Lips and fingers taste bitterm
Put your mouth where it's hot and oozing.
2015.04.09 09:23 Put your mouth where it's hot and oozing.
Show us your gaping cheese slits.
2022.01.06 00:30 captainsquidsharkk KUWTKsnark
We are home to Kardashian Jenner Cynics, Kritics, Skeptics, Doubters, Lurkers, Hippo-Krisy's and even fans. We Gossip, Joke, Kritique, Scoop, Investigations, Memes, Opinions, and pictures of and for all things Kar-Jenner. Keep it fun, fairly civil, humorous, serious, controversial, friendly or whatever tickles you! "There’s a lot of baggage that comes with us, but it’s like Louis Vuitton baggage; you always want it.” We have No affiliation with the Kardashian/Jenner's or KUWTK
2014.06.11 13:49 _the_great_catsby Art Critiques
This is a place where artists can post their artwork to get honest, constructive feedback to help them improve!
2024.05.16 05:25 ResponsibilitySad331 A Victim of Online Fiction - Ch16: The call of the chicken
| A Victim of Online Fiction | The One Who Walks Alone | |
|---|---|---|
| Reads last 24 hours | 60,000 | 2100 |
| Reads all time | 1,500,000 | 156,000 |
I cut back my schedule to three chapters a week for A Victim of Online Fiction and two a week for The One Who Walks Alone.
Each morning I poured myself a cup of tea, swallowed a pill and hacked out three chapters before lunch, had a call with Alex, went for a quick run and picked up food from a cafe, then it was back home for revisions and occasionally some plotting.
By 5pm I’d be pooped mentally, but physically bursting at the seams. I’d pop another pill or two then saunter off to whatever party was happening that night before waking up in someone’s shrubbery at sunrise.
For a while writing and enjoying myself were all I craved. I was shitting out chapters faster than I’d ever done before, and building a backlog had taken a lot of pressure off the day to day writing.
And then one morning I woke up in a springy little olive tree to the sound of my good friend Manuel yelling at me. Manuel was really excited about something. He kept saying over and over ‘You’re done Eli! You’re done, dude. You really messed up – big time.’
I rubbed my eyes and pulled a couple of leaves from my ear, ‘Huh?’
Manuel grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the tree. He had a tablet in one hand and was laughing. He pushed the tablet into my face, ‘It’s LazyCultivator... the best writer in the entire damn world. She’s calling you out man.’
I pushed a pill between my lips and swallowed, slowly my vision started to clear. Beneath the latest chapter of the chicken story was a massive rant about my books.
‘Woah.’
‘Woah alright,’ Manuel bounced around me, ‘All that stuff you said about the chicken, how you wanted to take her on, she’s just shutting you down. This is going to kill your readership man!’
I frowned, ‘And why are you so happy about this? I thought you were like, in my corner...’
Manuel slapped me on the back, ‘Course I am man, course I am... but this is LazyCultivator we’re talking about... she’s a genius... Shakespeare reborn... the Wuxia Tolkein... the Virginia Woolfe of transcending tropes.’
‘Alright... whatever.’ I straightened my neck, there was this awful kink in it, ‘So yeah, she’s denouncing my work as a piece of shit, but so what? There’s a lot of times I think it's a piece of shit too.’
‘Ah... but you haven’t been read by 100 million people, have you?’
‘Guess not...’
‘She’s never done this to anyone before. Dude. Your career is over. Back to the dungeons you go.’
My stomach was cramping and all of Manuel’s shouting was starting to give me a headache, ‘You’re kind of being an asshole.’
He shrugged, snatched his tablet back, ‘LazyCultivator... how the hell man...’
I turned away from him and started stumbling back to my place. I could feel the pill bubbling as it mixed with the leftover alcohol in my stomach. I paused to throw up, wiped the froth from my lip then continued home. My throat was as dry as the Sahara but I ignored the ice-cold water in my fridge and powered on my computer and sat there for two hours reading the comments beneath LazyCultivator's new chapter.
HamishNO
This guy’s going to the grave.
Sammywakles
Taking on the chicken? Foolish young master. This shall be the death of him.
NOTyet
Review bomb him. We’re gonna take this guy down.
The final comment had 20,000 likes and when I clicked on my story I saw my precious five-star rating had dropped to just above zero. My throat was inflamed, but still, I read. People were trashing my novels. Review bombing them off the featured lists I’d slowly been climbing my way up.
Alex called, I ignored him. He called again. I hung up. He called a third time and I answered. Alex was wearing a suit and a professional black tie.
‘Not a good time to call Alex.’
Alex shook his head, ‘No. It's not. The CEO wants to see you.’
‘What?’
‘Richard Balls, the man who founded this company, the guy who can have your stories deleted like this,’ he snapped his fingers, ‘The guy who can fire me like this,’ he snapped his fingers again. There were tears in his eyes. ‘He wants to see you in half an hour.’
I couldn’t speak. My throat was all dried up.
‘Alex... I...’
He gave this pitiful whine, ‘Put on your most professional-looking clothes. Get in the car when it comes. There’s nothing I can do for you.’
The call ended and the silence struck me like a jumbo jet squashing a slug on the runway.
A glass of water hurt to swallow. The only decent looking shirt I had rasped my skin and a pair of black shoes made my feet heat up. I pushed my pill bottle into the pocket of a pair of black jeans then sat outside. I fidgeted, grazing my knuckles against the concrete of the stairs. The pain tasted good. Like ice.
‘Astra,’ I whispered to myself, imagining her face, ‘Astra.’
I thought about all the weeks that had passed. How good the freedom had felt. How empty it felt now. I knew I needed a friend. I knew I had none. Not here anyway.
A neighbour walked past. His name was Min. He wrote sci-fi, I’d carried him up his steps the Thursday before, he wanted to get married to a girl that wrote horror.
‘Hey Min!’
Min turned to me but his feet didn’t stop. He took one look, his eyes glazed over and he walked on. It was a hot day. Maybe he was thirsty or something.
The limousine they sent for me was black, with a fin-like antenna on top and it cruised the streets like a shark looking for prey.
It came to a stop in front of my house. The back door swung open to reveal a pure black void. I wobbled to my feet then climbed in. I couldn’t see a thing outside as we swung around and around. The only things that differentiated it from my first cell were the plush leather seats. Even so, my breath was rushing in and out faster than I liked.
‘Astra.’ I said to myself, I wondered why I hadn’t bothered trying to contact her, I hadn’t even left a comment on her story. I’d seen hundreds of her comments on mine.
The limo jerked to a stop. The door flew open.
It was like I’d been transported to another planet. The quiet, quaint Village had been replaced by a steel and glass plated monstrosity. People in suits flowed in and out of the front door like blood through arteries – or maybe parasites through a host.
I edged myself out of the limo. The door slammed behind me, and the shark-vehicle sped off. Hands closed around both my arms.
‘Good to see you Mr Hill,’ A security guard on my right said.
‘Mr Balls is waiting for you,’ said the guard on my left. Their grip was casual but firm as we walked towards the doorway.
The elevator in that building was bigger than our entire four-dorm. The bathroom was ten times the size of my cottage, and there were slides, pool tables, domes to sleep in. I wasn’t sure whether the topia I’d wandered into was a utopia or a dystopia.
Finally, we reached Richard Balls office – technically it took up the entire top floor, but most of that was taken up by an indoor golf course, spa, and a floor of secretaries, lawyers and accountants.
The guards made me stand outside for ten minutes while they waited for a signal from Balls. When it finally came they pushed me towards the double doors.
2024.05.16 05:23 doggirlcatgirl So… Laser fucking hurts? 😭
I got my first laser session today. I have light skin and very dark coarse hair. Every video I watched described it as a hot rubber band snap, and I have tons of tattoos including hands and fingers.
I thought surely it won’t be that bad.
No. It’s the fucking worst. Holy fucking fuck FUCK. My whole body jolted the first shock, and then the next, and the next, and you can see each flash of light even with double eye protection. It’s like lightning on the inside of your eyelids. And the fucking smell of burning hair, too. There was a burst of air after each zap, which made it even more overwhelming.
It’s so much worse than any tattoo I’ve gotten. Especially the jaw line and under the jaw, and the fucking upper lip. I fucking hate it. As soon as the (tech? idk what to call them tbh) left the room I started crying. If my wife wasn’t with me I wouldn’t be able to do it I would have had to stop. Maybe I’m just a huge fucking pussy. 😭😭😭
The only bright side is the pain only lasted like 10 minutes after. God damnit I have 5 more sessions in this bundle 😭
submitted by doggirlcatgirl to trans [link] [comments]
I thought surely it won’t be that bad.
No. It’s the fucking worst. Holy fucking fuck FUCK. My whole body jolted the first shock, and then the next, and the next, and you can see each flash of light even with double eye protection. It’s like lightning on the inside of your eyelids. And the fucking smell of burning hair, too. There was a burst of air after each zap, which made it even more overwhelming.
It’s so much worse than any tattoo I’ve gotten. Especially the jaw line and under the jaw, and the fucking upper lip. I fucking hate it. As soon as the (tech? idk what to call them tbh) left the room I started crying. If my wife wasn’t with me I wouldn’t be able to do it I would have had to stop. Maybe I’m just a huge fucking pussy. 😭😭😭
The only bright side is the pain only lasted like 10 minutes after. God damnit I have 5 more sessions in this bundle 😭
2024.05.16 05:04 glossedlip G Suit
Glossier really missed the mark with G Suit. And I'm not even talking about how it didn't really make sense to release a lip cream in a time where lip creams aren't super popular.
I have two G Suit shades, Lane from a free gift and Cranberry from the Cranberry trio. And I actually really like them.
I feel like Glossier didn't advertise G Suit well enough. In fact, if you look at the pictures of the models wearing G Suit on the store page, a lot of the model's lips look incredibly dry. It looks SO BAD. Like crappy dry crumbly liquid lipstick, and that is NOT my experience with it at all. It's actually super soft and blurs my lip lines and doesn't look crusty at all. I also think it looks a million times better when you gently blend it with your finger to soften and blur it.
Sadly I don't think anybody, including myself, is willing to pay $24 for it though. It's definitely one of Glossier's least selling products and based on its appearances in TJ Maxx and Marshalls, It's only a matter of time before Glossier discontinues it.
submitted by glossedlip to glossier [link] [comments]
I have two G Suit shades, Lane from a free gift and Cranberry from the Cranberry trio. And I actually really like them.
I feel like Glossier didn't advertise G Suit well enough. In fact, if you look at the pictures of the models wearing G Suit on the store page, a lot of the model's lips look incredibly dry. It looks SO BAD. Like crappy dry crumbly liquid lipstick, and that is NOT my experience with it at all. It's actually super soft and blurs my lip lines and doesn't look crusty at all. I also think it looks a million times better when you gently blend it with your finger to soften and blur it.
Sadly I don't think anybody, including myself, is willing to pay $24 for it though. It's definitely one of Glossier's least selling products and based on its appearances in TJ Maxx and Marshalls, It's only a matter of time before Glossier discontinues it.
2024.05.16 04:57 its_whirlpool4 Events for Fri 5/17 - Sun 5/19
** BOTH FRI 5/17 AND SAT 5/18 *\*
Motorcycle Safety Foundation Ride Day New Mexico Motorcycle Safety Program, 3401 Pan American Fwy Take Your First Ride: Ride a motorcycle in 30 min or less for free. MOTO Intro provides the motorcycle, helmet, gloves, and coaching. Free Riding Skills Test: Take the challenge of an advanced MSF course! SKILL Check participants, bring your motorcycle and gear! Please wear over-the-ankle footwear, long pants and long sleeves
Fri 4:30 PM Bike to Wherever Day Canteen Brewhouse, 2381 Aztec Rd. NE Learn about exciting bike routes in Albuquerque and grab some cool giveaways to kickstart your cycling adventures. Whether you’re a seasoned cyclist or just starting out, there’s something for EVERYONE at our pop-up table! We'll have Canteen will be volunteering at a table from 6:30-9am and then again at 4:30-6:30am. Receive $1 off your beer if you arrive on your bike
Fri 5 PM Pistachio Cream Ale Release Tractor Brewing, ALL locations We're bringing back this seasonal favorite for American Craft Beer Week! Inspired by pistachios produced right here in New Mexico this brew is as smooth as silk and as tasty and a fresh roasted pistachio. This is a very limited one off for us, so come and get you a pint or growler while supplies last
Fri 5 – 7 PM May Babies Birthday Celebration Rio Bravo Brewing, 1912 2nd St. NW Starting at 5pm, the first 25 people with May birthdays to show Ryan proof of their birthday month will score a $5 Rio Bravo Brewing Gift Card...oh, and Beers are on special for birthday kids for just $5! But you spend your gift card however you want! Thanks to Cake Fetish...we'll have cupcakes for the May Birthday Kids (while supplies last) We'll have prizes JUST for the May Babies! We'll also have drawings for all you non-birthday folks too If you want to get their before us...All drinks are $1 Off for May Birthdays the whole day!
Fri 5:45 – 7:15 PM 22 Veterans Suicide Awareness WOD BFit505, 11500 Menaul Blvd. NE Each month, Team Bravo & Bfit505 team up to bring awareness to veteran suicide. Before our events, we will take a moment and talk about the issue. Then we will begin with our 22 reps WOD followed by a 2.2 mile ruck/walk/run. Afterwards, we will be going out to eat for social time with friends and family. This event is for all levels
Fri 6 PM Sandia Social - May Hangout Dawn Patrol Coffee Shop, 3619 Copper Ave NE We will be hanging out around the patio and inside starting at 6pm! Bring your friends and come hang out!
Fri 6 PM Pink Therapy, A Latin Dance Fundraiser for Breast Cancer Sobremesa, 3421 Coors Blvd. NW On The One and Pachanga Productions' "Salsa Therapy" night has made its mark in the Latin Dance community, now we are using the symbolism of "Therapy" under "Pink Therapy" but this time it is to fundraise in partnership with the Pink Warrior House Foundation in order to provide outreach and increase resources for those warriors battling against breast cancer. On The One and Pachanga productions will be involved in community outreach and utilizing our resources to help those in need. Cover charge is a SUGGESTED $20 donation (ALL PROCEEDS GO TO Pink Warrior House Foundation). Cocktail hour from 6-7 PM (purchases go to PWH on selected drinks). Dance lesson from 7-8 PM. Open dance floor 8-12 AM. Be aware of Media/News coverage. We need everyone's assistance with this, PLEASE SHARE FAR AND WIDE, those warriors battling breast cancer need our help. Let's do our part. We are asking for the entire Latin dance community to come out and support. This will be one of many fundraisers that we do for organizations like PWH. Lets use our dance skills to help those in need!
Fri 6 – 8 PM May Flowers Stampin' Bingo (in person) Hip Stitch, 2320 Wisconsin St. NE Cost is $35 for 6 rounds of bingo, prizes, and make n' takes! Message for more info or to register
Fri 6 – 8:30 PM Los Domingueros Live El Vado, 2500 Central Ave SW Prepare for an unforgettable fusion of Latin dance beats and rock energy as Friday Night Live at El Vado proudly presents New Mexico's premier menudo-based band, Los Domingueros! Few bands can match the infectious joy and vibrant rhythms that they bring to the stage. A multi-talented group of musicians, they take listeners on a musical journey like no other. From the pulsating rhythms of salsa, bachata, and cumbia to the high-energy vibes of ska and reggae, sprinkled with a dash of punk and thrash, their eclectic repertoire promises an exhilarating experience for all. As always, treat your taste buds to a delightful selection of culinary delights from our diverse food pods. From savory stir-fries to tantalizing Latin flavors and heavenly desserts, there's something to satisfy every craving. And don't overlook the opportunity to quench your thirst with a crisp craft beer from Ponderosa Brewing Company, conveniently available at the El Vado Tap Room
Fri 6 – 10 PM Fork Cancer Gala FUSION ABQ, 700-708 1st St. NW The American Cancer Society is hosting Albuquerque's second #ForkCancerAbq fundraising event. VIP 6pm - 7pm. Gala 7pm - 10pm. Dress Code: Gala Attire. #ForkCancerNM is a foodie's dream, with local restaurants and bars bringing out their best to truly showcase the Taste of Albuquerque while raising money for the American Cancer Society's life-saving mission in New Mexico supporting Access to Care like patient transportation, patient lodging and 24/7 support. Along with life saving research and grants. With great opportunities to raise money, we will also have live entertainment! (tickets)
Fri 6:30 – 10 PM Community Movie Night South Valley Multipurpose Center, 2008 Larrazolo Rd. SW Feature of the night: In The Heights. Bring your dinner, blankets and chairs. Please no glass containers
Fri 7 PM Movie In The Park ABQ Food Park, 6901-B San Antonio Dr. NE ABQ Food Park is bringing back Movies In The Park, starting off the summer with a screening of The Sandlot. Arrive early to get your face painted by Local Locas Facepainting before settling in with your blankets, chairs, and appetite for a delightful evening at the park with loved ones. Indulge in delicious fare from our food trucks while enjoying this timeless film under the stars. Please do not bring outside food as we have a variety of food options at the park. Please support our local food vendors. Entry is free! Reserve your tickets
Fri 7 – 10 PM Emerald Ball Holiday Dance Studio, 5200 Eubank Blvd. NE, Ste D Celebrate the enchanting month of May by donning your finest emerald attire. Bring in the vibrant spring season by joining us in elegant semi-formal wear of rich verdant colors and dance the night away! A Foxtrot lesson will begin the evening at 7pm followed by open dancing. Call 505-508-4020 for more information. $30 non-members
Fri 8 PM – 2 AM Sucia EDC Gogo Takeover Sidewinders Bar and Grill, 4200 Central Ave SE Sucia Productions is bringing the Electric Sky to Sidewinders! No need to have EDC FOMO because Papa Sucia is ready to bring the party to you! Come join your Sucia Family for a Night of PLUR! Featuring the Sucia Gogos on multiple boxes and individual dances available in the Cabaret Room! Hosted by Papa Sucia and Sucia Gogo Madam Sativa Rico-Stratton. DJ Unzipped will be bringing the you the best EDM set for you to dance the night away!
Fri 9 PM – 1:30 AM Callaita Fridays Salt Yard West, 3700 Ellison Rd. NW DJ Soiree will be spinning under the stars in the Salt Yard, promising a night of electrifying Latin music. This 21+ event guarantees an atmosphere where you can fully embrace the rhythm without inhibition. Whether you're a die-hard fan of Reggaeton or simply seeking a night of unparalleled fun, "Callaita Fridays" is the place to be
Fri 10:30 PM – 12:15 AM FACELESS AFTER DARK - new meta horror starring Jenna Kanell of "Terrifier"! The Guild Cinema, 3405 Central Ave NE All Seats $8. Check out the trailer. Dir. Raymond Wood - 2023 - 82m. Following her breakout success as the star of a killer clown horror flick, Bowie (Jenna Kanell, TERRIFIER) now finds herself struggling to capitalize on its success. But when she is suddenly held hostage by an unhinged fan posing as that same killer clown, horror becomes her reality as she fights to survive the night and escape before he completes his sinister plan to recreate the film's fatal plot (tickets)
** Sat 5/18 *\*
Sat 8 – 10 AM Planting Corn Seeds Lynn Garden, 176 Manierre Rd., Corrales We will be planting corn seeds; a new crop for Seed2Need this year!
Sat 8 – 10 AM Run for Mercy 5K Sagebrush Community Church, 6440 Coors Blvd. NW Join our team to run with us to support Mercy Multiplied, which exists to provide opportunities for all to experience God's unconditional love, forgiveness, and life-transforming power. Mercy offers free-of-charge Residential and Outpatient Counseling Programs, as well as Outreach Services that include workshops and trainings, our Keys to Freedom discipleship study, and Keys to Freedom Retreat (register)
Sat 8 AM – 12 PM Downtown Growers' Market Robinson Park, 810 Copper Ave NW Every Saturday from 8 am - NOON! This vibrant community event connects local farmers, growers, artisans, wellness makers, and hot food vendors with the local community from mid-April to early-November. Bring friends / family or come solo to enjoy fresh food made on sight, a variety of seasonal produce, unique arts and crafts, live music, and special programming all in the heart of downtown
Sat 8 AM – 2 PM Rio Rancho's Biggest Yard Sale Cabezon Park and Community Center, 2307 Cabezon Blvd. SE, Rio Rancho FREE Admission! Clean out your garage, spare bedroom, attic and shed. Come join us to sell all of those items that were collecting dust, find a treasure that you didn’t know you needed, and enjoy a day in the park! Vendor space $35 for a 15’ x 15’ space (Tables and chairs are not provided) Must register online, NO Drop-Ins Accepted. Please call the Cabezon Community Center at 505-892-4499 for more info
Sat 9 AM Send Haley to Spain Sand Volleyball Tournament Charlie’s Sandbox, 4335 Paseo del Norte NE All proceeds go to Haley and her trip to Spain in July! $20/per player. All Skill levels! Prizes for 1st & 2nd place. 4-6 players Coed with 1 female on team. Check in @ 8:30am. More info: Jillian (505) 322-7228, Haley (505) 331-4788, Charlie (505) 239-2461
Sat 9 AM Invisible Heroes Run Believers Center of Albuquerque, 320 Waterfall Dr. SE Join Runfit and the American Society of Radiologic Technologists for the inaugural Invisible Heroes 5K Run/Walk. It is a community event being held to recognize the vital role that medical imaging professionals and radiation therapists play on the health care team and to introduce the public to these vital health care professionals. You are invited to run and walk to celebrate the important work done by invisible heroes. At packet pick-up, you will have an opportunity to tour the ASRT Museum and Archives. Age group, overall, and team awards, including a great t-shirt and finisher medals for all participants (register)
Sat 9 AM - 4 PM 16th Annual CTC Vintage Tractor & Car Show Corrales Recreation Center, 500 Jones Rd., Corrales Join us for a fun day in the Corrales Park. There will be music, food, hot rods, tractor, stationary engines and more. Proceeds Raised will benefit Corrales 4H and Historical Society. Free admission. $10 for show participants
Sat 10 AM – 12 PM Foraging for Fun(ds) Los Poblanos Open Space, 1800 Tierra Viva Pl. NW Join Rev. Ryan Tate on a foraging excursion! Rev. Tate, of the African American spiritual tradition and an IPL board member, wants to bring their loving knowledge of NM edibles and herbs to you. Discover the food right under your nose and how easy it is to enjoy! We’ll meet to explore and harvest native and edible plants. Enter the Open Space area from west bound Montano Boulevard. After foraging, we’ll gather to taste our harvest and other locally sourced treats. Sign up today to participate - space is limited. This is a fundraiser for our work for climate justice: Please give generously (Suggested minimum donation $10)
Sat 10 AM – 3 PM Homebrewer's Happy Hour Southwest Grape & Grain, 3401 Candelaria Blvd. NE Homebrewer's Happy Hour is the perfect chance for all homebrewers, wine makers, distillers, or anyone interested in learning, to connect with others, share a drink, and learn about a new subject each month! $1 off beers from 10am to 3pm. Presentation on monthly subject at 1pm with open forum to discuss after. Food truck on site for lunch! May 18th - Barley
Sat 10:30 – 11:30 AM Animal Tales with the ABQ BioPark Ernie Pyle Library, 900 Girard Blvd. SE Dive into the captivating world of animals with "Animal Tales" presented by the ABQ BioPark! Join us for a delightful reading session featuring an animal-themed book. Experience the magic as the BioPark brings along real animals and biofacts that connect to the story, giving kids an exciting opportunity to meet these creatures up close! Don't miss this engaging and educational adventure for young animal enthusiasts!
Sat 10:30 AM – 12:30 PM FolkMADS Third Saturday Family Dance Albuquerque Square Dance Center, 4915 Hawkins St. NE Dancing, song, and live music for kids of all ages. No experience needed to have fun! Children must be accompanied by an adult. Children dance free, Adults $10
Sat 11 AM – 1 PM Annual Summer Kick-Off Event! Matheson Park Elementary, 10809 Lexington Ave NE Join us as we kick off the summer with fun, a food truck, face painting, dunk tank, and more! Bring your family and your pets for a Blessing of the Pets. There is no cost to attend and all are welcome!
Sat 11 AM – 3 PM Wine + Art Afternoons Gruet Winery, 8400 Pan American East Fwy NE Prism Arts presents a new public art and social series with a special one-day multi-artist event. Join us inside the Gruet Winery with a selection of fine art, prints, paintings, jewelry, and ceramics from local artists Vanessa Alvarado, Eric Romero, Margarita Paz-Pedro, & Aaron Richardson. Enjoy unique art, amazing fine, food, and a social environment with the artists and the public. *All art purchases receive a complimentary bottle of Gruet Wine*
Sat 11 AM – 3 PM Bernalillo Family Fun Festival! Calvary Church, 4001 Osuna Rd. NE Get connected to community and enjoy a Fun Family Day!
Sat 11:30 AM – 4 PM Imaginary Friends Fest Flix Brewhouse, 3200 La Orilla Rd. NW Let your imagination run wild! Join us in the lobby to celebrate the opening of IF! Enjoy photo ops, freebies, an in-theater giveaway, and activities for the whole family. All ages are welcome!
Sat 12 PM BBQ n' Crawl Supper Rock Park, 598 Monte Alto Pl. NE Mini Crawlers 505 and Duke City RC are throwing a BBQ and crawl sesh! All rigs welcome! Please mark going if you are, so we can get enough food!
Sat 12 PM May Brew Tour - Farewell Tour Rio Bravo Brewing, 1912 2nd St. NW This is the last NM Brew Ha-Ha Beer tour for the season. The 24-25 season will start in June 2025 so stay tuned for the season lineup release. Rio Bravo Brewing, Ponderosa Brewing, Bow & Arrow Brewing, Juno Brewery. At Rio Bravo, a DD will be selected, then we’ll head to the other breweries in the order listed. T-shirts, if ordered will be delivered. For safety, a breathalyzer is available, a DD will be established and a liability waiver will be signed by all participants. Safety is of utmost importance. We want everyone to enjoy their tour and arrive home safely
Sat 12 PM Drag Bingo & Brunch! All Ages Welcome! Sidewinders Bar and Grill, 4200 Central Ave SE Join us for a Drag Queen Bingo and Brunch benefitting The Albuquerque Roadrunner Tournament 2024 (coming up in September). Hosted by Priscilla Bouvier. Doors 12pm. Show 1pm. Bingo, Prizes, Giveaways, Raffles, Cocktails, Mocktails and Fun!
Sat 12 PM Empire's 9th Anniversary - FREE PLAY ALL DAY Empire Board Game Library, 3503 Central Ave NE It's Empire's 9th Anniversary celebration and you're invited! We've been here 9 years and it's all thanks to the support we get from you, so to show our appreciation, this Saturday's celebration is our gift to you: Come in and play for free all day! Every game is on sale all weekend! We're holding raffles over the course of the day to give away some great games! So come on down and let us thank you!
Sat 12 – 3 PM STOODIS!: An AIDS/LifeCycle Fundraising Event Soo Bak Seoul Bowl, 111 Hermosa Dr. SE Help Vanessa Bowen cross the finish line – the fundraising finish line, that is! Vanessa is on a mission to raise $3,500 to participate in the 2024 AIDS/LifeCycle, a 545-mile charity bike ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles from June 2nd to 8th, 2024. Join this special fundraising event and send-off party for an afternoon of entertainment, vendors, bike tune-ups, raffle, and food and drink specials. Come prepared to support our local vendors and find out how you can win our selected giveaways. AIDS/LifeCycle benefits, and is jointly produced by, San Francisco AIDS Foundation (Tax ID # 94-2927405) and Los Angeles LGBT Center (Tax ID # 95-3567895), each of which is a nonprofit, public benefit corporation recognized as tax exempt under IRS Code Section 501(c)(3). Donations to AIDS/LifeCycle are deductible for income tax purposes, to the extent permitted by law. Vanessa Bowen (They/Them) is a Diné (Navajo) product designer and cyclist. Their work gravitates toward the intersection of design and social equity. Bowen is a former Outride Ambassador, current Chamois Butt’r and Kuat Racks Ambassador, founder of Get Native Kids on Bikes, and a supporter of AIDS/LifeCycle. If not creating in their studio in Albuquerque, they are training for a cycling event or community building for a just, equitable future (more info)
Sat 12 – 5 PM Day Camp - A Festival for Families Tin Can Alley, 6013 Signal Ave NE Day Camp is where adventure meets education, creativity, and community in a fair-like environment where a variety of youth development organizations are excited to share their programs. In partnership with Warehouse 505, and featuring organizations such as Explora, there will be workshops ands expos for kids to discover new passions across music, art, science, and more. Supporting Youth Security & Education, all dedicated funds raised will be going to New Mexico non-profit organizations
Sat 12 – 5 PM Monthly Pinball Tournament Sister, 407 Central Ave NW All skill levels and players welcome! 21+ Sign up starts at 12 pm; tournament play starts at 1 p.m. Entry fee is $5 + coin drop
Sat 1 – 5 PM United in Beer Collaboration Festival Ex Novo Brewing, 4895 Corrales Rd., Corrales United in Beer is a New Mexico statewide collaborative beer festival that benefits the Somos Unidos Foundation with 26 participating breweries, which were randomly partnered through a live draft and then together selected the beer style they would collaborate on. All beers will be showcased at the festival. Tickets are limited. Portions of ticket sales will donated to Somos Unidos Foundation, a 501(c)(3) dedicated to creating positive outcomes for New Mexicans through art, sport, community, and unity. This will be a 21+ Event. Food trucks will be on site. Included with ticket purchase is: Festival access, 8 drink tokens, and a United In Beer glass! We recommend bringing: Sunscreen, your friends, and good vibes
Sat 1 – 10 PM Boots In The Park Presents Thomas Rhett, Chris Young & Friends! Balloon Fiesta Park, 5000 Balloon Fiesta Pkwy Dust off your boots and get ready to holler, because Boots In The Park is making it's way to Albuquerque, y'all! Join us for a rootin', tootin', two-steppin' good time with none other than Thomas Rhett, Chris Young, Chris Janson, Kameron Marlowe, Dylan Schneider, Leaving Austin and beats by Luwiss Lux. We're talking about an evening filled to the brim with live tunes, finger-lickin' craft food, and the smoothest cocktails. We'll be kicking up dust with some good ol' line dancing and a whole heap more, as Balloon Fiesta Park is transformed into Albuquerque's best country music party! Past folks to grace the Boots In The Park stage are Carrie Underwood, Blake Shelton, Tim McGraw, Cody Johnson, Jon Pardi and a bunch of other country legends. But this day is gonna be one for the record books, a show that will leave y'all talking for years to come (tickets)
Sat 2 PM Annual Castro Concerto Competition Albuquerque Youth Symphony, 4407 Menaul Blvd. NE Join us to hear talented high school juniors compete for the privilege of performing with the Youth Symphony during the Albuquerque Youth Symphony Program's 2024-2025 concert season! This event is free and open to the public. We also plan to stream this event live on Facebook for anyone not able to attend in person
Sat 2 PM "Greatest Moments" - a fundraising concert for Opera On Tap New Mexico Central United Methodist Church, 201 University Blvd. NE Join us for an afternoon of music to help raise money for Opera on Tap - New Mexico! Featuring some faculty and students of University of New Mexico, along with other local professionals, we have put a program together highlighting some of the show-stopping, beautiful moments of opera and musical theater! Suggested donation $10
Sat 2 – 7 PM Rawking: An Afternoon Metal + Art + Comedy Extravaganza Juno, 1501 1st St. NW Featured performers include Light Thief, Destroy to Recreate, Guvtika, Abandoned Saviors. outdoors on the patio with Four Bands, Comedians, Artists, Vendors. Produced by Metal World Radio. 21+. $10 at the door or presales online
Sat 3 – 8 PM Albuquerque Roller Derby presents: Sandia Slammers vs. Bosque Bruisers! Expo New Mexico - Manuel Lujan Jr Exhibit Complex, 300 San Pedro Dr. NE Albuquerque Roller Derby has gotten SO big we’ve split into two teams! Sandia Slammers & Bosque Bruisers! Get your tickets for our first Home Game of the 2024 season
Sat 3:45 – 5:45 PM AND 7 - 9 PM The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 Flix Brewhouse, 3236 La Orilla Rd. NW Experience the Twilight saga's epic romance and thrilling fantasy BREAKING DAWN - PART 1 on the big screen! Bella and Edward, plus those they love, must deal with the chain of consequences brought on by a marriage, honeymoon, and the tumultuous birth of a child, which brings about unforeseen and shocking developments for Jacob Black (tickets)
Sat 4 – 8 PM Drink Local Downtown ABQ - May Step into the heart of Albuquerque with our thrilling, free monthly bar crawl event! Immerse yourself in the local charm as we celebrate community, culture, and creativity right in the heart of ABQ. In partnership with ABQCore Neighborhood Association, a locally organized and hosted event, we're bringing you a bar crawl experience like no other. This isn't just a crawl; it's a vibrant celebration of local businesses, a showcase of community talent, and a monthly escape into the unique flavors that make ABQ special
Sat 4 – 9 PM Summer Market ABQ Food Park, 6951 San Antonio Dr. NE Dive into the magic of summer evenings at ABQ Food Park with our captivating Summer Market! Join us for a delightful evening, where you can browse an enchanting array of offerings from local artisans and support our vibrant community businesses. Discover unique treasures crafted with love and passion by talented artisans, from handcrafted jewelry to exquisite home decor. Every purchase you make supports local creators and contributes to the thriving arts scene in our city
Sat 5 – 8 PM National Astronomy Day! Rainbow Park Observatory, 301 Southern Blvd SE, Rio Rancho The Rio Rancho Astronomical Society will host National Astronomy Day at Rainbow Park Observatory. There will be food for a donation, family activities and safe solar viewing. Dr. Tony Hull will appeal at 7 pm about his work on the James Webb Space Telescope. He will also have some info on light pollution
Sat 5 – 11 PM Beer & Jazz on the Hill Tractor Brewing, 122 Tulane Dr. SE We're bringing you a full night of brews and Jazz with the very talented Rona & Meli opening things up at 5pm and our house Jazz band Basilaris Trio closing things down at 8!
Sat 6 PM Bear Affair 4: Spanish Tapas Beer Pairing Dinner Boxing Bear Brewing, 8420 Firestone Ln. NE Join us on our patio for an ALMOST summer night paired with a variety of our seasonal beers, chef-crafted Spanish tapas, and flamenco. Featuring chef Christopher Midyette And the artist dance group Spanish Broom. Tickets are $65 per person and include a welcome beer, three course tapas style meal with beer pairings and entertainment for the evening
Sat 6 PM One Year Anniversary Celebration Urbanmama505 Kombucha, 1014 Central Ave SW, Ste A Celebrating one year of love, abundance, and sharing wellness. Right after Open Mic 4-6pm, we will be graced with a jazz concert by Davis Nelson-Hooker, an amazing local musician. Elixirs and small plates for purchase
Sat 6 – 9 PM Gone Country Saturdays with DJ Soiree Ponderosa Brewing, 1761 Bellamah Ave NW It's Gone Country Saturdays featuring the amazing DJ Soiree! Start your evening with free dance lessons at 5 pm, followed by family-friendly entertainment
Sat 7:30 – 9 PM Saturday Night Stand-Up Bosque Brewing Co - Nob Hill, 106 Girard Blvd. SE Live from ABQ, it’s… Saturday Night Stand-Up Hosted by Nax Davis! Every third Saturday of the month! Seating at 7:30 - Comedy at 8. Featured line-up of local comics includes: MEG FINN, BRYAN LAMBE, SARINA OCHOA, MARY BYRD, ROBERT EYSTER
Sat 8 PM – 1:15 AM Apparition Goth Night Historic El Rey Theater, 622 Central Ave SW A hauntingly dark, classic goth night featuring the Apparition team: DJ Ren, DJ Batboy, DJ Moonside. Doors at 8. $10 all night. 21+ Tickets at the door. Expect goth, darkwave, death rock, synthpop, dark post punk, ebm, dark dance, industrial, witch house, horror punk and more
Sat 8:30 PM – 1 AM SABOR Latin Night - SATURDAYS Bama's 1865, 6007 Osuna Rd. NE May 11th - SPECIAL GUEST DJ ITALIA! DJ Gabriel Goza & DJ Pedro will be serving you the saucy Salsa, Bachata, Cumbia, Merengue y Mas! Ample Parking, Safe Environment, Beautiful Venue, Good Food, Good Music, Good Vibes. 21+ / $10 cover
Sat 9 PM – 1 AM Cumbia + Rock en Espanol Juno, 1501 1st St. NW Grupo Super Verza with Ave. 69 and Lot Beat and DJ Tony. Baila! 21+, $15 at the door or online
** Sun 5/19 *\*
Sun 9 – 11 AM Elevated Roller Derby May Training Scrimmage Heights Community Center, 823 Buena Vista Dr. SE Officials' huddle 9:00AM. Captains' meeting at 9:20AM. First whistle 9:30AM. This is simply a black/white scrimmage. It will be used as an educational opportunity. NSO paperwork will be used as appropriate. You are encouraged to stretch your skills. Hospitality: This is a low/no production scrimmage, bring beverages and snacks for your own use. Bathrooms: The community center may not be open during the scrimmage. (That's the trade-off for a free space). You can stop at the nearby Starbucks before the event. Expectations: Skaters and Skating and Non-skating Officials are expected to follow all WFTDA Risk Management Guidelines. The venue is a designated alcohol, drug, and smoke-free space by the city of Albuquerque (sign up)
Sun 10 AM – 2 PM The Great Burque Bake On Rail Yards Market, 777 1st St. SW Get ready to whisk it all at the "Great Burque Bake-on," a special fundraiser for the non-profit Rail Yards Market: One dozen of Albuquerque's most talented bakers will dough head-to-head in a crusty competition for the ultimate bakery glory! Bakers brawl... You vote for the winners! This sugar-dusted showdown promises a blend of flour-fueled drama and buttery bravado, making it the yeast you can do to support your local confectionery champions. As these culinary wizards knead their way to the top, we guarantee you'll find their efforts both batter and sweeter than anything you've tasted before. Join us for a day of laughter, pastry, and a chance to see who rises as the crème de la crème of Burque's baking scene! 1) ORDER > Claim your Bake-on Box & exclusive market swag by ordering online May 10-16th, 2024. 2) LEARN > Follow our social media to learn about each contestant & their offering. 3) PICKUP > Grab your box of baked goodies & swag at the info booth Sunday May 19th. 4) ENJOY > Eat all the delectable goodies, savor the flavor, and read about all the contestants 5) VOTE >> Submit your votes online to choose the winners! (tickets) The Farmers' Market event is going down simultaneously with 175+ local vendors to explore, and is still FREE to enter and welcome to all. This funky fundraiser is going down during the FREE Rail Yards Farmers' Market. So you can peruse 150+ small businesses and enjoy the historic architecture while you enjoy your Great Burque Bake-on Box of goodies! All proceeds will benefit the Rail Yards Market. The Rail Yards market of Albuquerque is a certified 501(c)3 non-profit focused on building a resilient, sustainable, local economy where the surrounding historic communities thrive, all can participate, and everyone is enriched and inspired. Through food, art, education, and music, we invite the community together in an inclusive and festive atmosphere
Sun 11:30 AM The Addams Family Historic Lobo Theater, 3013 Central Ave NE THE HISTORIC LOBO THEATER is excited to bring The Addams Family to the big screen! Showing Starts at 11:30 am Tickets are ONLY $10 for General Admission $25 Brunch and a Movie Ticket $21 Brunch Only ticket
Sun 12:30 PM Annual Spring Tea Asbury UMC, 10000 Candelaria Rd. NE All are welcome to attend our Annual Spring Tea! This year's theme is "The Tapestries of Our Lives." Life can be like a tapestry; our quilt, with events, feelings, accomplishments, and even disappointments "stitched" in. Join us, for tea, while Cindy Kurey, AQS-certified quilted textiles appraiser, shares how quilting and her faith have helped her navigate life. She will also show her collection of antique, vintage, and modern quilts! There is no cost to attend, though RSVPs are required. Please call the church office 505-299-0643 or message us on Facebook to RSVP
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Motorcycle Safety Foundation Ride Day New Mexico Motorcycle Safety Program, 3401 Pan American Fwy Take Your First Ride: Ride a motorcycle in 30 min or less for free. MOTO Intro provides the motorcycle, helmet, gloves, and coaching. Free Riding Skills Test: Take the challenge of an advanced MSF course! SKILL Check participants, bring your motorcycle and gear! Please wear over-the-ankle footwear, long pants and long sleeves
- Fri: 2 - 4 PM Skills Check, 4 - 6 PM Moto Intro
- Sat: 2 - 4:30 PM Moto Intro, 4:30 - 6:30 PM Skills Check
- Fri: 7 PM
- Sat: 4 PM
Fri 4:30 PM Bike to Wherever Day Canteen Brewhouse, 2381 Aztec Rd. NE Learn about exciting bike routes in Albuquerque and grab some cool giveaways to kickstart your cycling adventures. Whether you’re a seasoned cyclist or just starting out, there’s something for EVERYONE at our pop-up table! We'll have Canteen will be volunteering at a table from 6:30-9am and then again at 4:30-6:30am. Receive $1 off your beer if you arrive on your bike
Fri 5 PM Pistachio Cream Ale Release Tractor Brewing, ALL locations We're bringing back this seasonal favorite for American Craft Beer Week! Inspired by pistachios produced right here in New Mexico this brew is as smooth as silk and as tasty and a fresh roasted pistachio. This is a very limited one off for us, so come and get you a pint or growler while supplies last
Fri 5 – 7 PM May Babies Birthday Celebration Rio Bravo Brewing, 1912 2nd St. NW Starting at 5pm, the first 25 people with May birthdays to show Ryan proof of their birthday month will score a $5 Rio Bravo Brewing Gift Card...oh, and Beers are on special for birthday kids for just $5! But you spend your gift card however you want! Thanks to Cake Fetish...we'll have cupcakes for the May Birthday Kids (while supplies last) We'll have prizes JUST for the May Babies! We'll also have drawings for all you non-birthday folks too If you want to get their before us...All drinks are $1 Off for May Birthdays the whole day!
Fri 5:45 – 7:15 PM 22 Veterans Suicide Awareness WOD BFit505, 11500 Menaul Blvd. NE Each month, Team Bravo & Bfit505 team up to bring awareness to veteran suicide. Before our events, we will take a moment and talk about the issue. Then we will begin with our 22 reps WOD followed by a 2.2 mile ruck/walk/run. Afterwards, we will be going out to eat for social time with friends and family. This event is for all levels
Fri 6 PM Sandia Social - May Hangout Dawn Patrol Coffee Shop, 3619 Copper Ave NE We will be hanging out around the patio and inside starting at 6pm! Bring your friends and come hang out!
Fri 6 PM Pink Therapy, A Latin Dance Fundraiser for Breast Cancer Sobremesa, 3421 Coors Blvd. NW On The One and Pachanga Productions' "Salsa Therapy" night has made its mark in the Latin Dance community, now we are using the symbolism of "Therapy" under "Pink Therapy" but this time it is to fundraise in partnership with the Pink Warrior House Foundation in order to provide outreach and increase resources for those warriors battling against breast cancer. On The One and Pachanga productions will be involved in community outreach and utilizing our resources to help those in need. Cover charge is a SUGGESTED $20 donation (ALL PROCEEDS GO TO Pink Warrior House Foundation). Cocktail hour from 6-7 PM (purchases go to PWH on selected drinks). Dance lesson from 7-8 PM. Open dance floor 8-12 AM. Be aware of Media/News coverage. We need everyone's assistance with this, PLEASE SHARE FAR AND WIDE, those warriors battling breast cancer need our help. Let's do our part. We are asking for the entire Latin dance community to come out and support. This will be one of many fundraisers that we do for organizations like PWH. Lets use our dance skills to help those in need!
Fri 6 – 8 PM May Flowers Stampin' Bingo (in person) Hip Stitch, 2320 Wisconsin St. NE Cost is $35 for 6 rounds of bingo, prizes, and make n' takes! Message for more info or to register
Fri 6 – 8:30 PM Los Domingueros Live El Vado, 2500 Central Ave SW Prepare for an unforgettable fusion of Latin dance beats and rock energy as Friday Night Live at El Vado proudly presents New Mexico's premier menudo-based band, Los Domingueros! Few bands can match the infectious joy and vibrant rhythms that they bring to the stage. A multi-talented group of musicians, they take listeners on a musical journey like no other. From the pulsating rhythms of salsa, bachata, and cumbia to the high-energy vibes of ska and reggae, sprinkled with a dash of punk and thrash, their eclectic repertoire promises an exhilarating experience for all. As always, treat your taste buds to a delightful selection of culinary delights from our diverse food pods. From savory stir-fries to tantalizing Latin flavors and heavenly desserts, there's something to satisfy every craving. And don't overlook the opportunity to quench your thirst with a crisp craft beer from Ponderosa Brewing Company, conveniently available at the El Vado Tap Room
Fri 6 – 10 PM Fork Cancer Gala FUSION ABQ, 700-708 1st St. NW The American Cancer Society is hosting Albuquerque's second #ForkCancerAbq fundraising event. VIP 6pm - 7pm. Gala 7pm - 10pm. Dress Code: Gala Attire. #ForkCancerNM is a foodie's dream, with local restaurants and bars bringing out their best to truly showcase the Taste of Albuquerque while raising money for the American Cancer Society's life-saving mission in New Mexico supporting Access to Care like patient transportation, patient lodging and 24/7 support. Along with life saving research and grants. With great opportunities to raise money, we will also have live entertainment! (tickets)
Fri 6:30 – 10 PM Community Movie Night South Valley Multipurpose Center, 2008 Larrazolo Rd. SW Feature of the night: In The Heights. Bring your dinner, blankets and chairs. Please no glass containers
Fri 7 PM Movie In The Park ABQ Food Park, 6901-B San Antonio Dr. NE ABQ Food Park is bringing back Movies In The Park, starting off the summer with a screening of The Sandlot. Arrive early to get your face painted by Local Locas Facepainting before settling in with your blankets, chairs, and appetite for a delightful evening at the park with loved ones. Indulge in delicious fare from our food trucks while enjoying this timeless film under the stars. Please do not bring outside food as we have a variety of food options at the park. Please support our local food vendors. Entry is free! Reserve your tickets
Fri 7 – 10 PM Emerald Ball Holiday Dance Studio, 5200 Eubank Blvd. NE, Ste D Celebrate the enchanting month of May by donning your finest emerald attire. Bring in the vibrant spring season by joining us in elegant semi-formal wear of rich verdant colors and dance the night away! A Foxtrot lesson will begin the evening at 7pm followed by open dancing. Call 505-508-4020 for more information. $30 non-members
Fri 8 PM – 2 AM Sucia EDC Gogo Takeover Sidewinders Bar and Grill, 4200 Central Ave SE Sucia Productions is bringing the Electric Sky to Sidewinders! No need to have EDC FOMO because Papa Sucia is ready to bring the party to you! Come join your Sucia Family for a Night of PLUR! Featuring the Sucia Gogos on multiple boxes and individual dances available in the Cabaret Room! Hosted by Papa Sucia and Sucia Gogo Madam Sativa Rico-Stratton. DJ Unzipped will be bringing the you the best EDM set for you to dance the night away!
Fri 9 PM – 1:30 AM Callaita Fridays Salt Yard West, 3700 Ellison Rd. NW DJ Soiree will be spinning under the stars in the Salt Yard, promising a night of electrifying Latin music. This 21+ event guarantees an atmosphere where you can fully embrace the rhythm without inhibition. Whether you're a die-hard fan of Reggaeton or simply seeking a night of unparalleled fun, "Callaita Fridays" is the place to be
Fri 10:30 PM – 12:15 AM FACELESS AFTER DARK - new meta horror starring Jenna Kanell of "Terrifier"! The Guild Cinema, 3405 Central Ave NE All Seats $8. Check out the trailer. Dir. Raymond Wood - 2023 - 82m. Following her breakout success as the star of a killer clown horror flick, Bowie (Jenna Kanell, TERRIFIER) now finds herself struggling to capitalize on its success. But when she is suddenly held hostage by an unhinged fan posing as that same killer clown, horror becomes her reality as she fights to survive the night and escape before he completes his sinister plan to recreate the film's fatal plot (tickets)
** Sat 5/18 *\*
Sat 8 – 10 AM Planting Corn Seeds Lynn Garden, 176 Manierre Rd., Corrales We will be planting corn seeds; a new crop for Seed2Need this year!
Sat 8 – 10 AM Run for Mercy 5K Sagebrush Community Church, 6440 Coors Blvd. NW Join our team to run with us to support Mercy Multiplied, which exists to provide opportunities for all to experience God's unconditional love, forgiveness, and life-transforming power. Mercy offers free-of-charge Residential and Outpatient Counseling Programs, as well as Outreach Services that include workshops and trainings, our Keys to Freedom discipleship study, and Keys to Freedom Retreat (register)
Sat 8 AM – 12 PM Downtown Growers' Market Robinson Park, 810 Copper Ave NW Every Saturday from 8 am - NOON! This vibrant community event connects local farmers, growers, artisans, wellness makers, and hot food vendors with the local community from mid-April to early-November. Bring friends / family or come solo to enjoy fresh food made on sight, a variety of seasonal produce, unique arts and crafts, live music, and special programming all in the heart of downtown
Sat 8 AM – 2 PM Rio Rancho's Biggest Yard Sale Cabezon Park and Community Center, 2307 Cabezon Blvd. SE, Rio Rancho FREE Admission! Clean out your garage, spare bedroom, attic and shed. Come join us to sell all of those items that were collecting dust, find a treasure that you didn’t know you needed, and enjoy a day in the park! Vendor space $35 for a 15’ x 15’ space (Tables and chairs are not provided) Must register online, NO Drop-Ins Accepted. Please call the Cabezon Community Center at 505-892-4499 for more info
Sat 9 AM Send Haley to Spain Sand Volleyball Tournament Charlie’s Sandbox, 4335 Paseo del Norte NE All proceeds go to Haley and her trip to Spain in July! $20/per player. All Skill levels! Prizes for 1st & 2nd place. 4-6 players Coed with 1 female on team. Check in @ 8:30am. More info: Jillian (505) 322-7228, Haley (505) 331-4788, Charlie (505) 239-2461
Sat 9 AM Invisible Heroes Run Believers Center of Albuquerque, 320 Waterfall Dr. SE Join Runfit and the American Society of Radiologic Technologists for the inaugural Invisible Heroes 5K Run/Walk. It is a community event being held to recognize the vital role that medical imaging professionals and radiation therapists play on the health care team and to introduce the public to these vital health care professionals. You are invited to run and walk to celebrate the important work done by invisible heroes. At packet pick-up, you will have an opportunity to tour the ASRT Museum and Archives. Age group, overall, and team awards, including a great t-shirt and finisher medals for all participants (register)
Sat 9 AM - 4 PM 16th Annual CTC Vintage Tractor & Car Show Corrales Recreation Center, 500 Jones Rd., Corrales Join us for a fun day in the Corrales Park. There will be music, food, hot rods, tractor, stationary engines and more. Proceeds Raised will benefit Corrales 4H and Historical Society. Free admission. $10 for show participants
Sat 10 AM – 12 PM Foraging for Fun(ds) Los Poblanos Open Space, 1800 Tierra Viva Pl. NW Join Rev. Ryan Tate on a foraging excursion! Rev. Tate, of the African American spiritual tradition and an IPL board member, wants to bring their loving knowledge of NM edibles and herbs to you. Discover the food right under your nose and how easy it is to enjoy! We’ll meet to explore and harvest native and edible plants. Enter the Open Space area from west bound Montano Boulevard. After foraging, we’ll gather to taste our harvest and other locally sourced treats. Sign up today to participate - space is limited. This is a fundraiser for our work for climate justice: Please give generously (Suggested minimum donation $10)
Sat 10 AM – 3 PM Homebrewer's Happy Hour Southwest Grape & Grain, 3401 Candelaria Blvd. NE Homebrewer's Happy Hour is the perfect chance for all homebrewers, wine makers, distillers, or anyone interested in learning, to connect with others, share a drink, and learn about a new subject each month! $1 off beers from 10am to 3pm. Presentation on monthly subject at 1pm with open forum to discuss after. Food truck on site for lunch! May 18th - Barley
Sat 10:30 – 11:30 AM Animal Tales with the ABQ BioPark Ernie Pyle Library, 900 Girard Blvd. SE Dive into the captivating world of animals with "Animal Tales" presented by the ABQ BioPark! Join us for a delightful reading session featuring an animal-themed book. Experience the magic as the BioPark brings along real animals and biofacts that connect to the story, giving kids an exciting opportunity to meet these creatures up close! Don't miss this engaging and educational adventure for young animal enthusiasts!
Sat 10:30 AM – 12:30 PM FolkMADS Third Saturday Family Dance Albuquerque Square Dance Center, 4915 Hawkins St. NE Dancing, song, and live music for kids of all ages. No experience needed to have fun! Children must be accompanied by an adult. Children dance free, Adults $10
Sat 11 AM – 1 PM Annual Summer Kick-Off Event! Matheson Park Elementary, 10809 Lexington Ave NE Join us as we kick off the summer with fun, a food truck, face painting, dunk tank, and more! Bring your family and your pets for a Blessing of the Pets. There is no cost to attend and all are welcome!
Sat 11 AM – 3 PM Wine + Art Afternoons Gruet Winery, 8400 Pan American East Fwy NE Prism Arts presents a new public art and social series with a special one-day multi-artist event. Join us inside the Gruet Winery with a selection of fine art, prints, paintings, jewelry, and ceramics from local artists Vanessa Alvarado, Eric Romero, Margarita Paz-Pedro, & Aaron Richardson. Enjoy unique art, amazing fine, food, and a social environment with the artists and the public. *All art purchases receive a complimentary bottle of Gruet Wine*
Sat 11 AM – 3 PM Bernalillo Family Fun Festival! Calvary Church, 4001 Osuna Rd. NE Get connected to community and enjoy a Fun Family Day!
Sat 11:30 AM – 4 PM Imaginary Friends Fest Flix Brewhouse, 3200 La Orilla Rd. NW Let your imagination run wild! Join us in the lobby to celebrate the opening of IF! Enjoy photo ops, freebies, an in-theater giveaway, and activities for the whole family. All ages are welcome!
Sat 12 PM BBQ n' Crawl Supper Rock Park, 598 Monte Alto Pl. NE Mini Crawlers 505 and Duke City RC are throwing a BBQ and crawl sesh! All rigs welcome! Please mark going if you are, so we can get enough food!
Sat 12 PM May Brew Tour - Farewell Tour Rio Bravo Brewing, 1912 2nd St. NW This is the last NM Brew Ha-Ha Beer tour for the season. The 24-25 season will start in June 2025 so stay tuned for the season lineup release. Rio Bravo Brewing, Ponderosa Brewing, Bow & Arrow Brewing, Juno Brewery. At Rio Bravo, a DD will be selected, then we’ll head to the other breweries in the order listed. T-shirts, if ordered will be delivered. For safety, a breathalyzer is available, a DD will be established and a liability waiver will be signed by all participants. Safety is of utmost importance. We want everyone to enjoy their tour and arrive home safely
Sat 12 PM Drag Bingo & Brunch! All Ages Welcome! Sidewinders Bar and Grill, 4200 Central Ave SE Join us for a Drag Queen Bingo and Brunch benefitting The Albuquerque Roadrunner Tournament 2024 (coming up in September). Hosted by Priscilla Bouvier. Doors 12pm. Show 1pm. Bingo, Prizes, Giveaways, Raffles, Cocktails, Mocktails and Fun!
Sat 12 PM Empire's 9th Anniversary - FREE PLAY ALL DAY Empire Board Game Library, 3503 Central Ave NE It's Empire's 9th Anniversary celebration and you're invited! We've been here 9 years and it's all thanks to the support we get from you, so to show our appreciation, this Saturday's celebration is our gift to you: Come in and play for free all day! Every game is on sale all weekend! We're holding raffles over the course of the day to give away some great games! So come on down and let us thank you!
Sat 12 – 3 PM STOODIS!: An AIDS/LifeCycle Fundraising Event Soo Bak Seoul Bowl, 111 Hermosa Dr. SE Help Vanessa Bowen cross the finish line – the fundraising finish line, that is! Vanessa is on a mission to raise $3,500 to participate in the 2024 AIDS/LifeCycle, a 545-mile charity bike ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles from June 2nd to 8th, 2024. Join this special fundraising event and send-off party for an afternoon of entertainment, vendors, bike tune-ups, raffle, and food and drink specials. Come prepared to support our local vendors and find out how you can win our selected giveaways. AIDS/LifeCycle benefits, and is jointly produced by, San Francisco AIDS Foundation (Tax ID # 94-2927405) and Los Angeles LGBT Center (Tax ID # 95-3567895), each of which is a nonprofit, public benefit corporation recognized as tax exempt under IRS Code Section 501(c)(3). Donations to AIDS/LifeCycle are deductible for income tax purposes, to the extent permitted by law. Vanessa Bowen (They/Them) is a Diné (Navajo) product designer and cyclist. Their work gravitates toward the intersection of design and social equity. Bowen is a former Outride Ambassador, current Chamois Butt’r and Kuat Racks Ambassador, founder of Get Native Kids on Bikes, and a supporter of AIDS/LifeCycle. If not creating in their studio in Albuquerque, they are training for a cycling event or community building for a just, equitable future (more info)
Sat 12 – 5 PM Day Camp - A Festival for Families Tin Can Alley, 6013 Signal Ave NE Day Camp is where adventure meets education, creativity, and community in a fair-like environment where a variety of youth development organizations are excited to share their programs. In partnership with Warehouse 505, and featuring organizations such as Explora, there will be workshops ands expos for kids to discover new passions across music, art, science, and more. Supporting Youth Security & Education, all dedicated funds raised will be going to New Mexico non-profit organizations
Sat 12 – 5 PM Monthly Pinball Tournament Sister, 407 Central Ave NW All skill levels and players welcome! 21+ Sign up starts at 12 pm; tournament play starts at 1 p.m. Entry fee is $5 + coin drop
Sat 1 – 5 PM United in Beer Collaboration Festival Ex Novo Brewing, 4895 Corrales Rd., Corrales United in Beer is a New Mexico statewide collaborative beer festival that benefits the Somos Unidos Foundation with 26 participating breweries, which were randomly partnered through a live draft and then together selected the beer style they would collaborate on. All beers will be showcased at the festival. Tickets are limited. Portions of ticket sales will donated to Somos Unidos Foundation, a 501(c)(3) dedicated to creating positive outcomes for New Mexicans through art, sport, community, and unity. This will be a 21+ Event. Food trucks will be on site. Included with ticket purchase is: Festival access, 8 drink tokens, and a United In Beer glass! We recommend bringing: Sunscreen, your friends, and good vibes
Sat 1 – 10 PM Boots In The Park Presents Thomas Rhett, Chris Young & Friends! Balloon Fiesta Park, 5000 Balloon Fiesta Pkwy Dust off your boots and get ready to holler, because Boots In The Park is making it's way to Albuquerque, y'all! Join us for a rootin', tootin', two-steppin' good time with none other than Thomas Rhett, Chris Young, Chris Janson, Kameron Marlowe, Dylan Schneider, Leaving Austin and beats by Luwiss Lux. We're talking about an evening filled to the brim with live tunes, finger-lickin' craft food, and the smoothest cocktails. We'll be kicking up dust with some good ol' line dancing and a whole heap more, as Balloon Fiesta Park is transformed into Albuquerque's best country music party! Past folks to grace the Boots In The Park stage are Carrie Underwood, Blake Shelton, Tim McGraw, Cody Johnson, Jon Pardi and a bunch of other country legends. But this day is gonna be one for the record books, a show that will leave y'all talking for years to come (tickets)
Sat 2 PM Annual Castro Concerto Competition Albuquerque Youth Symphony, 4407 Menaul Blvd. NE Join us to hear talented high school juniors compete for the privilege of performing with the Youth Symphony during the Albuquerque Youth Symphony Program's 2024-2025 concert season! This event is free and open to the public. We also plan to stream this event live on Facebook for anyone not able to attend in person
Sat 2 PM "Greatest Moments" - a fundraising concert for Opera On Tap New Mexico Central United Methodist Church, 201 University Blvd. NE Join us for an afternoon of music to help raise money for Opera on Tap - New Mexico! Featuring some faculty and students of University of New Mexico, along with other local professionals, we have put a program together highlighting some of the show-stopping, beautiful moments of opera and musical theater! Suggested donation $10
Sat 2 – 7 PM Rawking: An Afternoon Metal + Art + Comedy Extravaganza Juno, 1501 1st St. NW Featured performers include Light Thief, Destroy to Recreate, Guvtika, Abandoned Saviors. outdoors on the patio with Four Bands, Comedians, Artists, Vendors. Produced by Metal World Radio. 21+. $10 at the door or presales online
Sat 3 – 8 PM Albuquerque Roller Derby presents: Sandia Slammers vs. Bosque Bruisers! Expo New Mexico - Manuel Lujan Jr Exhibit Complex, 300 San Pedro Dr. NE Albuquerque Roller Derby has gotten SO big we’ve split into two teams! Sandia Slammers & Bosque Bruisers! Get your tickets for our first Home Game of the 2024 season
Sat 3:45 – 5:45 PM AND 7 - 9 PM The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 Flix Brewhouse, 3236 La Orilla Rd. NW Experience the Twilight saga's epic romance and thrilling fantasy BREAKING DAWN - PART 1 on the big screen! Bella and Edward, plus those they love, must deal with the chain of consequences brought on by a marriage, honeymoon, and the tumultuous birth of a child, which brings about unforeseen and shocking developments for Jacob Black (tickets)
Sat 4 – 8 PM Drink Local Downtown ABQ - May Step into the heart of Albuquerque with our thrilling, free monthly bar crawl event! Immerse yourself in the local charm as we celebrate community, culture, and creativity right in the heart of ABQ. In partnership with ABQCore Neighborhood Association, a locally organized and hosted event, we're bringing you a bar crawl experience like no other. This isn't just a crawl; it's a vibrant celebration of local businesses, a showcase of community talent, and a monthly escape into the unique flavors that make ABQ special
Sat 4 – 9 PM Summer Market ABQ Food Park, 6951 San Antonio Dr. NE Dive into the magic of summer evenings at ABQ Food Park with our captivating Summer Market! Join us for a delightful evening, where you can browse an enchanting array of offerings from local artisans and support our vibrant community businesses. Discover unique treasures crafted with love and passion by talented artisans, from handcrafted jewelry to exquisite home decor. Every purchase you make supports local creators and contributes to the thriving arts scene in our city
Sat 5 – 8 PM National Astronomy Day! Rainbow Park Observatory, 301 Southern Blvd SE, Rio Rancho The Rio Rancho Astronomical Society will host National Astronomy Day at Rainbow Park Observatory. There will be food for a donation, family activities and safe solar viewing. Dr. Tony Hull will appeal at 7 pm about his work on the James Webb Space Telescope. He will also have some info on light pollution
Sat 5 – 11 PM Beer & Jazz on the Hill Tractor Brewing, 122 Tulane Dr. SE We're bringing you a full night of brews and Jazz with the very talented Rona & Meli opening things up at 5pm and our house Jazz band Basilaris Trio closing things down at 8!
Sat 6 PM Bear Affair 4: Spanish Tapas Beer Pairing Dinner Boxing Bear Brewing, 8420 Firestone Ln. NE Join us on our patio for an ALMOST summer night paired with a variety of our seasonal beers, chef-crafted Spanish tapas, and flamenco. Featuring chef Christopher Midyette And the artist dance group Spanish Broom. Tickets are $65 per person and include a welcome beer, three course tapas style meal with beer pairings and entertainment for the evening
Sat 6 PM One Year Anniversary Celebration Urbanmama505 Kombucha, 1014 Central Ave SW, Ste A Celebrating one year of love, abundance, and sharing wellness. Right after Open Mic 4-6pm, we will be graced with a jazz concert by Davis Nelson-Hooker, an amazing local musician. Elixirs and small plates for purchase
Sat 6 – 9 PM Gone Country Saturdays with DJ Soiree Ponderosa Brewing, 1761 Bellamah Ave NW It's Gone Country Saturdays featuring the amazing DJ Soiree! Start your evening with free dance lessons at 5 pm, followed by family-friendly entertainment
Sat 7:30 – 9 PM Saturday Night Stand-Up Bosque Brewing Co - Nob Hill, 106 Girard Blvd. SE Live from ABQ, it’s… Saturday Night Stand-Up Hosted by Nax Davis! Every third Saturday of the month! Seating at 7:30 - Comedy at 8. Featured line-up of local comics includes: MEG FINN, BRYAN LAMBE, SARINA OCHOA, MARY BYRD, ROBERT EYSTER
Sat 8 PM – 1:15 AM Apparition Goth Night Historic El Rey Theater, 622 Central Ave SW A hauntingly dark, classic goth night featuring the Apparition team: DJ Ren, DJ Batboy, DJ Moonside. Doors at 8. $10 all night. 21+ Tickets at the door. Expect goth, darkwave, death rock, synthpop, dark post punk, ebm, dark dance, industrial, witch house, horror punk and more
Sat 8:30 PM – 1 AM SABOR Latin Night - SATURDAYS Bama's 1865, 6007 Osuna Rd. NE May 11th - SPECIAL GUEST DJ ITALIA! DJ Gabriel Goza & DJ Pedro will be serving you the saucy Salsa, Bachata, Cumbia, Merengue y Mas! Ample Parking, Safe Environment, Beautiful Venue, Good Food, Good Music, Good Vibes. 21+ / $10 cover
Sat 9 PM – 1 AM Cumbia + Rock en Espanol Juno, 1501 1st St. NW Grupo Super Verza with Ave. 69 and Lot Beat and DJ Tony. Baila! 21+, $15 at the door or online
** Sun 5/19 *\*
Sun 9 – 11 AM Elevated Roller Derby May Training Scrimmage Heights Community Center, 823 Buena Vista Dr. SE Officials' huddle 9:00AM. Captains' meeting at 9:20AM. First whistle 9:30AM. This is simply a black/white scrimmage. It will be used as an educational opportunity. NSO paperwork will be used as appropriate. You are encouraged to stretch your skills. Hospitality: This is a low/no production scrimmage, bring beverages and snacks for your own use. Bathrooms: The community center may not be open during the scrimmage. (That's the trade-off for a free space). You can stop at the nearby Starbucks before the event. Expectations: Skaters and Skating and Non-skating Officials are expected to follow all WFTDA Risk Management Guidelines. The venue is a designated alcohol, drug, and smoke-free space by the city of Albuquerque (sign up)
Sun 10 AM – 2 PM The Great Burque Bake On Rail Yards Market, 777 1st St. SW Get ready to whisk it all at the "Great Burque Bake-on," a special fundraiser for the non-profit Rail Yards Market: One dozen of Albuquerque's most talented bakers will dough head-to-head in a crusty competition for the ultimate bakery glory! Bakers brawl... You vote for the winners! This sugar-dusted showdown promises a blend of flour-fueled drama and buttery bravado, making it the yeast you can do to support your local confectionery champions. As these culinary wizards knead their way to the top, we guarantee you'll find their efforts both batter and sweeter than anything you've tasted before. Join us for a day of laughter, pastry, and a chance to see who rises as the crème de la crème of Burque's baking scene! 1) ORDER > Claim your Bake-on Box & exclusive market swag by ordering online May 10-16th, 2024. 2) LEARN > Follow our social media to learn about each contestant & their offering. 3) PICKUP > Grab your box of baked goodies & swag at the info booth Sunday May 19th. 4) ENJOY > Eat all the delectable goodies, savor the flavor, and read about all the contestants 5) VOTE >> Submit your votes online to choose the winners! (tickets) The Farmers' Market event is going down simultaneously with 175+ local vendors to explore, and is still FREE to enter and welcome to all. This funky fundraiser is going down during the FREE Rail Yards Farmers' Market. So you can peruse 150+ small businesses and enjoy the historic architecture while you enjoy your Great Burque Bake-on Box of goodies! All proceeds will benefit the Rail Yards Market. The Rail Yards market of Albuquerque is a certified 501(c)3 non-profit focused on building a resilient, sustainable, local economy where the surrounding historic communities thrive, all can participate, and everyone is enriched and inspired. Through food, art, education, and music, we invite the community together in an inclusive and festive atmosphere
Sun 11:30 AM The Addams Family Historic Lobo Theater, 3013 Central Ave NE THE HISTORIC LOBO THEATER is excited to bring The Addams Family to the big screen! Showing Starts at 11:30 am Tickets are ONLY $10 for General Admission $25 Brunch and a Movie Ticket $21 Brunch Only ticket
Sun 12:30 PM Annual Spring Tea Asbury UMC, 10000 Candelaria Rd. NE All are welcome to attend our Annual Spring Tea! This year's theme is "The Tapestries of Our Lives." Life can be like a tapestry; our quilt, with events, feelings, accomplishments, and even disappointments "stitched" in. Join us, for tea, while Cindy Kurey, AQS-certified quilted textiles appraiser, shares how quilting and her faith have helped her navigate life. She will also show her collection of antique, vintage, and modern quilts! There is no cost to attend, though RSVPs are required. Please call the church office 505-299-0643 or message us on Facebook to RSVP
2024.05.16 04:13 ForceElectrical4005 my wip for critique (mild violence warning) The Weight of Sin
Malcolm's heart pounds through the design of a moth circling a lit candle on his black t-shirt. The morning sun creeps over the horizon. Saturating his pallor skin with blood orange rays. Malcolm’s short auburn hair flits in the wind.The crimson clouds overhead appear as if the sky is bleeding. Malcolm peers ahead. The straight path before him. a cruel joke. It's a relentless reminder of the unyielding grip his past has on him. Each step a battle against the anxiety dragging him back into the darknessHeavy-eyed, he gazes upon the looming hotel. Parking in the parking lot, illuminated by a lonely streetlight. The air, thick with the scents of morning dew and urine. An assault on the senses. Ahead, cowers a young lady. Her face, bearing too much rouge. Her delicate jawline, framed by red hair, though it's now past its prime. Her attire speaks of success, but the swollen left eye betrays her. Short red skirt. Black fishnet stockings over long. Thin legs, her feet fight to fit into petite black high heels. a faded sky blue tank-top. Christened with a spattering of fresh blood—amongst other fluids.Her current trick is an arrogant punk with tall, drooping shoulders. He wears an ire-filled smile and an unkempt goatee. His cue ball head reflects the streetlight. Revealing his ugly dark-blue Dickies covered in grease. As well as With his open, garish work shirt, exposing a red wife-beater. Sean managed to embody everything Malcolm found repulsive. A name tag hangs off the punk’s shirt like a crooked portrait: Sean.Scumbags like Sean are a tempting meal. Malcolm’s mouth waters. He tries to look away. Bang! Malcolm snaps his head up. His eyes find the streetwalker as she rolls off the hood of a shitty muscle car—no doubt Sean’s. A smart man would mind his own business. When a man has an opportunity for pleasure. it's hard to resist. Malcolm is an anomaly and anything but “smart”.The air crackles with tension as Sean's words slice through. “The fuck you want?”Give me a reason. The thought chants in Malcolm’s head. A surge of anger courses through Malcolm. his muscles tense with the urge to retaliate, but beneath the surface, fear gnaws at him. .Sean steps up to Malcolm. Within seconds, they stand eye-to-eye. “Mind your own business, man,” Sean says."Is this really worth it?" the girl asks, her voice tinged burdened with pain.Give me a reason. The thought continues to chant in Malcolm’s head. With each word. the atmosphere grows heavier, suffocating Malcolm with a sense of dread. He struggles to keep his composure, his thoughts an eye in the storm.“I will fuck you up.” Sean says.Give me a reason.The girl buckles as she tries to get back up.. Sean kicks her. “Stay down, bitch!” The sight of Sean's violence against the girl sends a jolt of hunger through Malcolm. His blood boils as he watches her struggle.“Fuck off.” Sean lobs a fist at Malcolm; to Sean’s pupils are pins, Malcolm allows it to connect.His lip split, Malcolm tastes the familiar rush of life filling his mouth. pain explodes through his senses, followed by a rush. It's a familiar sensation, one that ignites a fire. Action beats from Malcolm’s heart to his limbs. Joy washes over him. Sean’s eyes widen, his true cowardice reveals itself now that trouble flashes in front of his eye.Malcolm gives him a cheerful grimace and spits out “Thank you.”
submitted by ForceElectrical4005 to writingcritiques [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 04:00 joanarcherknight MerMay - Nebula
Light reflected off the scales, reflecting a shimmer of rainbow colours. Even the sand that clung to the scales couldn’t dim the intricate swirl of light that the sunlight revealed on the black scales.
Water was spilled over the scales, washing away the sand to reveal the colours more clearly. There was no movement from the tail, nor the rest of the body.
“What is it?” He whispered.
“Some kind of fish.” His friend whispered back.
“It’s got a face.”
“Everything has a face.”
He gave his friend a look and lifted the seaweed from the head of the creature. “Does this look like a normal fish face to you?”
“I never said it looked normal.”
“It’s got arms.”
“So… it’s an otter. Otter fish… Fish otter…”
Laughter exploded from the two boys. They fell back in the sand, distracted for a moment from the thing that had washed up on the shore. The mix of animal was just too funny for them to ignore.
“A otter fish. What is wrong with you?”
“So many things.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Well, if you’re so smart, you tell me what it is then.”
They leaned back over the thing, studying its form. Scales ran from the end of the tail to the upper torso. There were two limbs from the top of the torso, but they didn’t reach very far. And a head.
It looked too close to a human shaped head for them to be comfortable, but the face was flat and grey, like the skin that wasn’t covered by the scales. No nose that they could really see, and seaweed was the only covering where hair was supposed to grow.
“Hey, open its mouth.”
“Excuse me?”
“Open its mouth. I wanna see if it has teeth.”
“You open it then!”
“I’m not touching that.”
“And you think I will?”
“You’re a lot braver than I am. You touch weird stuff all the time.”
“How about no one touches the weird thing’s mouth?”
The new voice startled them. They straightened, looking up and down the empty beach. It was still totally empty. And it would be for a few more months until the icy fingers of the wind were warmed by summer’s return.
“Down here.”
The eyes were black pools, no iris or pupil to be seen. They stared down at the creature, and the creature stared up at them. There was a scurry of movement from both the boys and the creature as they rushed away from each other.
It was ungainly on the shore and the boys reached the dunes before the creature was halfway to the water. They crouched in the sand, watching the creature struggle. Its arms didn’t extend fully, and it had to drag itself bit by bit across the sand.
“Should we go and help it?”
“Did you hear it talking?”
“I mean… Yeah. That was the… thing, right?”
“I can’t talk in a voice that low. Can you?”
The boy shook his head in response.
“And it’s moving. Really… really slowly. Do you think it needs help?”
They turned to look at the creature, still dragging itself across the sand in agonisingly slow progress. Together, they made their way back down the beach, hands grasping at each other’s clothing.
“Do you need help?” They called out.
The creature stopped and twisted to look at them with the black pools that served as its eyes.
“We could see how slowly you were moving.” One of the boys said haltingly.
It turned back to its slow path to the waves, dragging itself forward again. Now that they were close, they could see that the arms were partially fused to the torso, stopping them from extending all the way.
The forearms were the only part that could move unencumbered. A trail was being carved in the sand by the creature’s tail, a clear marker of where it had been.
“Are you sure you don’t want help?”
Much like a wolf or dog on land, the creature’s lips curled back from its teeth, baring a row of sharp teeth. The boys scrambled back, struggling to stay upright in the sand.
“We don’t want to hurt you.” The braver boy snapped.
“How can I trust that?” The creature hissed, voice like a rumble of thunder.
There was a moment of hesitation before the second boy spoke up. “If we were going to hurt you, we would have done it while you were unconscious.”
“Some monsters like to hear the screams.”
He stepped closer and crouched down. “Please let us help you.”
“If you must.”
The skin was cold and clammy, like chicken that had gone slimy with age. The boys shuddered as they touched it, grasping the creature’s fused upper arms. There was so much weight.
They staggered through the sand, chasing the leaving tide. Wet sand grasped at their boots and water had begun to seep into their socks when they finally laid the creature back down on the sand.
Little rippling waves caressed her webbed fingers and she pulled herself eagerly forward, hissing as the water surrounded her. The boys scrambled back from the water, remembering tales of sharks in shallow water that could still whip round and take prey.
“We helped you.”
“And I won’t kill you.” The creature hissed.
And then it was gone. A flick of the tail and the beach was empty but for the two boys, and the trail that had been carved by the creature’s tail. The boys exchanged a look and continued their walk along the deserted sands, silence laying heavy between them.
submitted by joanarcherknight to InkForge [link] [comments]
Water was spilled over the scales, washing away the sand to reveal the colours more clearly. There was no movement from the tail, nor the rest of the body.
“What is it?” He whispered.
“Some kind of fish.” His friend whispered back.
“It’s got a face.”
“Everything has a face.”
He gave his friend a look and lifted the seaweed from the head of the creature. “Does this look like a normal fish face to you?”
“I never said it looked normal.”
“It’s got arms.”
“So… it’s an otter. Otter fish… Fish otter…”
Laughter exploded from the two boys. They fell back in the sand, distracted for a moment from the thing that had washed up on the shore. The mix of animal was just too funny for them to ignore.
“A otter fish. What is wrong with you?”
“So many things.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Well, if you’re so smart, you tell me what it is then.”
They leaned back over the thing, studying its form. Scales ran from the end of the tail to the upper torso. There were two limbs from the top of the torso, but they didn’t reach very far. And a head.
It looked too close to a human shaped head for them to be comfortable, but the face was flat and grey, like the skin that wasn’t covered by the scales. No nose that they could really see, and seaweed was the only covering where hair was supposed to grow.
“Hey, open its mouth.”
“Excuse me?”
“Open its mouth. I wanna see if it has teeth.”
“You open it then!”
“I’m not touching that.”
“And you think I will?”
“You’re a lot braver than I am. You touch weird stuff all the time.”
“How about no one touches the weird thing’s mouth?”
The new voice startled them. They straightened, looking up and down the empty beach. It was still totally empty. And it would be for a few more months until the icy fingers of the wind were warmed by summer’s return.
“Down here.”
The eyes were black pools, no iris or pupil to be seen. They stared down at the creature, and the creature stared up at them. There was a scurry of movement from both the boys and the creature as they rushed away from each other.
It was ungainly on the shore and the boys reached the dunes before the creature was halfway to the water. They crouched in the sand, watching the creature struggle. Its arms didn’t extend fully, and it had to drag itself bit by bit across the sand.
“Should we go and help it?”
“Did you hear it talking?”
“I mean… Yeah. That was the… thing, right?”
“I can’t talk in a voice that low. Can you?”
The boy shook his head in response.
“And it’s moving. Really… really slowly. Do you think it needs help?”
They turned to look at the creature, still dragging itself across the sand in agonisingly slow progress. Together, they made their way back down the beach, hands grasping at each other’s clothing.
“Do you need help?” They called out.
The creature stopped and twisted to look at them with the black pools that served as its eyes.
“We could see how slowly you were moving.” One of the boys said haltingly.
It turned back to its slow path to the waves, dragging itself forward again. Now that they were close, they could see that the arms were partially fused to the torso, stopping them from extending all the way.
The forearms were the only part that could move unencumbered. A trail was being carved in the sand by the creature’s tail, a clear marker of where it had been.
“Are you sure you don’t want help?”
Much like a wolf or dog on land, the creature’s lips curled back from its teeth, baring a row of sharp teeth. The boys scrambled back, struggling to stay upright in the sand.
“We don’t want to hurt you.” The braver boy snapped.
“How can I trust that?” The creature hissed, voice like a rumble of thunder.
There was a moment of hesitation before the second boy spoke up. “If we were going to hurt you, we would have done it while you were unconscious.”
“Some monsters like to hear the screams.”
He stepped closer and crouched down. “Please let us help you.”
“If you must.”
The skin was cold and clammy, like chicken that had gone slimy with age. The boys shuddered as they touched it, grasping the creature’s fused upper arms. There was so much weight.
They staggered through the sand, chasing the leaving tide. Wet sand grasped at their boots and water had begun to seep into their socks when they finally laid the creature back down on the sand.
Little rippling waves caressed her webbed fingers and she pulled herself eagerly forward, hissing as the water surrounded her. The boys scrambled back from the water, remembering tales of sharks in shallow water that could still whip round and take prey.
“We helped you.”
“And I won’t kill you.” The creature hissed.
And then it was gone. A flick of the tail and the beach was empty but for the two boys, and the trail that had been carved by the creature’s tail. The boys exchanged a look and continued their walk along the deserted sands, silence laying heavy between them.
2024.05.16 04:00 joanarcherknight Nebula - MerMay
Light reflected off the scales, reflecting a shimmer of rainbow colours. Even the sand that clung to the scales couldn’t dim the intricate swirl of light that the sunlight revealed on the black scales.
Water was spilled over the scales, washing away the sand to reveal the colours more clearly. There was no movement from the tail, nor the rest of the body.
“What is it?” He whispered.
“Some kind of fish.” His friend whispered back.
“It’s got a face.”
“Everything has a face.”
He gave his friend a look and lifted the seaweed from the head of the creature. “Does this look like a normal fish face to you?”
“I never said it looked normal.”
“It’s got arms.”
“So… it’s an otter. Otter fish… Fish otter…”
Laughter exploded from the two boys. They fell back in the sand, distracted for a moment from the thing that had washed up on the shore. The mix of animal was just too funny for them to ignore.
“A otter fish. What is wrong with you?”
“So many things.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Well, if you’re so smart, you tell me what it is then.”
They leaned back over the thing, studying its form. Scales ran from the end of the tail to the upper torso. There were two limbs from the top of the torso, but they didn’t reach very far. And a head.
It looked too close to a human shaped head for them to be comfortable, but the face was flat and grey, like the skin that wasn’t covered by the scales. No nose that they could really see, and seaweed was the only covering where hair was supposed to grow.
“Hey, open its mouth.”
“Excuse me?”
“Open its mouth. I wanna see if it has teeth.”
“You open it then!”
“I’m not touching that.”
“And you think I will?”
“You’re a lot braver than I am. You touch weird stuff all the time.”
“How about no one touches the weird thing’s mouth?”
The new voice startled them. They straightened, looking up and down the empty beach. It was still totally empty. And it would be for a few more months until the icy fingers of the wind were warmed by summer’s return.
“Down here.”
The eyes were black pools, no iris or pupil to be seen. They stared down at the creature, and the creature stared up at them. There was a scurry of movement from both the boys and the creature as they rushed away from each other.
It was ungainly on the shore and the boys reached the dunes before the creature was halfway to the water. They crouched in the sand, watching the creature struggle. Its arms didn’t extend fully, and it had to drag itself bit by bit across the sand.
“Should we go and help it?”
“Did you hear it talking?”
“I mean… Yeah. That was the… thing, right?”
“I can’t talk in a voice that low. Can you?”
The boy shook his head in response.
“And it’s moving. Really… really slowly. Do you think it needs help?”
They turned to look at the creature, still dragging itself across the sand in agonisingly slow progress. Together, they made their way back down the beach, hands grasping at each other’s clothing.
“Do you need help?” They called out.
The creature stopped and twisted to look at them with the black pools that served as its eyes.
“We could see how slowly you were moving.” One of the boys said haltingly.
It turned back to its slow path to the waves, dragging itself forward again. Now that they were close, they could see that the arms were partially fused to the torso, stopping them from extending all the way.
The forearms were the only part that could move unencumbered. A trail was being carved in the sand by the creature’s tail, a clear marker of where it had been.
“Are you sure you don’t want help?”
Much like a wolf or dog on land, the creature’s lips curled back from its teeth, baring a row of sharp teeth. The boys scrambled back, struggling to stay upright in the sand.
“We don’t want to hurt you.” The braver boy snapped.
“How can I trust that?” The creature hissed, voice like a rumble of thunder.
There was a moment of hesitation before the second boy spoke up. “If we were going to hurt you, we would have done it while you were unconscious.”
“Some monsters like to hear the screams.”
He stepped closer and crouched down. “Please let us help you.”
“If you must.”
The skin was cold and clammy, like chicken that had gone slimy with age. The boys shuddered as they touched it, grasping the creature’s fused upper arms. There was so much weight.
They staggered through the sand, chasing the leaving tide. Wet sand grasped at their boots and water had begun to seep into their socks when they finally laid the creature back down on the sand.
Little rippling waves caressed her webbed fingers and she pulled herself eagerly forward, hissing as the water surrounded her. The boys scrambled back from the water, remembering tales of sharks in shallow water that could still whip round and take prey.
“We helped you.”
“And I won’t kill you.” The creature hissed.
And then it was gone. A flick of the tail and the beach was empty but for the two boys, and the trail that had been carved by the creature’s tail. The boys exchanged a look and continued their walk along the deserted sands, silence laying heavy between them.
submitted by joanarcherknight to JAKnight [link] [comments]
Water was spilled over the scales, washing away the sand to reveal the colours more clearly. There was no movement from the tail, nor the rest of the body.
“What is it?” He whispered.
“Some kind of fish.” His friend whispered back.
“It’s got a face.”
“Everything has a face.”
He gave his friend a look and lifted the seaweed from the head of the creature. “Does this look like a normal fish face to you?”
“I never said it looked normal.”
“It’s got arms.”
“So… it’s an otter. Otter fish… Fish otter…”
Laughter exploded from the two boys. They fell back in the sand, distracted for a moment from the thing that had washed up on the shore. The mix of animal was just too funny for them to ignore.
“A otter fish. What is wrong with you?”
“So many things.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Well, if you’re so smart, you tell me what it is then.”
They leaned back over the thing, studying its form. Scales ran from the end of the tail to the upper torso. There were two limbs from the top of the torso, but they didn’t reach very far. And a head.
It looked too close to a human shaped head for them to be comfortable, but the face was flat and grey, like the skin that wasn’t covered by the scales. No nose that they could really see, and seaweed was the only covering where hair was supposed to grow.
“Hey, open its mouth.”
“Excuse me?”
“Open its mouth. I wanna see if it has teeth.”
“You open it then!”
“I’m not touching that.”
“And you think I will?”
“You’re a lot braver than I am. You touch weird stuff all the time.”
“How about no one touches the weird thing’s mouth?”
The new voice startled them. They straightened, looking up and down the empty beach. It was still totally empty. And it would be for a few more months until the icy fingers of the wind were warmed by summer’s return.
“Down here.”
The eyes were black pools, no iris or pupil to be seen. They stared down at the creature, and the creature stared up at them. There was a scurry of movement from both the boys and the creature as they rushed away from each other.
It was ungainly on the shore and the boys reached the dunes before the creature was halfway to the water. They crouched in the sand, watching the creature struggle. Its arms didn’t extend fully, and it had to drag itself bit by bit across the sand.
“Should we go and help it?”
“Did you hear it talking?”
“I mean… Yeah. That was the… thing, right?”
“I can’t talk in a voice that low. Can you?”
The boy shook his head in response.
“And it’s moving. Really… really slowly. Do you think it needs help?”
They turned to look at the creature, still dragging itself across the sand in agonisingly slow progress. Together, they made their way back down the beach, hands grasping at each other’s clothing.
“Do you need help?” They called out.
The creature stopped and twisted to look at them with the black pools that served as its eyes.
“We could see how slowly you were moving.” One of the boys said haltingly.
It turned back to its slow path to the waves, dragging itself forward again. Now that they were close, they could see that the arms were partially fused to the torso, stopping them from extending all the way.
The forearms were the only part that could move unencumbered. A trail was being carved in the sand by the creature’s tail, a clear marker of where it had been.
“Are you sure you don’t want help?”
Much like a wolf or dog on land, the creature’s lips curled back from its teeth, baring a row of sharp teeth. The boys scrambled back, struggling to stay upright in the sand.
“We don’t want to hurt you.” The braver boy snapped.
“How can I trust that?” The creature hissed, voice like a rumble of thunder.
There was a moment of hesitation before the second boy spoke up. “If we were going to hurt you, we would have done it while you were unconscious.”
“Some monsters like to hear the screams.”
He stepped closer and crouched down. “Please let us help you.”
“If you must.”
The skin was cold and clammy, like chicken that had gone slimy with age. The boys shuddered as they touched it, grasping the creature’s fused upper arms. There was so much weight.
They staggered through the sand, chasing the leaving tide. Wet sand grasped at their boots and water had begun to seep into their socks when they finally laid the creature back down on the sand.
Little rippling waves caressed her webbed fingers and she pulled herself eagerly forward, hissing as the water surrounded her. The boys scrambled back from the water, remembering tales of sharks in shallow water that could still whip round and take prey.
“We helped you.”
“And I won’t kill you.” The creature hissed.
And then it was gone. A flick of the tail and the beach was empty but for the two boys, and the trail that had been carved by the creature’s tail. The boys exchanged a look and continued their walk along the deserted sands, silence laying heavy between them.
2024.05.16 03:53 BeNotAfraid505 Salvation
It seems like she’s feeling insecure again. I keep my eyes shut tight, preparing myself for the song and dance I had been through so many times before. The weight of the bed shifts under me as she crawls under the blankets. A cold limb flops over my torso, wrapping me in a frigid embrace. I resist the urge to flinch as the moist, squishy mass of flesh presses into my forehead, a tickling droplet of fluid slides down my face and over my tightly pursed lips. Not daring to move, I waited patiently for the words I knew must come. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a muffled teary voice sounds in a desperate tone:
“Do you...”
The voice falters, emitting several low-pitched, labored gurgles before continuing:
“Love me?”
Without hesitation I respond, as gently as could be managed:
“Of course I love you. But it’s time to go back to sleep now, okay?”
The gurgling continues, higher pitched now, like an excited baby. After a few moments the squishy mass detaches itself from my forehead, and the weight in the bed shifts. The gentle smacking of feet against hardwood floor, and a door quietly closing across the house resound in the otherwise silent room. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I rock gently back and forth with my head in between my legs, resisting the tears that are fighting to escape. I allow a few moments of this pointless self-pity before forcing myself to stand up.
I walk down the hallway to the bathroom, not allowing my eyes to stray to the door to what used to be my room. A look in the mirror reveals that my forehead has already started breaking out in small orange pustules, along with a small streak of them where the fluid had dripped down my face. At least it didn't get in my mouth this time. That isn’t a panic I would like to revisit. I retrieve the small bottle of vinegar from the medicine cabinet and apply it to a cotton ball, beginning the tedious task of treating my face. A harsher acid would probably do a better job, but I prefer to avoid the stinging even if the pustules disappear more slowly. It’s not like I need to look handsome for anyone. It’s unlikely she can even really see me.
Once my skin is sufficiently covered in the stuff, I grab a bucket and mop, and clean the wet footprints from the hallway, and from the living room where my bed is located. Most of the wood flooring throughout the house is already somewhat corroded, but I’d prefer to keep my home intact to the extent that I am able. Although it’s up to anyone’s guess what manner of hellscape the bedroom must look like. I hadn’t been in that room in a long time. That was her domain now, and there was no reason for me to enter. No reason to take that risk.
I light the small gas cooktop in the kitchen and get to work making food for the day. Canned food is surprisingly appetizing when there’s nothing to do but eat. It would taste better with some seasoning, but there was no point in going through that much effort. This food serves one purpose, and that’s to keep us from starving. I slide one plate under the crack between the floor and the bedroom door and sit down in the living room with the other plate in hand.
The book on the coffee table catches my eye as it does every morning. Sighing, I pick up the ratty collection of pages and flip to a random one. One of the few books on the “Great Plague” as they call it, that was ever published, or at least, the only one I could ever find. Titled “The End” by Jared Kramer, It was more of a fanatical opinion piece than a proper informative book, but Kramer at least provided a bit of information on the virus, how the transformation works, and what methods could be used to, in his words, “Cure” the afflicted. A shotgun was noted as the best medicine, with gasoline and matches being a close second. Near the middle of the book, the portion that was coincidentally staring back at me from the pages, it turned into a near unintelligible ranting on the philosophy of consciousness. Apparently, Kramer had only just begun to consider whether blowing the afflicted’s brains out was a morally reasonable decision. He had never come across as a particularly intelligent guy in his writings, and my assumption was that he was simply the only person who wrote fast enough to get a book published before the plague became a worldwide epidemic. Towards the end of the book, Kramer does a 180 and states repeatedly that “Accepting the transformation is the only road to salvation”.
“Salvation... as if”
My words perish in the empty air, a death rattle of frustrated skepticism.
I had never quite understood what that actually meant. Salvation would be something like deliverance from harm, harm being the only thing that the plague brought to the world. The book thuds as I carelessly toss it back on the table. It's obvious that the author was in the process of transforming as he wrote the final passages, but they never ceased to bother me. Perhaps I'm just fixating on those words as a way of keeping my mind occupied.
There’s really no reason to focus on such pointless things.
--------------------
The following night my sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. She usually shows up once a week, if not less frequently. After waking, the bathroom mirror reveals that the pustules ha subsided slightly, leaving my skin smooth, if not free of the noticeable blemishes. A subtle glint of light shines off of my head and my heart rate accelerates.
Surely not.
Surely it was a trick of the light.
I begin rifling through my matted hair furiously and there it is. A single, silver hair hanging in front of my forehead.
I guess this is it then.
She made sure I had sworn on everything under the sun. Her stupid goofy smile reflected in my memory.
“First grey hair and I’m outta here mister”
To think that a silly little joke between us had turned into this solemn responsibility. The steel of the revolver was cold in my palm. My eyes locked onto it, unsure of when it had made its way from the drawer of the coffee table into my hand, or for that matter, when I had entered the living room. The earth seemed to be rotating at impossible speeds. Everything was black except for the gun in my hand and the book on the coffee table. That goddamn book. One of the pages had begun to tear away from the others, no doubt a result of my less than careful treatment of the thing, and a single word seemed to assault my fragile psyche.
Salvation.
I get it now
My heartbeat slows marginally as the unravelling of this book that I’ve read so many times presented a welcome distraction. There had been nothing left for Kramer, or anyone else for that matter, in a world that was dying around them. His salvation was freedom from the great plague. His call to “accept” the transformation, was not the same as giving in to it. After all, hadn’t he expressed over and over again exactly how to “find release” as he called it, from the infection.
Kramer, unlike me, had accepted that there was no life in transformation, no being, no humanity, and no way back. His moral dilemma had come to a close, likely with a bullet in his brain.
A reluctant chuckle rose through my chest and escaped my throat. It didn’t sound like me. It was twisted, choked, and raspy. She had always known hadn’t she, that I would stay in this house with her. That’s why she had forced me to swear up and down on something as silly and inevitable as a grey hair, before locking herself in that room five years ago. Knowing her, it had all been for my own good, a way for her to look out for me even after she was long gone.
The creak of the door was like nails on a chalkboard. I laid my eyes for the first time in years on my wife, or at least, what was left of her. I had seen the afflicted before, but seeing her in this state brought a blockage to my throat that nothing could have prepared me for. Her head had been obscured by the typical growth, characteristic of the great plague, A mass wider than her torso which was completely wrapped around her head, the loose flesh sagging down onto her shoulders. Large orange boils were dotted across this mass, as well as glistening, concave pits, where those boils had burst and left scars. The thick external vein structure wrapped around it was partially translucent, providing a window to the tar-like substance flowing slowly throughout. The worst thing, however, the thing that forced my tears out of my eyes and onto the corroded floor, was her body. Her clothes had long since disintegrated, leaving a sight that was fundamentally identical to what I remembered, with one exception. The excess weight of the mass upon her shoulder had atrophied her spine, which had crumpled, leaving her torso contorted in a grotesque fashion, the flesh and muscle folding in upon itself in places.
I had let this happen. I had as good as desecrated my wife’s corpse by leaving her in this state, by convincing myself that a cure would be found for a plague that had long-since been eradicated by other means. I did this.
My hands move as though without instruction from my brain, raising the revolver to my eye-level, pointing at the place where my wife’s head was concealed amid that horrid mass of flesh.
Her head tilted upwards slightly, as if she was looking at me with eyes that had been long-since obscured. That muffled, teary voice sounded out from amidst the heap weighing on her shoulders. Despite myself hesitated for just a moment, savoring the shadow of a voice that I would never hear again.
“Do you love me?”
submitted by BeNotAfraid505 to Horror_stories [link] [comments]
“Do you...”
The voice falters, emitting several low-pitched, labored gurgles before continuing:
“Love me?”
Without hesitation I respond, as gently as could be managed:
“Of course I love you. But it’s time to go back to sleep now, okay?”
The gurgling continues, higher pitched now, like an excited baby. After a few moments the squishy mass detaches itself from my forehead, and the weight in the bed shifts. The gentle smacking of feet against hardwood floor, and a door quietly closing across the house resound in the otherwise silent room. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I rock gently back and forth with my head in between my legs, resisting the tears that are fighting to escape. I allow a few moments of this pointless self-pity before forcing myself to stand up.
I walk down the hallway to the bathroom, not allowing my eyes to stray to the door to what used to be my room. A look in the mirror reveals that my forehead has already started breaking out in small orange pustules, along with a small streak of them where the fluid had dripped down my face. At least it didn't get in my mouth this time. That isn’t a panic I would like to revisit. I retrieve the small bottle of vinegar from the medicine cabinet and apply it to a cotton ball, beginning the tedious task of treating my face. A harsher acid would probably do a better job, but I prefer to avoid the stinging even if the pustules disappear more slowly. It’s not like I need to look handsome for anyone. It’s unlikely she can even really see me.
Once my skin is sufficiently covered in the stuff, I grab a bucket and mop, and clean the wet footprints from the hallway, and from the living room where my bed is located. Most of the wood flooring throughout the house is already somewhat corroded, but I’d prefer to keep my home intact to the extent that I am able. Although it’s up to anyone’s guess what manner of hellscape the bedroom must look like. I hadn’t been in that room in a long time. That was her domain now, and there was no reason for me to enter. No reason to take that risk.
I light the small gas cooktop in the kitchen and get to work making food for the day. Canned food is surprisingly appetizing when there’s nothing to do but eat. It would taste better with some seasoning, but there was no point in going through that much effort. This food serves one purpose, and that’s to keep us from starving. I slide one plate under the crack between the floor and the bedroom door and sit down in the living room with the other plate in hand.
The book on the coffee table catches my eye as it does every morning. Sighing, I pick up the ratty collection of pages and flip to a random one. One of the few books on the “Great Plague” as they call it, that was ever published, or at least, the only one I could ever find. Titled “The End” by Jared Kramer, It was more of a fanatical opinion piece than a proper informative book, but Kramer at least provided a bit of information on the virus, how the transformation works, and what methods could be used to, in his words, “Cure” the afflicted. A shotgun was noted as the best medicine, with gasoline and matches being a close second. Near the middle of the book, the portion that was coincidentally staring back at me from the pages, it turned into a near unintelligible ranting on the philosophy of consciousness. Apparently, Kramer had only just begun to consider whether blowing the afflicted’s brains out was a morally reasonable decision. He had never come across as a particularly intelligent guy in his writings, and my assumption was that he was simply the only person who wrote fast enough to get a book published before the plague became a worldwide epidemic. Towards the end of the book, Kramer does a 180 and states repeatedly that “Accepting the transformation is the only road to salvation”.
“Salvation... as if”
My words perish in the empty air, a death rattle of frustrated skepticism.
I had never quite understood what that actually meant. Salvation would be something like deliverance from harm, harm being the only thing that the plague brought to the world. The book thuds as I carelessly toss it back on the table. It's obvious that the author was in the process of transforming as he wrote the final passages, but they never ceased to bother me. Perhaps I'm just fixating on those words as a way of keeping my mind occupied.
There’s really no reason to focus on such pointless things.
--------------------
The following night my sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. She usually shows up once a week, if not less frequently. After waking, the bathroom mirror reveals that the pustules ha subsided slightly, leaving my skin smooth, if not free of the noticeable blemishes. A subtle glint of light shines off of my head and my heart rate accelerates.
Surely not.
Surely it was a trick of the light.
I begin rifling through my matted hair furiously and there it is. A single, silver hair hanging in front of my forehead.
I guess this is it then.
She made sure I had sworn on everything under the sun. Her stupid goofy smile reflected in my memory.
“First grey hair and I’m outta here mister”
To think that a silly little joke between us had turned into this solemn responsibility. The steel of the revolver was cold in my palm. My eyes locked onto it, unsure of when it had made its way from the drawer of the coffee table into my hand, or for that matter, when I had entered the living room. The earth seemed to be rotating at impossible speeds. Everything was black except for the gun in my hand and the book on the coffee table. That goddamn book. One of the pages had begun to tear away from the others, no doubt a result of my less than careful treatment of the thing, and a single word seemed to assault my fragile psyche.
Salvation.
I get it now
My heartbeat slows marginally as the unravelling of this book that I’ve read so many times presented a welcome distraction. There had been nothing left for Kramer, or anyone else for that matter, in a world that was dying around them. His salvation was freedom from the great plague. His call to “accept” the transformation, was not the same as giving in to it. After all, hadn’t he expressed over and over again exactly how to “find release” as he called it, from the infection.
Kramer, unlike me, had accepted that there was no life in transformation, no being, no humanity, and no way back. His moral dilemma had come to a close, likely with a bullet in his brain.
A reluctant chuckle rose through my chest and escaped my throat. It didn’t sound like me. It was twisted, choked, and raspy. She had always known hadn’t she, that I would stay in this house with her. That’s why she had forced me to swear up and down on something as silly and inevitable as a grey hair, before locking herself in that room five years ago. Knowing her, it had all been for my own good, a way for her to look out for me even after she was long gone.
The creak of the door was like nails on a chalkboard. I laid my eyes for the first time in years on my wife, or at least, what was left of her. I had seen the afflicted before, but seeing her in this state brought a blockage to my throat that nothing could have prepared me for. Her head had been obscured by the typical growth, characteristic of the great plague, A mass wider than her torso which was completely wrapped around her head, the loose flesh sagging down onto her shoulders. Large orange boils were dotted across this mass, as well as glistening, concave pits, where those boils had burst and left scars. The thick external vein structure wrapped around it was partially translucent, providing a window to the tar-like substance flowing slowly throughout. The worst thing, however, the thing that forced my tears out of my eyes and onto the corroded floor, was her body. Her clothes had long since disintegrated, leaving a sight that was fundamentally identical to what I remembered, with one exception. The excess weight of the mass upon her shoulder had atrophied her spine, which had crumpled, leaving her torso contorted in a grotesque fashion, the flesh and muscle folding in upon itself in places.
I had let this happen. I had as good as desecrated my wife’s corpse by leaving her in this state, by convincing myself that a cure would be found for a plague that had long-since been eradicated by other means. I did this.
My hands move as though without instruction from my brain, raising the revolver to my eye-level, pointing at the place where my wife’s head was concealed amid that horrid mass of flesh.
Her head tilted upwards slightly, as if she was looking at me with eyes that had been long-since obscured. That muffled, teary voice sounded out from amidst the heap weighing on her shoulders. Despite myself hesitated for just a moment, savoring the shadow of a voice that I would never hear again.
“Do you love me?”
2024.05.16 03:48 BeNotAfraid505 Salvation
It seems like she’s feeling insecure again. I keep my eyes shut tight, preparing myself for the song and dance I had been through so many times before. The weight of the bed shifts under me as she crawls under the blankets. A cold limb flops over my torso, wrapping me in a frigid embrace. I resist the urge to flinch as the moist, squishy mass of flesh presses into my forehead, a tickling droplet of fluid slides down my face and over my tightly pursed lips. Not daring to move, I waited patiently for the words I knew must come. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a muffled teary voice sounds in a desperate tone:
“Do you...”
The voice falters, emitting several low-pitched, labored gurgles before continuing:
“Love me?”
Without hesitation I respond, as gently as could be managed:
“Of course I love you. But it’s time to go back to sleep now, okay?”
The gurgling continues, higher pitched now, like an excited baby. After a few moments the squishy mass detaches itself from my forehead, and the weight in the bed shifts. The gentle smacking of feet against hardwood floor, and a door quietly closing across the house resound in the otherwise silent room. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I rock gently back and forth with my head in between my legs, resisting the tears that are fighting to escape. I allow a few moments of this pointless self-pity before forcing myself to stand up.
I walk down the hallway to the bathroom, not allowing my eyes to stray to the door to what used to be my room. A look in the mirror reveals that my forehead has already started breaking out in small orange pustules, along with a small streak of them where the fluid had dripped down my face. At least it didn't get in my mouth this time. That isn’t a panic I would like to revisit. I retrieve the small bottle of vinegar from the medicine cabinet and apply it to a cotton ball, beginning the tedious task of treating my face. A harsher acid would probably do a better job, but I prefer to avoid the stinging even if the pustules disappear more slowly. It’s not like I need to look handsome for anyone. It’s unlikely she can even really see me.
Once my skin is sufficiently covered in the stuff, I grab a bucket and mop, and clean the wet footprints from the hallway, and from the living room where my bed is located. Most of the wood flooring throughout the house is already somewhat corroded, but I’d prefer to keep my home intact to the extent that I am able. Although it’s up to anyone’s guess what manner of hellscape the bedroom must look like. I hadn’t been in that room in a long time. That was her domain now, and there was no reason for me to enter. No reason to take that risk.
I light the small gas cooktop in the kitchen and get to work making food for the day. Canned food is surprisingly appetizing when there’s nothing to do but eat. It would taste better with some seasoning, but there was no point in going through that much effort. This food serves one purpose, and that’s to keep us from starving. I slide one plate under the crack between the floor and the bedroom door and sit down in the living room with the other plate in hand.
The book on the coffee table catches my eye as it does every morning. Sighing, I pick up the ratty collection of pages and flip to a random one. One of the few books on the “Great Plague” as they call it, that was ever published, or at least, the only one I could ever find. Titled “The End” by Jared Kramer, It was more of a fanatical opinion piece than a proper informative book, but Kramer at least provided a bit of information on the virus, how the transformation works, and what methods could be used to, in his words, “Cure” the afflicted. A shotgun was noted as the best medicine, with gasoline and matches being a close second. Near the middle of the book, the portion that was coincidentally staring back at me from the pages, it turned into a near unintelligible ranting on the philosophy of consciousness. Apparently, Kramer had only just begun to consider whether blowing the afflicted’s brains out was a morally reasonable decision. He had never come across as a particularly intelligent guy in his writings, and my assumption was that he was simply the only person who wrote fast enough to get a book published before the plague became a worldwide epidemic. Towards the end of the book, Kramer does a 180 and states repeatedly that “Accepting the transformation is the only road to salvation”.
“Salvation... as if”
My words perish in the empty air, a death rattle of frustrated skepticism.
I had never quite understood what that actually meant. Salvation would be something like deliverance from harm, harm being the only thing that the plague brought to the world. The book thuds as I carelessly toss it back on the table. It's obvious that the author was in the process of transforming as he wrote the final passages, but they never ceased to bother me. Perhaps I'm just fixating on those words as a way of keeping my mind occupied.
There’s really no reason to focus on such pointless things.
--------------------
The following night my sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. She usually shows up once a week, if not less frequently. After waking, the bathroom mirror reveals that the pustules ha subsided slightly, leaving my skin smooth, if not free of the noticeable blemishes. A subtle glint of light shines off of my head and my heart rate accelerates.
Surely not.
Surely it was a trick of the light.
I begin rifling through my matted hair furiously and there it is. A single, silver hair hanging in front of my forehead.
I guess this is it then.
She made sure I had sworn on everything under the sun. Her stupid goofy smile reflected in my memory.
“First grey hair and I’m outta here mister”
To think that a silly little joke between us had turned into this solemn responsibility. The steel of the revolver was cold in my palm. My eyes locked onto it, unsure of when it had made its way from the drawer of the coffee table into my hand, or for that matter, when I had entered the living room. The earth seemed to be rotating at impossible speeds. Everything was black except for the gun in my hand and the book on the coffee table. That goddamn book. One of the pages had begun to tear away from the others, no doubt a result of my less than careful treatment of the thing, and a single word seemed to assault my fragile psyche.
Salvation.
I get it now
My heartbeat slows marginally as the unravelling of this book that I’ve read so many times presented a welcome distraction. There had been nothing left for Kramer, or anyone else for that matter, in a world that was dying around them. His salvation was freedom from the great plague. His call to “accept” the transformation, was not the same as giving in to it. After all, hadn’t he expressed over and over again exactly how to “find release” as he called it, from the infection.
Kramer, unlike me, had accepted that there was no life in transformation, no being, no humanity, and no way back. His moral dilemma had come to a close, likely with a bullet in his brain.
A reluctant chuckle rose through my chest and escaped my throat. It didn’t sound like me. It was twisted, choked, and raspy. She had always known hadn’t she, that I would stay in this house with her. That’s why she had forced me to swear up and down on something as silly and inevitable as a grey hair, before locking herself in that room five years ago. Knowing her, it had all been for my own good, a way for her to look out for me even after she was long gone.
The creak of the door was like nails on a chalkboard. I laid my eyes for the first time in years on my wife, or at least, what was left of her. I had seen the afflicted before, but seeing her in this state brought a blockage to my throat that nothing could have prepared me for. Her head had been obscured by the typical growth, characteristic of the great plague, A mass wider than her torso which was completely wrapped around her head, the loose flesh sagging down onto her shoulders. Large orange boils were dotted across this mass, as well as glistening, concave pits, where those boils had burst and left scars. The thick external vein structure wrapped around it was partially translucent, providing a window to the tar-like substance flowing slowly throughout. The worst thing, however, the thing that forced my tears out of my eyes and onto the corroded floor, was her body. Her clothes had long since disintegrated, leaving a sight that was fundamentally identical to what I remembered, with one exception. The excess weight of the mass upon her shoulder had atrophied her spine, which had crumpled, leaving her torso contorted in a grotesque fashion, the flesh and muscle folding in upon itself in places.
I had let this happen. I had as good as desecrated my wife’s corpse by leaving her in this state, by convincing myself that a cure would be found for a plague that had long-since been eradicated by other means. I did this.
My hands move as though without instruction from my brain, raising the revolver to my eye-level, pointing at the place where my wife’s head was concealed amid that horrid mass of flesh.
Her head tilted upwards slightly, as if she was looking at me with eyes that had been long-since obscured. That muffled, teary voice sounded out from amidst the heap weighing on her shoulders. Despite myself hesitated for just a moment, savoring the shadow of a voice that I would never hear again.
“Do you love me?”
submitted by BeNotAfraid505 to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]
“Do you...”
The voice falters, emitting several low-pitched, labored gurgles before continuing:
“Love me?”
Without hesitation I respond, as gently as could be managed:
“Of course I love you. But it’s time to go back to sleep now, okay?”
The gurgling continues, higher pitched now, like an excited baby. After a few moments the squishy mass detaches itself from my forehead, and the weight in the bed shifts. The gentle smacking of feet against hardwood floor, and a door quietly closing across the house resound in the otherwise silent room. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I rock gently back and forth with my head in between my legs, resisting the tears that are fighting to escape. I allow a few moments of this pointless self-pity before forcing myself to stand up.
I walk down the hallway to the bathroom, not allowing my eyes to stray to the door to what used to be my room. A look in the mirror reveals that my forehead has already started breaking out in small orange pustules, along with a small streak of them where the fluid had dripped down my face. At least it didn't get in my mouth this time. That isn’t a panic I would like to revisit. I retrieve the small bottle of vinegar from the medicine cabinet and apply it to a cotton ball, beginning the tedious task of treating my face. A harsher acid would probably do a better job, but I prefer to avoid the stinging even if the pustules disappear more slowly. It’s not like I need to look handsome for anyone. It’s unlikely she can even really see me.
Once my skin is sufficiently covered in the stuff, I grab a bucket and mop, and clean the wet footprints from the hallway, and from the living room where my bed is located. Most of the wood flooring throughout the house is already somewhat corroded, but I’d prefer to keep my home intact to the extent that I am able. Although it’s up to anyone’s guess what manner of hellscape the bedroom must look like. I hadn’t been in that room in a long time. That was her domain now, and there was no reason for me to enter. No reason to take that risk.
I light the small gas cooktop in the kitchen and get to work making food for the day. Canned food is surprisingly appetizing when there’s nothing to do but eat. It would taste better with some seasoning, but there was no point in going through that much effort. This food serves one purpose, and that’s to keep us from starving. I slide one plate under the crack between the floor and the bedroom door and sit down in the living room with the other plate in hand.
The book on the coffee table catches my eye as it does every morning. Sighing, I pick up the ratty collection of pages and flip to a random one. One of the few books on the “Great Plague” as they call it, that was ever published, or at least, the only one I could ever find. Titled “The End” by Jared Kramer, It was more of a fanatical opinion piece than a proper informative book, but Kramer at least provided a bit of information on the virus, how the transformation works, and what methods could be used to, in his words, “Cure” the afflicted. A shotgun was noted as the best medicine, with gasoline and matches being a close second. Near the middle of the book, the portion that was coincidentally staring back at me from the pages, it turned into a near unintelligible ranting on the philosophy of consciousness. Apparently, Kramer had only just begun to consider whether blowing the afflicted’s brains out was a morally reasonable decision. He had never come across as a particularly intelligent guy in his writings, and my assumption was that he was simply the only person who wrote fast enough to get a book published before the plague became a worldwide epidemic. Towards the end of the book, Kramer does a 180 and states repeatedly that “Accepting the transformation is the only road to salvation”.
“Salvation... as if”
My words perish in the empty air, a death rattle of frustrated skepticism.
I had never quite understood what that actually meant. Salvation would be something like deliverance from harm, harm being the only thing that the plague brought to the world. The book thuds as I carelessly toss it back on the table. It's obvious that the author was in the process of transforming as he wrote the final passages, but they never ceased to bother me. Perhaps I'm just fixating on those words as a way of keeping my mind occupied.
There’s really no reason to focus on such pointless things.
--------------------
The following night my sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. She usually shows up once a week, if not less frequently. After waking, the bathroom mirror reveals that the pustules ha subsided slightly, leaving my skin smooth, if not free of the noticeable blemishes. A subtle glint of light shines off of my head and my heart rate accelerates.
Surely not.
Surely it was a trick of the light.
I begin rifling through my matted hair furiously and there it is. A single, silver hair hanging in front of my forehead.
I guess this is it then.
She made sure I had sworn on everything under the sun. Her stupid goofy smile reflected in my memory.
“First grey hair and I’m outta here mister”
To think that a silly little joke between us had turned into this solemn responsibility. The steel of the revolver was cold in my palm. My eyes locked onto it, unsure of when it had made its way from the drawer of the coffee table into my hand, or for that matter, when I had entered the living room. The earth seemed to be rotating at impossible speeds. Everything was black except for the gun in my hand and the book on the coffee table. That goddamn book. One of the pages had begun to tear away from the others, no doubt a result of my less than careful treatment of the thing, and a single word seemed to assault my fragile psyche.
Salvation.
I get it now
My heartbeat slows marginally as the unravelling of this book that I’ve read so many times presented a welcome distraction. There had been nothing left for Kramer, or anyone else for that matter, in a world that was dying around them. His salvation was freedom from the great plague. His call to “accept” the transformation, was not the same as giving in to it. After all, hadn’t he expressed over and over again exactly how to “find release” as he called it, from the infection.
Kramer, unlike me, had accepted that there was no life in transformation, no being, no humanity, and no way back. His moral dilemma had come to a close, likely with a bullet in his brain.
A reluctant chuckle rose through my chest and escaped my throat. It didn’t sound like me. It was twisted, choked, and raspy. She had always known hadn’t she, that I would stay in this house with her. That’s why she had forced me to swear up and down on something as silly and inevitable as a grey hair, before locking herself in that room five years ago. Knowing her, it had all been for my own good, a way for her to look out for me even after she was long gone.
The creak of the door was like nails on a chalkboard. I laid my eyes for the first time in years on my wife, or at least, what was left of her. I had seen the afflicted before, but seeing her in this state brought a blockage to my throat that nothing could have prepared me for. Her head had been obscured by the typical growth, characteristic of the great plague, A mass wider than her torso which was completely wrapped around her head, the loose flesh sagging down onto her shoulders. Large orange boils were dotted across this mass, as well as glistening, concave pits, where those boils had burst and left scars. The thick external vein structure wrapped around it was partially translucent, providing a window to the tar-like substance flowing slowly throughout. The worst thing, however, the thing that forced my tears out of my eyes and onto the corroded floor, was her body. Her clothes had long since disintegrated, leaving a sight that was fundamentally identical to what I remembered, with one exception. The excess weight of the mass upon her shoulder had atrophied her spine, which had crumpled, leaving her torso contorted in a grotesque fashion, the flesh and muscle folding in upon itself in places.
I had let this happen. I had as good as desecrated my wife’s corpse by leaving her in this state, by convincing myself that a cure would be found for a plague that had long-since been eradicated by other means. I did this.
My hands move as though without instruction from my brain, raising the revolver to my eye-level, pointing at the place where my wife’s head was concealed amid that horrid mass of flesh.
Her head tilted upwards slightly, as if she was looking at me with eyes that had been long-since obscured. That muffled, teary voice sounded out from amidst the heap weighing on her shoulders. Despite myself hesitated for just a moment, savoring the shadow of a voice that I would never hear again.
“Do you love me?”
2024.05.16 03:46 New_Cardiologist2359 Terrified about being weighed at doctor’s appt tomorrow
I’m 5’4”, usually around 135-140 lbs, athletic, 28 years old. I don’t hate my body but can definitely see room for improvement, but my stamina and overall health and vibrance is better than ever. I was underweight basically until I graduated college and got in a relationship and started making money, then slowly started creeping up (at first, much needed). I also started working out, running and lifting weights, which I didn’t do as before. I’ve posted pics of myself on Reddit before and people seems incredulous about the fact that I weighed as much as I did (140 lbs when I posted) but no matter. But I think the real nightmare is soon to come, and the danger in being so close to an overweight BMI, as I’ve definitely gained weight recently. I can tell, based upon clothing fitting (tighter) and my stomach (more to pinch). And I don’t ever weigh myself, but I know I’m overweight now.
It's taking everything in my power to not cancel my appointment, to pay the cancellation fee, to dismiss my health concerns (I have been having hormonal issues, ironically when telling my friends I suspect I have PCOS they dismissed me because “You’re slim!”). I know we are Americans and have a skewed idea of weight. I know a size small and a size 4 are vanity sized. I know I project myself onto Roman statuettes imagining that my robust curvature and muscularity would be admired in an ancient age rather than seen as the sloth it represents. I dread the glaring red mark in MyChart stating my sin so clearly, without bias but throwing a flag. Overweight. Yellow exclamation point. To be assessed by doctor. Diet plans. My mother squeezing her thighs, her stomach, ”I’ll never eat again, starting tonight, I will never eat again”. 90s movies with liposuctions represented by mayonnaise and low waisted jeans fashioned on a better life. A deliberately fragile youth in the pursuit of glamour and perseverance and a project to call my own even if its a dying body, now drowned, dying still, in hedonism and joy and pleasure and why did I let myself go. BMI 25. I can already taste the number like I’ve tasted every excess calorie that I’ve allowed to pass my lips in blissful ignorance, like putting it on the credit card, I’ll deal with it later, never looking at the balance, but now the bill is due.
submitted by New_Cardiologist2359 to PetiteFitness [link] [comments]
It's taking everything in my power to not cancel my appointment, to pay the cancellation fee, to dismiss my health concerns (I have been having hormonal issues, ironically when telling my friends I suspect I have PCOS they dismissed me because “You’re slim!”). I know we are Americans and have a skewed idea of weight. I know a size small and a size 4 are vanity sized. I know I project myself onto Roman statuettes imagining that my robust curvature and muscularity would be admired in an ancient age rather than seen as the sloth it represents. I dread the glaring red mark in MyChart stating my sin so clearly, without bias but throwing a flag. Overweight. Yellow exclamation point. To be assessed by doctor. Diet plans. My mother squeezing her thighs, her stomach, ”I’ll never eat again, starting tonight, I will never eat again”. 90s movies with liposuctions represented by mayonnaise and low waisted jeans fashioned on a better life. A deliberately fragile youth in the pursuit of glamour and perseverance and a project to call my own even if its a dying body, now drowned, dying still, in hedonism and joy and pleasure and why did I let myself go. BMI 25. I can already taste the number like I’ve tasted every excess calorie that I’ve allowed to pass my lips in blissful ignorance, like putting it on the credit card, I’ll deal with it later, never looking at the balance, but now the bill is due.
2024.05.16 03:33 Mistro0o Party Planning Pro-Tips
Hey Reddit, it's your friendly neighborhood party guru here! Feeling the itch to throw a legendary get-together but stressed about the planning?
Don't sweat it, fellow redditors! Here's a breakdown to turn you from party planning newbie to bonafide bash maestro:Step 1: The Foundation (Guest List, Date, Budget)
Guest List: Who's invited? Keep it intimate or go for a blowout? Knowing the headcount helps with everything from food to furniture.Date & Time: Friday nights are classic, but consider alternatives - like a fun Sunday brunch or a laid-back afternoon shindig.
Budget: Be realistic! Factor in food, drinks, decorations (DIY is your friend!), and any entertainment.
Step 2: Setting the Scene (Theme, Food & Drinks)
Theme (Optional): A luau, murder mystery, or neon night can add a fun twist. But a well-curated playlist and ambience can set the mood too!Food & Drinks: Finger foods for mingling or a sit-down meal? Consider dietary restrictions and portion sizes. Batch cocktails are budget-friendly and crowd-pleasers.
Step 3: Deck the Halls (Decorations)
Decorations: Lights, streamers, balloons – personalize it! Hit up dollar stores or get crafty with DIY projects.Pro Tip: Repurpose what you have! String fairy lights, use throw pillows for extra seating, or hang colorful sheets for a backdrop.
Step 4: Get the Party Started (Activities & Entertainment)
Activities: Board games, karaoke, a bonfire (weather permitting) – keep it interactive!Music: Create a killer playlist that caters to different tastes. Allow guests to add requests for an extra touch.
Step 5: You're the Host with the Most (Guest Communication & Afterparty)
Guest Communication: Send out clear invites with your address and time. Let them know if it's BYOB (bring your own beverage) or potluck-style.Afterparty: Thank your guests for coming! Maybe even share some funny pics (with permission, of course).
Bonus Round: Pro-Tips for a Stellar Party
Delegate tasks: Ask a friend to help with music, or assign someone to be the grill master.
Prepare for spills: Have paper towels, napkins, and a designated cleaning station.
Relax and have fun! Your guests can sense your energy. If you're having a blast, they will too!
Let's get this party started, Reddit! Share your best party planning tips or epic party fails in the comments below!
2024.05.16 03:23 Mistro0o Party Planning Pro-Tips
 | Hey Reddit, it's your friendly neighborhood party guru here! Feeling the itch to throw a legendary get-together but stressed about the planning?Don't sweat it, fellow redditors! Here's a breakdown to turn you from party planning newbie to bonafide bash maestro:Party Step 1: The Foundation (Guest List, Date, Budget)Guest List: Who's invited? Keep it intimate or go for a blowout? Knowing the headcount helps with everything from food to furniture.Date & Time: Friday nights are classic, but consider alternatives - like a fun Sunday brunch or a laid-back afternoon shindig. Budget: Be realistic! Factor in food, drinks, decorations (DIY is your friend!), and any entertainment. Step 2: Setting the Scene (Theme, Food & Drinks)Theme (Optional): A luau, murder mystery, or neon night can add a fun twist. But a well-curated playlist and ambience can set the mood too!Food & Drinks: Finger foods for mingling or a sit-down meal? Consider dietary restrictions and portion sizes. Batch cocktails are budget-friendly and crowd-pleasers. Step 3: Deck the Halls (Decorations)Decorations: Lights, streamers, balloons – personalize it! Hit up dollar stores or get crafty with DIY projects.Pro Tip: Repurpose what you have! String fairy lights, use throw pillows for extra seating, or hang colorful sheets for a backdrop. Step 4: Get the Party Started (Activities & Entertainment)Activities: Board games, karaoke, a bonfire (weather permitting) – keep it interactive!Music: Create a killer playlist that caters to different tastes. Allow guests to add requests for an extra touch. Step 5: You're the Host with the Most (Guest Communication & Afterparty)Guest Communication: Send out clear invites with your address and time. Let them know if it's BYOB (bring your own beverage) or potluck-style.Afterparty: Thank your guests for coming! Maybe even share some funny pics (with permission, of course). Bonus Round: Pro-Tips for a Stellar Party Delegate tasks: Ask a friend to help with music, or assign someone to be the grill master. Prepare for spills: Have paper towels, napkins, and a designated cleaning station. Relax and have fun! Your guests can sense your energy. If you're having a blast, they will too! Let's get this party started, Reddit! Share your best party planning tips or epic party fails in the comments below! |
2024.05.16 02:52 ghostanchor7 Authors of Light
The voices mingled around me. Some loud, some soft, some weeping while others waited in stoic silence. The lodge anxiously waiting as the last rays of sunlight flit through the bay window. The wall of stacked cars and stone lights up like fairy lights upon a wall, revealing the weaknesses of our fragile defenses. And beyond the glass stood thousands of faces, watching the last rays of light sink beyond the horizon, beyond the walls that we called hope.
The room grew quiet. A whimper was stifled from the wall as the sun gave way to the stars. Their light poking holes in the sky like the sun had revealed our defenses flaws. A flask popped open followed by several large gulps. I can't fault you. The sword on my back grows warm and her hand touches my arm. Her long, blonde braid falls past her shoulder as she turns to me. To look at me and see me. Gosh, how can she know me so well. Her hand slides down my arm and into my shaking hand.
She brings it to her lips and tenderly kisses my knuckles, even the sunken ones. "The sun has surrendered," and pulls my hand to her chest, "you are now the light that must lead us, my love."
Her fingers interlace with mine, stealing the tremble hidden upon their tips with a squeeze. That tremble climbing up my arm to escape out of my lungs at my next breath. "We can only be hammered for so long before we have to be quenched, I guess." A small, but playfull smile breaks her somber face. She pulls me closer to her and presses her forhead to mine. In that small moment, the heat of her breath, the scent of her; from the moment she held me and handed me the star blade to now, she has been my light.
A small and stifled sob escapes her lips, for as she has by my beacon, I have tried to be her anchor. In our journey these last years, she has loved and feared, celebrated and cried, and we have grown. "You must be light that leads us." Her tears stain the dark wood at our feet and the tremble in her body transfers to me in at the touch of our skin.
"I must and I will." Raising her hands to my lips, returning the tender kiss she gave to me.
Turning to face the table before me, only a few are looking at what had been a private moment between her and I. The rest continue to look to where the light once had been. The heat on my back beckoned me, telling me what to do. To touch the pommel of the sword like the Forever King had done before. It was swift, but the rush of power flooded me at the embrace of my palm around the hammered piece of metal.
"So the night comes and we are like fresh pieces of paper watching spilt ink spread before us."
Eyes turn to me. Hone in on me. While still holding her hand, I turn to the west and the setting sun.
"This night, this darkness has had a long time coming and now we finally face it." Pointing at the last rays of sunlight that fade into twilight. In those last remnants of light, I can see the heads of thousands look around. Some in fear and some in confusion. The power continues to flood my body and I let go of the pommel of my sword.
Marching away from the table and to the wooden door of the lodge, my voice carries. "This story that has held us in our youth, in our entertainment, has now filled our very lives." The door glides open and I stride out, marching towards the eastarn wall. A few eyes around the lodge turn towards me. My arms shake themselves out of habit, releasing tension stored within.
"Now we write the last chapters of this very war," the growl surprises me, as people step aside to let me through. There are few faces that I recognize, but the ones that I do now recognize the position I hold. The star blade upon my back now emiting a soft glow. "One more story to add to the eternal narative that is sung among the stars."
More eyes, more faces turn to me as my voice reaches out to the gathered forces within our last bastion. My path is set and made clear in the divide of the people around me. Leading me towards the wall; towards the erected tower with a emerald, green flag and shining white sword flying in the wind above it.
"So let out story be a ballad, instead of paper waiting for someone else to write upon." The sky grows ever darker, and the twilight that normally sits around quickly is swallowed up by the oncoming night. Someone rings a bell, the warning bell. A haunting gong that sends shivers up and down my spine. They're here. Panicked voices fills the edges of the field as the chiming rings across the fortress. Men and woman rush to the walls, some armed with modern weaponry. Others with forged ones taking positions up along the wall.
Each step I take closer to the wall, my voice gets a little louder. "Let us sing, let us sing the song of the free." The bell chimes and my footfalls sound like a drum in my ears. "Let us shout, let us shout the darkness, make it fear our coming death." I move and pull up someone who is kneeling on the ground, tears coating their cheeks.
"Arise, Arise!" My fist bangs upon my chest.
Marching up the crude steps into the tower, my fist hammers the wall to the beat of my heart. The stone walls echoing with my voice within but reverberating across the field outside. "If destruction be our lot, we ourselves must be its author and finisher."
The glow from my sword spreads out from around me, slowling lighting up the tower. And as I march out atop of the stone building, I gaze out towards the wave of darkness rushing towards us from the west. I can hear the snarls and roars of the curse frothing towards us. The voice of darkness spreaking its inky touch across the barren landscape beyond the walls not a few minutes away.
"So let this ballad be our last ballad that we spin." I reach for the hilt of my sword and look down at the forces defending the wall. There gaze is brief but I their eyes, and their fear. But I also see their hope. "As free men, as free woman," turning to face the forces spread out below in the fortress field before me. "By our song, we will live forever!" I rip the star blade from the half-sheath on my back. "Or die by our own hand." The light beams out towards the heavens above as my words echo across the land.
The roar spreads like fire, chasing away the shadow of fear. Spear and sword slap against shields, cracking rumbling among the men and woman. Some beat upon the stone and steal around them while others beat their chest. A vicious cry of defience, a thunderous song echoing in my heart and ears as I turned to face the darkness.
And she was there. Right behind me as I turned to face the forces marching toward us. Her hands glowing in radiance as her spells weaved around us, casting down pillars of light spread out across the wall. I raise my sword high and can feel the air around me turn static. Darkness now clashes with the light as the hordes of the enemy crash and climb upon the wall. "Our story, our ballad, shall forever sing among the stars." Guns and artillary begin to fire. "But we are the authors of light!"
With a swing of my sword, bolts of lightning fire down from gathered clouds in the sky at the base of the wall.
~~~~~
-- Story Originally posted as a Prompt Inspired --
-- Original Prompt by u/GeorgeWL --
-- [WP] If destruction be our lot, we ourselves must be its author and finisher. As a nation of free men, we will live forever, or die by our own hand. --
submitted by ghostanchor7 to ghostanchor7 [link] [comments]
The room grew quiet. A whimper was stifled from the wall as the sun gave way to the stars. Their light poking holes in the sky like the sun had revealed our defenses flaws. A flask popped open followed by several large gulps. I can't fault you. The sword on my back grows warm and her hand touches my arm. Her long, blonde braid falls past her shoulder as she turns to me. To look at me and see me. Gosh, how can she know me so well. Her hand slides down my arm and into my shaking hand.
She brings it to her lips and tenderly kisses my knuckles, even the sunken ones. "The sun has surrendered," and pulls my hand to her chest, "you are now the light that must lead us, my love."
Her fingers interlace with mine, stealing the tremble hidden upon their tips with a squeeze. That tremble climbing up my arm to escape out of my lungs at my next breath. "We can only be hammered for so long before we have to be quenched, I guess." A small, but playfull smile breaks her somber face. She pulls me closer to her and presses her forhead to mine. In that small moment, the heat of her breath, the scent of her; from the moment she held me and handed me the star blade to now, she has been my light.
A small and stifled sob escapes her lips, for as she has by my beacon, I have tried to be her anchor. In our journey these last years, she has loved and feared, celebrated and cried, and we have grown. "You must be light that leads us." Her tears stain the dark wood at our feet and the tremble in her body transfers to me in at the touch of our skin.
"I must and I will." Raising her hands to my lips, returning the tender kiss she gave to me.
Turning to face the table before me, only a few are looking at what had been a private moment between her and I. The rest continue to look to where the light once had been. The heat on my back beckoned me, telling me what to do. To touch the pommel of the sword like the Forever King had done before. It was swift, but the rush of power flooded me at the embrace of my palm around the hammered piece of metal.
"So the night comes and we are like fresh pieces of paper watching spilt ink spread before us."
Eyes turn to me. Hone in on me. While still holding her hand, I turn to the west and the setting sun.
"This night, this darkness has had a long time coming and now we finally face it." Pointing at the last rays of sunlight that fade into twilight. In those last remnants of light, I can see the heads of thousands look around. Some in fear and some in confusion. The power continues to flood my body and I let go of the pommel of my sword.
Marching away from the table and to the wooden door of the lodge, my voice carries. "This story that has held us in our youth, in our entertainment, has now filled our very lives." The door glides open and I stride out, marching towards the eastarn wall. A few eyes around the lodge turn towards me. My arms shake themselves out of habit, releasing tension stored within.
"Now we write the last chapters of this very war," the growl surprises me, as people step aside to let me through. There are few faces that I recognize, but the ones that I do now recognize the position I hold. The star blade upon my back now emiting a soft glow. "One more story to add to the eternal narative that is sung among the stars."
More eyes, more faces turn to me as my voice reaches out to the gathered forces within our last bastion. My path is set and made clear in the divide of the people around me. Leading me towards the wall; towards the erected tower with a emerald, green flag and shining white sword flying in the wind above it.
"So let out story be a ballad, instead of paper waiting for someone else to write upon." The sky grows ever darker, and the twilight that normally sits around quickly is swallowed up by the oncoming night. Someone rings a bell, the warning bell. A haunting gong that sends shivers up and down my spine. They're here. Panicked voices fills the edges of the field as the chiming rings across the fortress. Men and woman rush to the walls, some armed with modern weaponry. Others with forged ones taking positions up along the wall.
Each step I take closer to the wall, my voice gets a little louder. "Let us sing, let us sing the song of the free." The bell chimes and my footfalls sound like a drum in my ears. "Let us shout, let us shout the darkness, make it fear our coming death." I move and pull up someone who is kneeling on the ground, tears coating their cheeks.
"Arise, Arise!" My fist bangs upon my chest.
Marching up the crude steps into the tower, my fist hammers the wall to the beat of my heart. The stone walls echoing with my voice within but reverberating across the field outside. "If destruction be our lot, we ourselves must be its author and finisher."
The glow from my sword spreads out from around me, slowling lighting up the tower. And as I march out atop of the stone building, I gaze out towards the wave of darkness rushing towards us from the west. I can hear the snarls and roars of the curse frothing towards us. The voice of darkness spreaking its inky touch across the barren landscape beyond the walls not a few minutes away.
"So let this ballad be our last ballad that we spin." I reach for the hilt of my sword and look down at the forces defending the wall. There gaze is brief but I their eyes, and their fear. But I also see their hope. "As free men, as free woman," turning to face the forces spread out below in the fortress field before me. "By our song, we will live forever!" I rip the star blade from the half-sheath on my back. "Or die by our own hand." The light beams out towards the heavens above as my words echo across the land.
The roar spreads like fire, chasing away the shadow of fear. Spear and sword slap against shields, cracking rumbling among the men and woman. Some beat upon the stone and steal around them while others beat their chest. A vicious cry of defience, a thunderous song echoing in my heart and ears as I turned to face the darkness.
And she was there. Right behind me as I turned to face the forces marching toward us. Her hands glowing in radiance as her spells weaved around us, casting down pillars of light spread out across the wall. I raise my sword high and can feel the air around me turn static. Darkness now clashes with the light as the hordes of the enemy crash and climb upon the wall. "Our story, our ballad, shall forever sing among the stars." Guns and artillary begin to fire. "But we are the authors of light!"
With a swing of my sword, bolts of lightning fire down from gathered clouds in the sky at the base of the wall.
~~~~~
-- Story Originally posted as a Prompt Inspired --
-- Original Prompt by u/GeorgeWL --
-- [WP] If destruction be our lot, we ourselves must be its author and finisher. As a nation of free men, we will live forever, or die by our own hand. --
2024.05.16 02:51 Ralts_Bloodthorne Nova Wars - Chapter 62
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
"Leave the sleeping dragons lie in peace" is a lesson that seemingly has to be taught to every wannabe conqueror over and over again.
Time after time, there will be a few idiots who only see the dragon's hoard, its cult of followers, and ignore the piles of rusted, slagged, calcified, scorched remains of every moron who tried before them. They see all of this and think "I can beat it to submission and take everything it has."
And then the dragon wakes up, and more smoldering remains are added to the scorched scrap heap.
And the Malevolent Universe grins in the darkness, and increases the "Dead morons who should have known better" counter by one. Then, waits for the next contestant. - u/Matt_Bradock, Terran Philosopher, Age of Paranoia, TerraSol
initiating data stream
your name is Dhruv-661391
you were purchased for the same price as a moderately priced luxury vehicle
She knows the dead. She is of the dead. She is the keeper and guardian of the dead. Life, death and the feasting of swarms all are one within her. She knows where once-dead things were laid to rest and where the deathless still dream in their unliving slumber. She knows where the hungry dead have roamed the universe's fields, and where they still roam them unburied, and why no one remembers them as they tread. - The Fifth Horseman, First Terran Imperium, "Meditations Upon Immortals"
you were created to serve
What we tell ourselves, what we tell others, and what actually happened, are often three different things.
And sometimes four. - Unknown, Age of Paranoia, TerraSol
your name is Dhruv
and your brain was once smooth
Captain N'Skrek checked his datalink.
The deep data storage was still at work bringing up information on "Legion" and "Sacajawea". The older databases of the Gray Lady had data at the ready, but it was sparse.
Two of the Biological Apostles of the Digital Omnimessiah, a figure of myth and legend.
Yet, they sat across from him.
They were talking back and forth in a language that the computer's linguistic database had no record of and stubbornly resisted any attempt to decipher it.
What N'Skrek did hear was several words that he recognized.
Daxin the Unfeeling. Daxin Freeborn. Chromium Saint Peter. Enraged Phillip. Matthias the Elder. Matthias the Younger. Kibuka. Kalki. Gravity.
A litany that left data scrolling down the empty space just beyond the edge of his peripheral vision.
Daxin "The Walking War Crime" Freeborn.
NavInt and MilInt were projecting with an 80% certainty (adjusted downward for unknown probabilities) that the beings in front of him were from that long bygone era.
Finally Captain N'Skrek cleared his throat.
The bald one, Legion, turned to look at the gathered staff officers.
"My apologies. I was catching my sister up on what has transpired since she disappeared," Legion said, smiling gently. He nodded. "You probably have questions."
N'Skrek nodded back. "The biggest one is: how did you..." he thought for a second. "Why did you..." no, that wouldn't work. "What bring about..."
Legion smiled.
"How did I replace all of your clones and why?" he asked. "Why is it that if you print off too many identical clones I show up?"
N'Skrek nodded. "Yes."
Legion looked at the Terran officers and smiled wider. It was a cruel smile, reminding N'Skrek of a hook pointed knife that had been sharpened to a keen edge.
"You didn't tell them? Have you really forgotten about me?" he asked.
"It was assumed to be still prevented by the cloning systems," Vice-Admiral Breakheader stated slowly. "We have only recently been restored ourselves. Less than two months time."
Legion just smiled.
Vice-Admiral Breakheader turned to look at Captain N'Skrek. "Running off too many identical clones causes Legion to manifest. It's why we use the Born Whole system, it ensures they have different brains, different expriences, and they have a slight variation to pore and retinal patterns, hair growth, minor things like that. Otherwise, Legion manifests."
"Why?" N'Skrek asked.
The Vice-Admiral sat silently for a moment before replying. "Because," was all he said.
Legion's smile didn't leave his face.
"Because it is my nature," he said.
Sacajawea said something and Legion replied in the same language, then turned to N'Skrek.
"My sister does not know why she was rebirthed," he said. He looked at her and spoke rapidly. She answered, only a few words, which made Legion reply at length. Again, only a few words.
"It must have been important," N'Skrek interrupted.
"She states that she does not know why the Immortals system did not rebirth her when she died," Legion said. He glanced at her. "She tells me that she died, with her people, when her peaceful planet was attacked."
"By the Mar-gite?" N'Skrek asked.
Again, more conversation.
"Yes," Legion answered. He frowned as she spoke again. "She says they were a peaceful planet. Anarcho-Primitivism. Very little technology. The Mar-gite attacked without warning."
She spoke rapidly and Legion listened.
N'Skrek saw the computer still was not able to parse the language, even though it could build a lexicon of off very little data for almost any other language it encountered.
Legion turned and faced N'Skrek. "She states that she believes it was the fact that some of her people demanded that high technology be left in place in order to allow the six planets her people had settled to remain in contact. That the high tech farming and sustenance industries led the Mar-gite to attack her."
Again, Sacajawea spoke, her head lifted, looking down at Legion.
"Why she was not reborn is unknown to her. She had guided and shepherded her people for thousands of years before the outsiders came. Outsiders drawn by technology, by the abandonment of the old ways," Legion said. He was frowning as he spoke rapidly.
The conversation took a few minutes.
"She said the outsiders came and wiped her people out after entire generations held them off. That in the final battle, they overcame her when her strength failed," Legion said. There was more talking. "She's describing the Mar-gite."
"Where was this?" N'Skrek asked, bringing up a map of the galaxy. "The First Mar-gite War was only three hundred years prior to the Council-Confederacy Conflict and lasted nearly a hundred years," the brought up a sketchy timeline of the era. "When did you encounter the Mar-gite and where?"
Sacajawea spoke again at length. Legion spoke back. It grew heated for a moment before Legion looked at N'Skrek.
"She will not say. She does not want us to defile or desecrate the worlds her people settled. She does not want us to know when or where," he said.
"That might be pertinent information," N'Skrek said. "Important information to keep the Mar-gite from overwhelming the Cygnus-Orion Spur."
Sacajawea spoke quickly, heatedly, half standing up. Legion put his hand on her shoulder, obviously encouraging her to sit down, but she shrugged, throwing off Legion's hand, and her speech got more heated, her eyes flashing with anger.
"She says she will not reveal her people's resting place for us to dig up the graves and desecrate them. That it is not anyone's business where The People have gone or what The People have done," Legion said. He turned and answered her.
The conversation got heated as the N'Skrek and the officers watched.
Finally, Sacajawea stood up and turned around, folding her arms across her chest, lifting her chin.
Legion's skin darkened with anger.
"Then you can tell them that load of bullshit yourself, little sister," he snapped.
He suddenly vanished in a swirl of black powder that evaporated.
N'Skrek saw that Sacajawea was shocked by Legion's disappearance. She stood there for a long moment.
"Dhruv?" she asked mid-air.
N'Skrek motioned his officers to stay silent.
"Dhruv?" she snapped, stomping one foot.
Still silence.
"Luke!' she half-shouted, stamping her foot again.
She turned and looked at the gathered staff officers, who were all staring at her.
"Legion?" she asked quietly.
N'Skrek held up one bladearm.
"It appears, Miss, that you will have to speak for yourself."
Sacajawea frowned and clamped her lips together.
N'Skrek just stared mildly.
your name was tiffany
0-0-0-0-0
your name was dhruv
you were created to serve the deshmuhk family
you were a gardener and a menial
but you have risen above that
Jaskel had just gotten a plate of food and sat down in one corner of the cavernous Dining Bay Twenty-Three.
True, it was a little bit of a walk from the Telkan Marine section to that particular dining facility, but for some reason Jaskel liked the food put out by Nutriforge-Eight better than any of the others.
Like the Gunny always said, it was the little things that count.
He had arranged his silverware, his drink, and given a short prayer when he suddenly wasn't alone.
A slender man in an unfamiliar uniform suddenly appeared at one of the tables on the far side of the Dining Bay. Jaskel watched as two more stepped out of the first. They all sat down and started talking rapidly.
To Jaskel, it sounded like an argument.
It looked like one person arguing with himself.
Jaskel ate quietly and slowly, trying to avoid attracting attention, but watching the Terran out of the corner of his eye.
Terrans were universally half-crazy.
And a Terran arguing with clones of himself was probably full blown crazy.
That, and Jaskel remembered how negligent the display of power had been that had left him hanging upside down in mid-air.
Much to the amusement of his squad mates who watched the video and laughed.
He was down to dessert when the far door opened and a woman entered. Jaskel recognized her instantly as the young adult Terran woman who had appeared nude from the cloning banks, even though she was clad in clothing made of brown material and decorated with beads.
She immediately made a bee-line for the man, who had gotten a plate with a piece of pie on it while the other two argued between each other.
She stopped and stomped on foot, staring down at the sitting man.
"You look stupid," the man, Legion, said when she stopped next to him.
"Dhruv," she snapped. She rattled off words that Jaskel's datalink couldn't translate.
"Not talking to you until you speak Confederate Standard. I know you know it," Legion/Dhruv stated.
She stomped her foot again. "Luke!" she snapped.
Legion looked up. "Part of me, a large part of me, feels that you lost the right to call me by that name."
He went back to eating the pie. When the woman looked at the two clones who were staring at her, they stared back for a moment then puffed into black dust that swirled and vanished.
Jaskel kept watching out of the corner of his eye.
"Dhruv," she snapped.
"Go away, Sacajawea," Legion said.
She stood there for a moment. Then she suddenly leaned forward and slapped the plate of pie away from Legion.
"I will not call you Legion," she suddenly said as the plate clattered against the far bulkhead.
"Go away," Legion said. He looked up. "Let me put it in a way you might understand better: I just want left alone."
The woman stepped back, one hand going to her mouth.
"Yeah, still scared of him, aren't you," Legion said. He stood up. "Or are you?" he moved so he was clear of the table. "Were you ever afraid of him, Sacajawea, or was it all an act?"
Sacajawea looked away. "He was everything wrong with the world, a living reminder of what kind of men destroyed my people."
Legion suddenly laughed. "You forget history, little sister. But, of course, you never had any use for history unless it served your own ends."
Sacajawea stomped her foot. "Dhruv, be nice."
"No," Legion said, his voice low and intent. "I have yet to hear you thank me for what I did in the cloning bay, much less what I did for you before you ran off and left me holding the bag."
your name was luke
remember remember
your name was luke
"I came back to find Matthias the Elder standing over the sundered murdered code of the Digital Omnimessiah," Legion said. "Then Daxin showed up, Matthias claimed I killed our Digital Father, so I ran."
"And he followed. Intent on killing you," Sacajawea sniffed.
"Yes!' Legion said. "Of course he did! I would have chased me in that situation," Legion said. He stepped forward. "And where were you, Little Sister, when it happened?"
She looked away and sniffed. "I was performing my duty, serving my people. As you well know."
Legion turned around, facing away from her. "Yeah, the people you had me bake up," he turned back around. "Not the poor bastards fighting a slowly losing war against the Mantid. They were your people too, but you left them behind. If it wasn't for the Mechakrautlanders, they'd be extinct with the rest of humanity."
"They had set aside the old ways. I told you that," Sacajawea said. She gave a sniff and turned her head away. "They were too consumed by blood lust, they would not stop fighting, would not embrace the old ways."
"EVERYONE WAS FIGHTING!" Legion shouted in a voice that made Jaskel's drink glass rattle. "There were hab-kids fighting and dying in destroyed hab-blocks in the ruins of megalopolises. It had nothing to do with 'the old ways', it was a fight for survival."
"You would not understand," Sacajawea said. She gave another sniff, still looking away. "I took my people away from where technology and the abandonment of the ways of our people had led us."
Legion stood still for a second.
"Don't give me that shit about your 'people', remember, I touched you. I know the truth," Legion said. He shook his head. "You had a task. A task to help us, help our Digital Father, help all of humanity, but you abandoned it."
"I had a task to help my people," Sacajawea sniffed. "I owed nothing to the world that stood aside or actively took part while my people were destroyed," she looked at Legion. "You wouldn't understand."
Jaskel could see purple electricity snarling around Legion's boots, clawing at the deckplates with thread-thick fingers.
"You were supposed to guide us along the path to the SUDS, so we could save everyone, Sacajawea," Legion said. "You betrayed us. Betrayed them. You were supposed to save them."
"Like they saved my people, Luke?" Sacajawea asked.
"You don't call me that any more, little sister," Legion said. "For the love of the Detainee, fucking let go of shit that doesn't matter any more. We humans have been genocided repeatedly since then."
"I'm not calling you Legion. That reeks of arrogance and pride," Sacajawea said. "And it matters to me, Luke."
"You talk a lot of shit for someone named Bird Woman," Legion snapped back. "How about I call you Tiffany?"
Sacajawea took a step back. "That is not my name. That was never my true name."
"You forget. I could see under that skin job. See who you were born as. I knew the truth, and I've kept it secret for all these eons," Legion said. He turned away. "You left us, left humanity behind on your so-called quest."
He turned back to face her.
"Now, again, we're facing extinction. The Mar-gite, they wiped you out. Now they're here in overwhelming force to the point where I'm not even sure Fortress Sol can hold them off," Legion said. "And you still want to play pretend."
He turned his back on her.
"You're no different than Matthias the Elder," Legion said quietly.
There was a dreadful silence for a long moment.
"I told Daxin, sitting in the parking garage where we used to meet, that we had to let go of the past. Learn from it, admit it happened, but we had to let it all go. The old hatreds, the old angers, the old rage," Legion said softly. "He agreed. He said perhaps it was time for us to leave the mortals behind. Let them go without us dragging baggage from worlds and events dead and gone behind us."
Sacajawea sniffed. "It's different for the two of you, neither one of you had your people..."
"I was a short bake slave clone, Tiffany," Legion said, his voice still soft and quiet. "Just like your family owned."
Sacajawea opened her mouth to answer, her eyes flashing hotly.
"One of millions grown in a vat every year. Made in humanity's image but without its grace," Legion's voice was nearly a whisper. "Our little band of siblings, only Kalki, Gravity, and Daxin came from families that did not order one of me from an online catalogue. Even Bellona lived with my people performing menial labor for her colony."
Sacajawea stepped forward, obviously about to deliver a scathing retort.
"But my people didn't count, did we, Tiffany?" Legion asked. He gave a deep sigh. "I loved you, you know."
Her mouth closed. She looked confused.
"When you left, I created another of you," Legion said quietly. "She was, of course, captured by the Imperium, like all of the Biological Apostles," he looked down at the floor. "It was why they didn't know you'd escaped."
Jaskel wished he was anywhere but in the dining bay.
"Eventually, that version of you threw off the Imperium's chains like we did. She went back to Terra. Worked tirelessly to rebuild. Eventually, led the Dandelion Fleet that became the Sky Nebula Alignment."
It was silent except for the muted sounds a starship under power in Transit Space made.
"I'll go back with you. Translate for you," Legion said, his voice still soft. He turned to face the woman.
"Just... just stop lying, Tiffany," he said.
He was silent a moment.
"I had hoped that it was that version, my version, the version I had been madly in love with, that version of you that had been rebirthed," he said. "The version who guided her people, who succored them, who helped them rebuild, who helped them thrive in the scarred and shattered world Earth had become. I had hoped, when I saw you, that you were her."
the buzzing can still be heard
your name is legion
"But it's just you."
0-0-0-0-0
Captain N'Skrek watched as Legion led Sacajawea into the briefing room.
He had been busy looking up every scrap of information on the Digital Omnimessiah, the Biological Apostles, Legion, and Sacajawea.
Of all of them, information was scarcest, almost non-existent, on Sacajawea.
He waited as the Terran woman took a drink from the glass in front of her.
She looked around.
"During the Human-Mantid War, before the destruction of the Overqueen by the forces of MechaKrautland, before the Liberation of Terra," she started. She closed her eyes, sighed, and opened them. "I begged Vat Grown Luke, who you know as Legion, to clone my people and help me repair and then hijack four colony transports crashed in the Middle Kingdom."
She looked down and Legion reached over and took her hand. She looked startled for a moment, squeezed Legion's hand gently, and looked back up.
"I led my people away. From the Imperium, from Terra, from the War," she said. She reached out and touched the holo-emitter, bringing up a map of the Milky Way. She touched a single arm.
"I led them here. For over eight thousand years my people knew peace, prosperity, and plenty," she said. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled sharply.
N'Skrek recognized it as a sign of stress in Terrans.
"Roughly twelve hundred Terran Standard Years prior to the Council-Confederacy Conflict, we were attacked," she said. She looked down. "I had sworn to protect my people, to use my powers to protect my people, which had grown to fill six worlds."
She looked back up.
"The Mar-gite destroyed my people in under a decade," she said. She looked down again. "And me with them."
"A glitch in the system prevented her from moving to Afterlife or being rebirthed," Legion said. "A glitch I had caused when I helped her."
"The Mar-gite destroyed my people here," Sacajawea said, her voice filled with pain.
A single cluster of six stars burned brightly.
Deep in the Scutum-Crux Arm.
your name is legion
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
submitted by Ralts_Bloodthorne to HFY [link] [comments]
"Leave the sleeping dragons lie in peace" is a lesson that seemingly has to be taught to every wannabe conqueror over and over again.
Time after time, there will be a few idiots who only see the dragon's hoard, its cult of followers, and ignore the piles of rusted, slagged, calcified, scorched remains of every moron who tried before them. They see all of this and think "I can beat it to submission and take everything it has."
And then the dragon wakes up, and more smoldering remains are added to the scorched scrap heap.
And the Malevolent Universe grins in the darkness, and increases the "Dead morons who should have known better" counter by one. Then, waits for the next contestant. - u/Matt_Bradock, Terran Philosopher, Age of Paranoia, TerraSol
initiating data stream
your name is Dhruv-661391
you were purchased for the same price as a moderately priced luxury vehicle
She knows the dead. She is of the dead. She is the keeper and guardian of the dead. Life, death and the feasting of swarms all are one within her. She knows where once-dead things were laid to rest and where the deathless still dream in their unliving slumber. She knows where the hungry dead have roamed the universe's fields, and where they still roam them unburied, and why no one remembers them as they tread. - The Fifth Horseman, First Terran Imperium, "Meditations Upon Immortals"
you were created to serve
What we tell ourselves, what we tell others, and what actually happened, are often three different things.
And sometimes four. - Unknown, Age of Paranoia, TerraSol
your name is Dhruv
and your brain was once smooth
Captain N'Skrek checked his datalink.
The deep data storage was still at work bringing up information on "Legion" and "Sacajawea". The older databases of the Gray Lady had data at the ready, but it was sparse.
Two of the Biological Apostles of the Digital Omnimessiah, a figure of myth and legend.
Yet, they sat across from him.
They were talking back and forth in a language that the computer's linguistic database had no record of and stubbornly resisted any attempt to decipher it.
What N'Skrek did hear was several words that he recognized.
Daxin the Unfeeling. Daxin Freeborn. Chromium Saint Peter. Enraged Phillip. Matthias the Elder. Matthias the Younger. Kibuka. Kalki. Gravity.
A litany that left data scrolling down the empty space just beyond the edge of his peripheral vision.
Daxin "The Walking War Crime" Freeborn.
NavInt and MilInt were projecting with an 80% certainty (adjusted downward for unknown probabilities) that the beings in front of him were from that long bygone era.
Finally Captain N'Skrek cleared his throat.
The bald one, Legion, turned to look at the gathered staff officers.
"My apologies. I was catching my sister up on what has transpired since she disappeared," Legion said, smiling gently. He nodded. "You probably have questions."
N'Skrek nodded back. "The biggest one is: how did you..." he thought for a second. "Why did you..." no, that wouldn't work. "What bring about..."
Legion smiled.
"How did I replace all of your clones and why?" he asked. "Why is it that if you print off too many identical clones I show up?"
N'Skrek nodded. "Yes."
Legion looked at the Terran officers and smiled wider. It was a cruel smile, reminding N'Skrek of a hook pointed knife that had been sharpened to a keen edge.
"You didn't tell them? Have you really forgotten about me?" he asked.
"It was assumed to be still prevented by the cloning systems," Vice-Admiral Breakheader stated slowly. "We have only recently been restored ourselves. Less than two months time."
Legion just smiled.
Vice-Admiral Breakheader turned to look at Captain N'Skrek. "Running off too many identical clones causes Legion to manifest. It's why we use the Born Whole system, it ensures they have different brains, different expriences, and they have a slight variation to pore and retinal patterns, hair growth, minor things like that. Otherwise, Legion manifests."
"Why?" N'Skrek asked.
The Vice-Admiral sat silently for a moment before replying. "Because," was all he said.
Legion's smile didn't leave his face.
"Because it is my nature," he said.
Sacajawea said something and Legion replied in the same language, then turned to N'Skrek.
"My sister does not know why she was rebirthed," he said. He looked at her and spoke rapidly. She answered, only a few words, which made Legion reply at length. Again, only a few words.
"It must have been important," N'Skrek interrupted.
"She states that she does not know why the Immortals system did not rebirth her when she died," Legion said. He glanced at her. "She tells me that she died, with her people, when her peaceful planet was attacked."
"By the Mar-gite?" N'Skrek asked.
Again, more conversation.
"Yes," Legion answered. He frowned as she spoke again. "She says they were a peaceful planet. Anarcho-Primitivism. Very little technology. The Mar-gite attacked without warning."
She spoke rapidly and Legion listened.
N'Skrek saw the computer still was not able to parse the language, even though it could build a lexicon of off very little data for almost any other language it encountered.
Legion turned and faced N'Skrek. "She states that she believes it was the fact that some of her people demanded that high technology be left in place in order to allow the six planets her people had settled to remain in contact. That the high tech farming and sustenance industries led the Mar-gite to attack her."
Again, Sacajawea spoke, her head lifted, looking down at Legion.
"Why she was not reborn is unknown to her. She had guided and shepherded her people for thousands of years before the outsiders came. Outsiders drawn by technology, by the abandonment of the old ways," Legion said. He was frowning as he spoke rapidly.
The conversation took a few minutes.
"She said the outsiders came and wiped her people out after entire generations held them off. That in the final battle, they overcame her when her strength failed," Legion said. There was more talking. "She's describing the Mar-gite."
"Where was this?" N'Skrek asked, bringing up a map of the galaxy. "The First Mar-gite War was only three hundred years prior to the Council-Confederacy Conflict and lasted nearly a hundred years," the brought up a sketchy timeline of the era. "When did you encounter the Mar-gite and where?"
Sacajawea spoke again at length. Legion spoke back. It grew heated for a moment before Legion looked at N'Skrek.
"She will not say. She does not want us to defile or desecrate the worlds her people settled. She does not want us to know when or where," he said.
"That might be pertinent information," N'Skrek said. "Important information to keep the Mar-gite from overwhelming the Cygnus-Orion Spur."
Sacajawea spoke quickly, heatedly, half standing up. Legion put his hand on her shoulder, obviously encouraging her to sit down, but she shrugged, throwing off Legion's hand, and her speech got more heated, her eyes flashing with anger.
"She says she will not reveal her people's resting place for us to dig up the graves and desecrate them. That it is not anyone's business where The People have gone or what The People have done," Legion said. He turned and answered her.
The conversation got heated as the N'Skrek and the officers watched.
Finally, Sacajawea stood up and turned around, folding her arms across her chest, lifting her chin.
Legion's skin darkened with anger.
"Then you can tell them that load of bullshit yourself, little sister," he snapped.
He suddenly vanished in a swirl of black powder that evaporated.
N'Skrek saw that Sacajawea was shocked by Legion's disappearance. She stood there for a long moment.
"Dhruv?" she asked mid-air.
N'Skrek motioned his officers to stay silent.
"Dhruv?" she snapped, stomping one foot.
Still silence.
"Luke!' she half-shouted, stamping her foot again.
She turned and looked at the gathered staff officers, who were all staring at her.
"Legion?" she asked quietly.
N'Skrek held up one bladearm.
"It appears, Miss, that you will have to speak for yourself."
Sacajawea frowned and clamped her lips together.
N'Skrek just stared mildly.
your name was tiffany
0-0-0-0-0
your name was dhruv
you were created to serve the deshmuhk family
you were a gardener and a menial
but you have risen above that
Jaskel had just gotten a plate of food and sat down in one corner of the cavernous Dining Bay Twenty-Three.
True, it was a little bit of a walk from the Telkan Marine section to that particular dining facility, but for some reason Jaskel liked the food put out by Nutriforge-Eight better than any of the others.
Like the Gunny always said, it was the little things that count.
He had arranged his silverware, his drink, and given a short prayer when he suddenly wasn't alone.
A slender man in an unfamiliar uniform suddenly appeared at one of the tables on the far side of the Dining Bay. Jaskel watched as two more stepped out of the first. They all sat down and started talking rapidly.
To Jaskel, it sounded like an argument.
It looked like one person arguing with himself.
Jaskel ate quietly and slowly, trying to avoid attracting attention, but watching the Terran out of the corner of his eye.
Terrans were universally half-crazy.
And a Terran arguing with clones of himself was probably full blown crazy.
That, and Jaskel remembered how negligent the display of power had been that had left him hanging upside down in mid-air.
Much to the amusement of his squad mates who watched the video and laughed.
He was down to dessert when the far door opened and a woman entered. Jaskel recognized her instantly as the young adult Terran woman who had appeared nude from the cloning banks, even though she was clad in clothing made of brown material and decorated with beads.
She immediately made a bee-line for the man, who had gotten a plate with a piece of pie on it while the other two argued between each other.
She stopped and stomped on foot, staring down at the sitting man.
"You look stupid," the man, Legion, said when she stopped next to him.
"Dhruv," she snapped. She rattled off words that Jaskel's datalink couldn't translate.
"Not talking to you until you speak Confederate Standard. I know you know it," Legion/Dhruv stated.
She stomped her foot again. "Luke!" she snapped.
Legion looked up. "Part of me, a large part of me, feels that you lost the right to call me by that name."
He went back to eating the pie. When the woman looked at the two clones who were staring at her, they stared back for a moment then puffed into black dust that swirled and vanished.
Jaskel kept watching out of the corner of his eye.
"Dhruv," she snapped.
"Go away, Sacajawea," Legion said.
She stood there for a moment. Then she suddenly leaned forward and slapped the plate of pie away from Legion.
"I will not call you Legion," she suddenly said as the plate clattered against the far bulkhead.
"Go away," Legion said. He looked up. "Let me put it in a way you might understand better: I just want left alone."
The woman stepped back, one hand going to her mouth.
"Yeah, still scared of him, aren't you," Legion said. He stood up. "Or are you?" he moved so he was clear of the table. "Were you ever afraid of him, Sacajawea, or was it all an act?"
Sacajawea looked away. "He was everything wrong with the world, a living reminder of what kind of men destroyed my people."
Legion suddenly laughed. "You forget history, little sister. But, of course, you never had any use for history unless it served your own ends."
Sacajawea stomped her foot. "Dhruv, be nice."
"No," Legion said, his voice low and intent. "I have yet to hear you thank me for what I did in the cloning bay, much less what I did for you before you ran off and left me holding the bag."
your name was luke
remember remember
your name was luke
"I came back to find Matthias the Elder standing over the sundered murdered code of the Digital Omnimessiah," Legion said. "Then Daxin showed up, Matthias claimed I killed our Digital Father, so I ran."
"And he followed. Intent on killing you," Sacajawea sniffed.
"Yes!' Legion said. "Of course he did! I would have chased me in that situation," Legion said. He stepped forward. "And where were you, Little Sister, when it happened?"
She looked away and sniffed. "I was performing my duty, serving my people. As you well know."
Legion turned around, facing away from her. "Yeah, the people you had me bake up," he turned back around. "Not the poor bastards fighting a slowly losing war against the Mantid. They were your people too, but you left them behind. If it wasn't for the Mechakrautlanders, they'd be extinct with the rest of humanity."
"They had set aside the old ways. I told you that," Sacajawea said. She gave a sniff and turned her head away. "They were too consumed by blood lust, they would not stop fighting, would not embrace the old ways."
"EVERYONE WAS FIGHTING!" Legion shouted in a voice that made Jaskel's drink glass rattle. "There were hab-kids fighting and dying in destroyed hab-blocks in the ruins of megalopolises. It had nothing to do with 'the old ways', it was a fight for survival."
"You would not understand," Sacajawea said. She gave another sniff, still looking away. "I took my people away from where technology and the abandonment of the ways of our people had led us."
Legion stood still for a second.
"Don't give me that shit about your 'people', remember, I touched you. I know the truth," Legion said. He shook his head. "You had a task. A task to help us, help our Digital Father, help all of humanity, but you abandoned it."
"I had a task to help my people," Sacajawea sniffed. "I owed nothing to the world that stood aside or actively took part while my people were destroyed," she looked at Legion. "You wouldn't understand."
Jaskel could see purple electricity snarling around Legion's boots, clawing at the deckplates with thread-thick fingers.
"You were supposed to guide us along the path to the SUDS, so we could save everyone, Sacajawea," Legion said. "You betrayed us. Betrayed them. You were supposed to save them."
"Like they saved my people, Luke?" Sacajawea asked.
"You don't call me that any more, little sister," Legion said. "For the love of the Detainee, fucking let go of shit that doesn't matter any more. We humans have been genocided repeatedly since then."
"I'm not calling you Legion. That reeks of arrogance and pride," Sacajawea said. "And it matters to me, Luke."
"You talk a lot of shit for someone named Bird Woman," Legion snapped back. "How about I call you Tiffany?"
Sacajawea took a step back. "That is not my name. That was never my true name."
"You forget. I could see under that skin job. See who you were born as. I knew the truth, and I've kept it secret for all these eons," Legion said. He turned away. "You left us, left humanity behind on your so-called quest."
He turned back to face her.
"Now, again, we're facing extinction. The Mar-gite, they wiped you out. Now they're here in overwhelming force to the point where I'm not even sure Fortress Sol can hold them off," Legion said. "And you still want to play pretend."
He turned his back on her.
"You're no different than Matthias the Elder," Legion said quietly.
There was a dreadful silence for a long moment.
"I told Daxin, sitting in the parking garage where we used to meet, that we had to let go of the past. Learn from it, admit it happened, but we had to let it all go. The old hatreds, the old angers, the old rage," Legion said softly. "He agreed. He said perhaps it was time for us to leave the mortals behind. Let them go without us dragging baggage from worlds and events dead and gone behind us."
Sacajawea sniffed. "It's different for the two of you, neither one of you had your people..."
"I was a short bake slave clone, Tiffany," Legion said, his voice still soft and quiet. "Just like your family owned."
Sacajawea opened her mouth to answer, her eyes flashing hotly.
"One of millions grown in a vat every year. Made in humanity's image but without its grace," Legion's voice was nearly a whisper. "Our little band of siblings, only Kalki, Gravity, and Daxin came from families that did not order one of me from an online catalogue. Even Bellona lived with my people performing menial labor for her colony."
Sacajawea stepped forward, obviously about to deliver a scathing retort.
"But my people didn't count, did we, Tiffany?" Legion asked. He gave a deep sigh. "I loved you, you know."
Her mouth closed. She looked confused.
"When you left, I created another of you," Legion said quietly. "She was, of course, captured by the Imperium, like all of the Biological Apostles," he looked down at the floor. "It was why they didn't know you'd escaped."
Jaskel wished he was anywhere but in the dining bay.
"Eventually, that version of you threw off the Imperium's chains like we did. She went back to Terra. Worked tirelessly to rebuild. Eventually, led the Dandelion Fleet that became the Sky Nebula Alignment."
It was silent except for the muted sounds a starship under power in Transit Space made.
"I'll go back with you. Translate for you," Legion said, his voice still soft. He turned to face the woman.
"Just... just stop lying, Tiffany," he said.
He was silent a moment.
"I had hoped that it was that version, my version, the version I had been madly in love with, that version of you that had been rebirthed," he said. "The version who guided her people, who succored them, who helped them rebuild, who helped them thrive in the scarred and shattered world Earth had become. I had hoped, when I saw you, that you were her."
the buzzing can still be heard
your name is legion
"But it's just you."
0-0-0-0-0
Captain N'Skrek watched as Legion led Sacajawea into the briefing room.
He had been busy looking up every scrap of information on the Digital Omnimessiah, the Biological Apostles, Legion, and Sacajawea.
Of all of them, information was scarcest, almost non-existent, on Sacajawea.
He waited as the Terran woman took a drink from the glass in front of her.
She looked around.
"During the Human-Mantid War, before the destruction of the Overqueen by the forces of MechaKrautland, before the Liberation of Terra," she started. She closed her eyes, sighed, and opened them. "I begged Vat Grown Luke, who you know as Legion, to clone my people and help me repair and then hijack four colony transports crashed in the Middle Kingdom."
She looked down and Legion reached over and took her hand. She looked startled for a moment, squeezed Legion's hand gently, and looked back up.
"I led my people away. From the Imperium, from Terra, from the War," she said. She reached out and touched the holo-emitter, bringing up a map of the Milky Way. She touched a single arm.
"I led them here. For over eight thousand years my people knew peace, prosperity, and plenty," she said. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled sharply.
N'Skrek recognized it as a sign of stress in Terrans.
"Roughly twelve hundred Terran Standard Years prior to the Council-Confederacy Conflict, we were attacked," she said. She looked down. "I had sworn to protect my people, to use my powers to protect my people, which had grown to fill six worlds."
She looked back up.
"The Mar-gite destroyed my people in under a decade," she said. She looked down again. "And me with them."
"A glitch in the system prevented her from moving to Afterlife or being rebirthed," Legion said. "A glitch I had caused when I helped her."
"The Mar-gite destroyed my people here," Sacajawea said, her voice filled with pain.
A single cluster of six stars burned brightly.
Deep in the Scutum-Crux Arm.
your name is legion
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2024.05.16 02:40 firefighter_raven Last Charge of the Roanoke
The Terran Union Heavy Cruiser, Roanoke, had spent the last 6 months raiding Naalx supply lines in the Flores sector.
They were finally returning to Terran Space for some much-needed refit and some R&R. But first, they were stopping at the Bateri space station orbiting Emsar IV.
She would be meeting a Terran Union squadron to escort her prizes back to the Couster system. 4 freighters, a massive ore hauler, and a damaged Naalx corvette that answered a distress call sooner than expected.
The Roanoke was one of the new Grenville class heavy cruisers, faster and more heavily armed than the other heavy cruiser classes operating as part of a Terran Union fleet.
They were designed as solo raiders able to operate deep in enemy space, raiding enemy supply lines and facilities.
Their design included several newly developed systems, including a new style of radiator for dumping excess heat.
At 500 m long and painted black as night, she was very intimidating to see on visual screens and even more so at close range. Her CrCoNi (chromium, cobalt, and nickel) hull was covered in 12” of ablative armor covered in a black laser-resistant material able to reduce the effectiveness of enemy sensors and target locks.
The experimental Baxter radiators efficiently released excess heat into space but still left them exposed to radiation detection sensors.
Captain Josef Král had been hand-picked to command the Roanoke when she came into service 18 months ago. He was a popular officer with 20 years of combat experience on just about every ship in the Terran Union’s navy.
He’d also provided technical assistance during its design phase so his familiarity with the ship made him the best choice for putting the ship through her paces. This would be the very first voyage behind enemy lines as a raider.
And it’d been a rousing success, hitting targets deep in Naalx space as reprisal for Naalxian raids on Terran border colonies. The First Naalx-Terran war had devastated both species and left them vulnerable to outside forces. The war wasn’t won so much as winding down to a series of raids and counter-raiding. A gentleman’s agreement to prevent raids and border skirmishes from turning into another full-scale war and the earlier consequences.
And Captain Král was very good at approaching that line in the sand without going over it. Several centuries earlier he’d have been a Privateer sailing the oceans on Earth.
This even led to the revival of the old pirate movies of the 20th century but Captain Král preferred likening it to the submarine warfare of the first half of the 20th century. That didn’t stop his crew from giving him a robot parrot.
He claims to hate it but everyone knows he’s been teaching it his extensive vocabulary of curse words, in dozens of languages, that he loved it.
And if you call him out on him walking around with it on his shoulder, he’ll claim he was just humoring the crew.
Captain Král was relieved to see the Terran squadron had arrived before him and ordered his little fleet to dock. It would be good to be able to get off the ship and move around without weapons.
As Captain Král exited the ship, he was surprised to see Commodore Allen waiting for him. It’d been several years since he last saw his friend and previous XO. Taking his prerogative as a Captain, he skipped the formalities, shook hands, and gave Commodore Allen a friendly slap on the back.
“Mike? What the hell are you doing here? This is escort job is for a Lt. to do” He asked
“I was in the neighborhood and volunteered. I wanted to see this new ship of yours and it’s been too long since we got a drink together.” Mike replied
Captain Král took a glance back to his ship and wasn’t surprised to see his current XO, Lt. Commander Nana Ricci had the resupply well in hand.
With a big grin, Captain Král said, “Let me see to my guests and we can see if we can scandalize the ratings like we used to.”
Captain Král approached the waiting station manager. The Bateri bowed in the formal greeting of her people. Not having the tentacles needed to return the bow, he just saluted her.
“Greetings Captain Král of the Terrans, how may we be of service?” The Bateri asked.
“Greetings Ananu of the Bateri. We request the use of your services,” he replied, finishing the ritual greeting.
“I see you returned successful in your raiding,” Ananu said, “How many bunks will you need?”
Unsurprised that the Bateri knew his mission, he replied “ 72 bunks with 3 more for your med bay, if you have the room.”
One of the most important functions provided by the Bateri was allowing for the return of captives taken in raids. This helped to keep things calmer by freely releasing captives to limit the amount of bad blood created during the raids and conflicts.
Crates of supplies, ammo, missiles, and the various other things needed to keep the ship functioning were being transferred from the smaller Terran ships. With her weapon complement being only slightly smaller than a battleship, she could go through a lot of ammunition. Even without being in serious combat, he liked to run frequent gunnery drills. Some Captains would just let their tactical computers handle operating the weapon systems and just have the gunnery crews handle reloads. But some hard lessons taught him that having the gunnery crews able to take direct control, as needed, was essential. He preferred to use up as much ammunition as needed during training to save lives later in combat.
Seeing everything in hand, he walked back to join his friend for a drink. They caught up on the doings of old friends and Mike’s family, toasts to fallen comrades, and eventually to the Roanoke.
‘How did she operate on her first long-range mission?” Mike asked
Taking a moment to organize his thoughts, Captain Král took a sip of his drink. “She handled better than expected. The new engine behaved itself, surprising for being just off the drawing board, the Baxters were damn efficient.”
Taking another sip before continuing, “ We didn’t use the torpedoes or the turreted railguns in combat but the rest performed as expected. That Corvette didn’t stand a chance so we didn’t get a full test of all the combat systems.”
“Going by the number of munitions I brought with me, you’d think I was resupplying a battleship” Mike joked
“Just about,” Captain Král chuckled. “During the design phase, I had to argue for such an increase of armament.” “It seemed to take forever for them to get it through their thick skulls that we’d be out there all alone and couldn’t call for reinforcements.” “So I convinced them to put the 2 particle beam systems in the bow of the ship and give me the 4 torpedo tubes. They had no problem with the pair at the bow but they couldn’t figure out why I wanted a pair aft. I swear I thought about launching them out of a tube.”
“At least they were starting to get it when I up-gunned the turrets to carry two large railguns. They did get upset at wanting to put on a turret in the middle of the ventral side but were relieved I left the other turret on the dorsal side ahead of the command structures”
Commodore Allen asked,” From the glimpse I got as you docked, it looked like you doubled the usual weapon systems?”
“She still has them 10 secondary batteries but I went with dual medium railguns for them” Captain Král replied, “ I put 4 of the quad-mounted autocannons on each side of the ship.”
“ It should let us save wear and tear on the railguns when we catch unarmed ships or against incoming fighters.”
“ I understand and it also saves on missiles, which with 4 heavy and 8 medium is a lot of missiles to carry.” Commodore Allen replied.
“I’ve also heard you were running tests on a more powerful deflector array to do more than just protect against radiation and small debris. Like maybe actual shields that would work on anything smaller than a battleship?”
“Yeah but not with any success,” Captain Král answered, “Anytime we tried to go past the standard low-power output, it played hell with our sensors.”
It was at that moment when Captain Král’s wrist communicator beeped for his attention.
“Just a second Mike,” he said as he keyed the communicator. “ Král, go ahead”
The sound of Lt. Commander Ricci’s voice came through the speaker, “ Priority message from the bridge Captain.”
“ What is the message?” Captain Král asked, not liking the way Ricci’s voice sounded worried
“ Sensor buoy reports large Naalx fleet dropping out of FTL, 2 million km out,” Ricci reported
Commodore Allen gave Captain Král the same concerned look that he was sure was on his face. “How many?” The captain asked
Ricci hesitated for a moment before answering “37 ships with more arriving every couple of minutes.”
Commodore Allen swore
Captain Král looked at his friend, “How long until you get your crews and get out of here?”
Commodore Allen thought for a moment, “ Maybe 20 minutes at the minimum.”
Captain Král muttered to himself, “They’ll be here before that.”
Both men got up, signaled to any of their personnel in the bar, and started out the door. “I’ll buy you the time but I’ll need to undock as soon as I get aboard my ship, maybe I can catch them off-guard. “ Captain Král
Commodore Allen replied, “That’s a suicide mission, there are too many for one ship to handle”
“Yeah, I know, old friend but if I don’t then we all die.” Captain Král explained, “ Do me a favor, I’m going to send you my non-essential personnel, take them and those still on the station with you. Get them home.”
Reaching the hatch to the docking bay, both men stopped to shake hands. “Of course, Josef.” Commodore Allen replied, “But if anyone can find a way out of it, it’s you, my friend.”
After a final salute, both men parted ways to reach their ship. As Captain Král jogged down the docking bay, he sent orders for Ricci to send all non-essential personnel to Commodore Allen and asked if they had sufficient hands to man all combat stations.
Ricci’s reply reassured him, “ Aye Sir, most of the crew on the station are from the 2nd watch, and the few people from the first watch are non-essential.”
“Be ready to launch as soon as I get aboard.” He ordered.
He passed several members of his crew, en route to join Commodore Allen. He stopped to return their salute. At the disappointed look in their eyes, he told them. “I know you don’t want to leave the ship but the Commodore needs some real sailors to get out on time. You know how those logistic guys are. They’ll get lost trying to find their own bridge”
That look reassured them and after a final salute, they headed down the dock to join Commodore Allen
Captain Král reached the cargo ramp and started up it, calling Ricci and telling her to shove off and he’d be on the bridge shortly.
He sprinted down the corridor, leaping over the lower lips of the vacuum-tight doors.
“Captain on the Bridge!” rang out from one of the bridge techs. Aside from the guards and his XO, the rest of the bridge crew kept working. Nodding his approval at their knowing when to discard ceremony for action. He walked over toward his console before speaking.
“What do we have, Lt. Commander?”
Turning to face him, Captain Král could see just how worried she was. “Current count is 48 ships.” Touching the console’s keys to bring up a list of ships before continuing, “ 18 capital ships and a mix of sub-caps, still trying to ID them.”
“They’re just maintaining position for now.” Ricci finished, her voice slightly puzzled.
“They’re waiting for something or someone,” Captain Král answered the unasked question.
“How many crew did we leave behind?”
“641, Sir” the XO replied
“ Helm, are we clear of the station's shielding?”
“Almost Sir,” The helmsman answered.
“Thank you.” Captain Král returned.
Turning to another tech, he said, “Sound Battlestations”
“Sir,” one of his sensor techs spoke up, “We have 2 more ships arriving.”
“ Thank you, Ensign.” Captain Král returned
“What class are they?” Lt Commander Ricci asked
After looking at her monitor again the tech replied, “1 heavy cruiser and something much bigger, waiting for the computer to ID it.”
Captain Král moved to look over the tech’s shoulder before standing up and facing his XO.
“Fleet Command Ship” he informed the tech and his XO.
Lt. Commander Ricci replied, “What the hell is one doing out here?”
“Good Question.” he answered, “And now that the players are on the field, the game can begin.”
Bringing up the sensor information to his console, Captain Král pointed at the enemy fleet. “They haven’t begun to deploy into battle formation yet.”
“That could be our chance.” Raising his head to look at his XO. “If we jump now we can land close and surprise them. After we land, we drive into the center of their formation and head for that big bastard.” He explained
“But Sir, We haven’t fully tested the jump drive!” the XO exclaimed
“No time like the present, “ Captain Král joked
“We’ll let the railguns and autocannon crews pick targets of opportunity, while we engage the command ship with our particle cannons, heavy railguns, and torpedoes,” he stated
“What about its point defense system, won’t it pick off the torps?” the XO asked
“We’re going to launch all the Hammerheads at it. It should overwhelm the system and let the torps through.” He answered before continuing, “I’m going to save the heavy missiles for now.”
“You’ll need to calculate the launch time of the Hammerheads to hit the point defense system as close to the time for the torpedoes to sneak through.” he ordered, “ But not so far they take out the Hammerheads too soon and let them hit the torps but not so close they set them off either.”
Looking at his XO, “You better get down to tactical Nana, this is going to get ugly, and it’s best we split up.” Captain Král commanded
Exchanging salutes, Ricci simply replied “Aye Sir.” and started for the hatch. Just before stepping through, she turned and said, “Good Luck, Sir.
“What’s the status of the Commodore’s squad?” Captain Král asked
One of his communication techs spoke up, “ They need 10 more minutes”
“Let me know the minute they are clear.” Captain Král ordered
Captain Král turned to comms tech and ordered, “Intraship comms if you please ensign”
“Aye sir” the tech replied before turning to his console and speaking into the mic,” Now hear this, Now hear this. Message from the Captain.”
“ Well folks, this isn’t the fight I wanted but this is the fight we got” Captain Král started
“ I’m sure you’ve heard scuttlebutt about the situation but here it is. We are facing a superior force numbering 49 ships. And we need to give the Commodore’s squadron time to go to FTL and get the hell out of here.” he paused before continuing, “ The plan is to mix it up with the enemy at close range. They aren’t in battle formation yet so we can hurt them.”
“Good luck and let’s make them regret fucking with the Roanoke.”
The sounds of cheers came back over the speakers.
“Helm, are we clear of the station shielding?” the Captain asked
At the affirmative given by the helmsmen, he just nodded
Touching a button on his console, he asked, “Are you in place XO?”
“Aye Sir.” the Lt. Commander replied
“ As soon as we land, be ready to open up with the dual and quad mounts.” He ordered
The XO replied with an affirmative.
“Helm, at my command, jump between 25-50 km to the starboard of the fleet.”
“As soon as we land, hard to port and get us in the middle of them. Be ready for rapid maneuvers, maybe we can throw off their laser battery tracking systems. Might let us survive a little longer” Captain Král ordered. “Aye Sir” the helmsman replied
Taking a quick look around to make sure his crew was ready, he turned back to wait for the signal the jump drive was ready.
At the signal, he ordered “Jump”
He felt the ship lurch forward and shudder. It took less than 5 seconds to jump from the station to within the targeted range, but it felt like forever.
And then they were less than 5 km from an enemy battleship.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed the helmsman and steered to avoid it. Captain Král hid a moment of panic with a joke, “ Someone make note that the jump drive targeting system needs work.”
His joke brought a chuckle from his crew and got them back to focus on the taste.
Stabbing a button on his console, he ordered “XO, fire secondary batteries,”
There was nothing to see or hear from the massive volleys of the secondary batteries coming to life. But he knew the gun crews were already raining devastation on enemy warships. “Helm, Hard to Port!” he ordered, not tearing his view away from the main viewscreen.
Captain Král looked at his console at the images sent to the bridge from the various gun cameras.
He could see the flashes of light from projectiles hitting their shields. He watched as other high-velocity projectiles punched through their hulls. He could just make out the impact of the explosive-tipped slugs fired by the autocannons.
Captain Král turned back to the main viewscreen. “Hard to starboard!”
“Head for that big son of a bitch!” he ordered
The Naalx were slow to respond but they began to return fire with some trying to gain some distance to clear the line of fire of other ships. The helmsman’s evasive maneuvers were also giving the enemy’s gunners fits from repeated misses.
But the damage sensors on the armor told of an increasing number of hits as the Naalx began to respond in an organized manner. The resistance coating reduced the damage from the Naalx laser batteries but didn’t completely nullify it. “Helm, get me a clear shot at the command ship.” the Captain ordered
A bright flash to starboard marked the death of an enemy cruiser. Status reports listed 2 sub-capitals holed and venting atmosphere. Dead or damaged, they were out of the fight.
One capital ship was dead in space with another missing its bow.
5 down too damn many to go The captain muttered
He watched and waited, ignoring damage alarms and the occasional shudder as shots began to get through the armor and explosively decompress a compartment when they penetrated the hull.
He finally saw what he wanted, an unobstructed line of fire to the command ship.
His finger smashed down on the console button. “ XO, Launch Torpedoes. Take the gloves off the main batteries. Drop the hammer!”
He watched the glitter of the particle beams as they bridged the gap between the Roanoke and the Naalx ship. In a moment, he caught sight of the torpedoes' thrusters as they left the tubes and picked up momentum. Holes and brief explosions marked the impact of his weapons. But the sheer volume of Naalxian fire was beginning to take its toll. The armor was failing or had failed in over a dozen spots. 3 autocannon and 1 railgun mount were out of commission.
2 minutes after they launched the torpedoes, the sight of more than 100 Hammerhead missiles was marked by the flare of their drives. Another volley of Hammerheads was launched the moment new missiles were lifted into the racks.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, hold off on another volley for hammerheads.”
Checking his console, “Launch Shrikes at targets of opportunity with no shields, rear tubes target enemy capital ships and hope those torpedoes get through.” he ordered.
Multiple small explosions let him know the point defense systems were taking on the Hammerheads. And a moment later, a pair of massive explosions told him the nuclear-tipped torpedoes had hit their target.
“Captain, The Commodore’s squadron has escaped.” one of his techs announced.
“Thank you,” he answered
“Distance to command ship?” he asked
“ 250 km Sir” was the reply
“Helm, continue advancing on the command ship and pass her on our port side. We’ll give her a broadside and go to FTL after we clear.”
A tech from the damage control position spoke up, “Captain! FTL is down and jump drive is destroyed”
“Ahh hell’ cried the Captain.
“Damage report!” he ordered
“ Ventral turret destroyed, railgun mounts 2 and 5 destroyed, mount 9 damaged but functional. Autocannon mounts 11,13, 23 and 25 destroyed. Hammerhead launchers 3 and 8 destroyed.” The tech checked the screen before continuing, “ Explosive decompressions on decks 3 and 5. Explosive decompression in Med Bay. Ablative armor badly damaged and penetrated in around 20 spots. Engine #3 is down. Power unstable in many areas of the ship”
“FTL down, engineering needs an hour to fix. The jump drive is destroyed. Long-range comms are down” The tech finished.
“Casualty reports!” Captain Král ordered
A different tech replied, “249 dead, roughly 800 wounded with 327 too injured to fight.”
“Thank you.” he returned. Doing the math in his head he had just over 1300 combat effective and 482 of those were his Marines, the other 18 were left behind.
After thinking a moment, “Helm, same course as before but since we can’t go to FTL, circle to the aft of the command ship and lessen the incoming fire for the moment”
Looking over to the comms tech, “ Get me the chief engineer on the horn.”
Tapping the switch on the console, he called down to tactical. “ XO, I’m taking us around to the aft of the command ship and play peek-a-boo.”
“We’ll pass on her port side and I want a broadside from all batteries that can hit it and launch half the Shrikes we have left at it.”
“After we get to their rear, target enemy aft batteries, I want them all hunks of twisted metal.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir.” Lt. Commander Ricci replied. “Ammo count update Sir.”
“Go ahead,” he replied
“Only the two forward tubes are loaded, aft tubes empty, railgun and autocannon are down to 30%. Dorsal turret is at 10% but they are working on transferring surviving ammo from the Ventral turret.
We can launch 4 more full racks of Shrikes and 5+ Hammerheads.” She finished
“Understood. Thank you” Captain Král replied
“Captain, Chief Engineer on the line” a tech relayed
“Route it to my console,” he ordered
“ I need you to place charges on the computer core, all the experimental equipment, engines, and fire suppression control. If we go down, I don’t want them getting a damn thing but blood and pain.”
“Aye Sir.” The Chief replied.
Captain Král turned back to watch as the Roanoke passed the command ship to port. He watched as massive explosions rippled across the enemy flank and dorsal surface. They were too close for the point defense to pick off the majority of the Shrikes.
As the Roanoke got behind and slightly below the enemy command ship, she slowed and allowed her surviving batteries to silence the command ship's aft batteries.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, fire half our remaining hammerheads into her engines.”
“Affirmative,” replied the XO
Captain Král watched as the hammerheads impacted the command ship’s engines and saw the thrust nozzles dim as the engines went offline. The enemy batteries stopped firing and she began to drift.
“Helm, get us 500 km from the command ship and line up to fire our last 2 avalanche torpedoes.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir, 500km bow towards the enemy” the helmsman repeated
The Captain called down to tactical ” Nana, We’re positioning the ship to line up the front tubes and we’re going to kill that bastard. Stay on the line and fire on my order.”
“Aye Sir, we’re ready.” The XO answered
“Helm?” Captain Král asked
“ 3 seconds Captain.” the helmsman replied
Captain Král watched and as soon as he got the angle he wanted, “Fire Torpedoes!” he commanded
The whole bridge crew watched and waited for the impact. Both torpedoes struck amidships and tore massive holes in the hull. As they watched, lines of explosions traveled across the hull and began to rip the ship in half. The bridge crew let out a yell and the rest of the ship after the Captain had the information broadcast over the intercom.
“ Helm, get us the hell out of here. Maybe we can outrun the bigger ships and buy time to fix the FTL.” Captain Král ordered
But before the helmsman could act, there was a massive jolt.
“What the hell?” he yelled
A tech answered, “ We were rammed by a Naalx cruiser and several smaller ships are closing in.“
But instead of ramming the Roanoke, they launched breeching pods.
His finger stabbed down to open the intercom. “ All hands, Prepare to Repel Boarders! Security teams, tactical will relay their access position. “ He ordered
He pulled out his sidearm and checked that it was ready. Several other techs did the same, while his security detachment moved to defensive positions to watch the hatch.
“Target those pods!” Captain Král ordered but he didn’t need to say it, his gunnery crews were on it. Here and there a brief flash of light marked the destruction of a pod.
“XO, fire all remaining missiles. Pick your targets,” he commanded “All batteries, open fire.”
He left the tac net open to track the status of the enemy boarding parties.
He listened to the cacophony of noises coming over the tac net.
“Security team alpha to section 7, level 3. Bravo team section 2 level 1, Charlie team section 12, level 5” Lt. Commander Ricci ordered.
“There’s too many, fall back to position 2…” an unidentified voice ordered
Another voice firmly stated, “Hold your ground, nothing gets past us.”
“Theta team down, a handful of Naalx heading for engineering!” a panicked voice exclaimed
And dozens of others just like it, always with the sound of combat in the background.
“Captain, more breaching pods en route!” a tech exclaimed
“Get me the Chief Engineer!” the Captain ordered
At the Chief Engineer’s response, he ordered “Detonate all sabotage charges except the main computer. Set that one on a manual trigger at my console with a 20-minute timer as a backup. And then set the reactors to overload, we’re not going to hold the ship much longer. And set a charge to breach the hull and decompress Engineering as soon as you are clear”
“Affirmative, Captain. She was a good ship” the Chief replied
Turning to his bridge crew, “Give the order to abandon ship. Have all the pods head for the station.”
The Captain called tactical, “Lt. Commander Ricci, all hands abandon ship. Get as many of them home as you can.”
“ I understand, Sir.” She answered, “I’ll see you at the station.” she said hopefully
“I'm afraid not, Nana. I’m the Captain and I’m going down with my ship.” he stated, “And someone needs to make sure they can’t shut down the overload.”
“Transfer all fire controls to my station and get the hell out of here.”
“Aye Sir, It’s been an honor” the XO replied
“The honor is all mine. You are going to make an excellent Captain. Goodbye my friend” Captain Král finished.
His bridge crew tried to convince him to go with them but he declined and ordered security to get them into the escape pods.
Then he sat and watched as his consoles began reporting each pod as it launched. He also kept an eye on his sensors and concentrated fire on any Naalx ship that was moving to intercept the pods. They knew better than to fire on them but nothing said they couldn’t capture them.
He also prepared a probe with all the ship logs and combat data and fired it toward human-held territory. It would run silently until it exited the system and then begin broadcasting a coded signal for pickup.
He was dismayed at how few pods had left the ship and regretted so many young lives had been cut short.
As he saw the last pod clear the battlefield, he sat back for a moment and then triggered the charge on the main computer.
A hard pounding came from the other side of the hatchway. But there wasn’t enough power to open it. He guessed the pinging on the door was them firing their lasers and trying to blast it open.
He wondered if it would work but a huge rumble, a bright flash, interrupted, and the long career of Captain Král was finally over.
News of the Roanoke’s final battle flashed across news channels on hundreds of worlds. Her courageous and foolhardy charge at a superior force. The damage she did to the Naalx fleet before her destruction. How, of the 1859 members of the crew that went into the battle, only 108 survived.
The videos taken from both sides during the battle played over and over again.
How the Naalx picked up all the escape pods and released them on the station immediately.
And even recovered the bodies of any human they found while gathering their dead.
Naalx losses were the command ship, 2 capital ships, 9 sub-capitals destroyed, and a dozen other vessels damaged in one form or another. Naalx casualties were over 50,000 dead
Only the Naalx’s immense respect for courage, audacity, and bravery in the face of danger kept the skirmish from blowing up into a war.
The Naalx rendered full military honors as they turned the Human dead over to Lt. Commander Ricci.
The Captain Král, A Grenville-class cruiser, was launched 2 years later. Captain Nana Ricci in command.
Authors note- I hope you enjoyed this story. It's based on a historical event. Which according to an idiot on youtube is plagiarism.
If you feel like leaving a tip https://ko-fi.com/tomcarey
submitted by firefighter_raven to HFY [link] [comments]
They were finally returning to Terran Space for some much-needed refit and some R&R. But first, they were stopping at the Bateri space station orbiting Emsar IV.
She would be meeting a Terran Union squadron to escort her prizes back to the Couster system. 4 freighters, a massive ore hauler, and a damaged Naalx corvette that answered a distress call sooner than expected.
The Roanoke was one of the new Grenville class heavy cruisers, faster and more heavily armed than the other heavy cruiser classes operating as part of a Terran Union fleet.
They were designed as solo raiders able to operate deep in enemy space, raiding enemy supply lines and facilities.
Their design included several newly developed systems, including a new style of radiator for dumping excess heat.
At 500 m long and painted black as night, she was very intimidating to see on visual screens and even more so at close range. Her CrCoNi (chromium, cobalt, and nickel) hull was covered in 12” of ablative armor covered in a black laser-resistant material able to reduce the effectiveness of enemy sensors and target locks.
The experimental Baxter radiators efficiently released excess heat into space but still left them exposed to radiation detection sensors.
Captain Josef Král had been hand-picked to command the Roanoke when she came into service 18 months ago. He was a popular officer with 20 years of combat experience on just about every ship in the Terran Union’s navy.
He’d also provided technical assistance during its design phase so his familiarity with the ship made him the best choice for putting the ship through her paces. This would be the very first voyage behind enemy lines as a raider.
And it’d been a rousing success, hitting targets deep in Naalx space as reprisal for Naalxian raids on Terran border colonies. The First Naalx-Terran war had devastated both species and left them vulnerable to outside forces. The war wasn’t won so much as winding down to a series of raids and counter-raiding. A gentleman’s agreement to prevent raids and border skirmishes from turning into another full-scale war and the earlier consequences.
And Captain Král was very good at approaching that line in the sand without going over it. Several centuries earlier he’d have been a Privateer sailing the oceans on Earth.
This even led to the revival of the old pirate movies of the 20th century but Captain Král preferred likening it to the submarine warfare of the first half of the 20th century. That didn’t stop his crew from giving him a robot parrot.
He claims to hate it but everyone knows he’s been teaching it his extensive vocabulary of curse words, in dozens of languages, that he loved it.
And if you call him out on him walking around with it on his shoulder, he’ll claim he was just humoring the crew.
Captain Král was relieved to see the Terran squadron had arrived before him and ordered his little fleet to dock. It would be good to be able to get off the ship and move around without weapons.
As Captain Král exited the ship, he was surprised to see Commodore Allen waiting for him. It’d been several years since he last saw his friend and previous XO. Taking his prerogative as a Captain, he skipped the formalities, shook hands, and gave Commodore Allen a friendly slap on the back.
“Mike? What the hell are you doing here? This is escort job is for a Lt. to do” He asked
“I was in the neighborhood and volunteered. I wanted to see this new ship of yours and it’s been too long since we got a drink together.” Mike replied
Captain Král took a glance back to his ship and wasn’t surprised to see his current XO, Lt. Commander Nana Ricci had the resupply well in hand.
With a big grin, Captain Král said, “Let me see to my guests and we can see if we can scandalize the ratings like we used to.”
Captain Král approached the waiting station manager. The Bateri bowed in the formal greeting of her people. Not having the tentacles needed to return the bow, he just saluted her.
“Greetings Captain Král of the Terrans, how may we be of service?” The Bateri asked.
“Greetings Ananu of the Bateri. We request the use of your services,” he replied, finishing the ritual greeting.
“I see you returned successful in your raiding,” Ananu said, “How many bunks will you need?”
Unsurprised that the Bateri knew his mission, he replied “ 72 bunks with 3 more for your med bay, if you have the room.”
One of the most important functions provided by the Bateri was allowing for the return of captives taken in raids. This helped to keep things calmer by freely releasing captives to limit the amount of bad blood created during the raids and conflicts.
Crates of supplies, ammo, missiles, and the various other things needed to keep the ship functioning were being transferred from the smaller Terran ships. With her weapon complement being only slightly smaller than a battleship, she could go through a lot of ammunition. Even without being in serious combat, he liked to run frequent gunnery drills. Some Captains would just let their tactical computers handle operating the weapon systems and just have the gunnery crews handle reloads. But some hard lessons taught him that having the gunnery crews able to take direct control, as needed, was essential. He preferred to use up as much ammunition as needed during training to save lives later in combat.
Seeing everything in hand, he walked back to join his friend for a drink. They caught up on the doings of old friends and Mike’s family, toasts to fallen comrades, and eventually to the Roanoke.
‘How did she operate on her first long-range mission?” Mike asked
Taking a moment to organize his thoughts, Captain Král took a sip of his drink. “She handled better than expected. The new engine behaved itself, surprising for being just off the drawing board, the Baxters were damn efficient.”
Taking another sip before continuing, “ We didn’t use the torpedoes or the turreted railguns in combat but the rest performed as expected. That Corvette didn’t stand a chance so we didn’t get a full test of all the combat systems.”
“Going by the number of munitions I brought with me, you’d think I was resupplying a battleship” Mike joked
“Just about,” Captain Král chuckled. “During the design phase, I had to argue for such an increase of armament.” “It seemed to take forever for them to get it through their thick skulls that we’d be out there all alone and couldn’t call for reinforcements.” “So I convinced them to put the 2 particle beam systems in the bow of the ship and give me the 4 torpedo tubes. They had no problem with the pair at the bow but they couldn’t figure out why I wanted a pair aft. I swear I thought about launching them out of a tube.”
“At least they were starting to get it when I up-gunned the turrets to carry two large railguns. They did get upset at wanting to put on a turret in the middle of the ventral side but were relieved I left the other turret on the dorsal side ahead of the command structures”
Commodore Allen asked,” From the glimpse I got as you docked, it looked like you doubled the usual weapon systems?”
“She still has them 10 secondary batteries but I went with dual medium railguns for them” Captain Král replied, “ I put 4 of the quad-mounted autocannons on each side of the ship.”
“ It should let us save wear and tear on the railguns when we catch unarmed ships or against incoming fighters.”
“ I understand and it also saves on missiles, which with 4 heavy and 8 medium is a lot of missiles to carry.” Commodore Allen replied.
“I’ve also heard you were running tests on a more powerful deflector array to do more than just protect against radiation and small debris. Like maybe actual shields that would work on anything smaller than a battleship?”
“Yeah but not with any success,” Captain Král answered, “Anytime we tried to go past the standard low-power output, it played hell with our sensors.”
It was at that moment when Captain Král’s wrist communicator beeped for his attention.
“Just a second Mike,” he said as he keyed the communicator. “ Král, go ahead”
The sound of Lt. Commander Ricci’s voice came through the speaker, “ Priority message from the bridge Captain.”
“ What is the message?” Captain Král asked, not liking the way Ricci’s voice sounded worried
“ Sensor buoy reports large Naalx fleet dropping out of FTL, 2 million km out,” Ricci reported
Commodore Allen gave Captain Král the same concerned look that he was sure was on his face. “How many?” The captain asked
Ricci hesitated for a moment before answering “37 ships with more arriving every couple of minutes.”
Commodore Allen swore
Captain Král looked at his friend, “How long until you get your crews and get out of here?”
Commodore Allen thought for a moment, “ Maybe 20 minutes at the minimum.”
Captain Král muttered to himself, “They’ll be here before that.”
Both men got up, signaled to any of their personnel in the bar, and started out the door. “I’ll buy you the time but I’ll need to undock as soon as I get aboard my ship, maybe I can catch them off-guard. “ Captain Král
Commodore Allen replied, “That’s a suicide mission, there are too many for one ship to handle”
“Yeah, I know, old friend but if I don’t then we all die.” Captain Král explained, “ Do me a favor, I’m going to send you my non-essential personnel, take them and those still on the station with you. Get them home.”
Reaching the hatch to the docking bay, both men stopped to shake hands. “Of course, Josef.” Commodore Allen replied, “But if anyone can find a way out of it, it’s you, my friend.”
After a final salute, both men parted ways to reach their ship. As Captain Král jogged down the docking bay, he sent orders for Ricci to send all non-essential personnel to Commodore Allen and asked if they had sufficient hands to man all combat stations.
Ricci’s reply reassured him, “ Aye Sir, most of the crew on the station are from the 2nd watch, and the few people from the first watch are non-essential.”
“Be ready to launch as soon as I get aboard.” He ordered.
He passed several members of his crew, en route to join Commodore Allen. He stopped to return their salute. At the disappointed look in their eyes, he told them. “I know you don’t want to leave the ship but the Commodore needs some real sailors to get out on time. You know how those logistic guys are. They’ll get lost trying to find their own bridge”
That look reassured them and after a final salute, they headed down the dock to join Commodore Allen
Captain Král reached the cargo ramp and started up it, calling Ricci and telling her to shove off and he’d be on the bridge shortly.
He sprinted down the corridor, leaping over the lower lips of the vacuum-tight doors.
“Captain on the Bridge!” rang out from one of the bridge techs. Aside from the guards and his XO, the rest of the bridge crew kept working. Nodding his approval at their knowing when to discard ceremony for action. He walked over toward his console before speaking.
“What do we have, Lt. Commander?”
Turning to face him, Captain Král could see just how worried she was. “Current count is 48 ships.” Touching the console’s keys to bring up a list of ships before continuing, “ 18 capital ships and a mix of sub-caps, still trying to ID them.”
“They’re just maintaining position for now.” Ricci finished, her voice slightly puzzled.
“They’re waiting for something or someone,” Captain Král answered the unasked question.
“How many crew did we leave behind?”
“641, Sir” the XO replied
“ Helm, are we clear of the station's shielding?”
“Almost Sir,” The helmsman answered.
“Thank you.” Captain Král returned.
Turning to another tech, he said, “Sound Battlestations”
“Sir,” one of his sensor techs spoke up, “We have 2 more ships arriving.”
“ Thank you, Ensign.” Captain Král returned
“What class are they?” Lt Commander Ricci asked
After looking at her monitor again the tech replied, “1 heavy cruiser and something much bigger, waiting for the computer to ID it.”
Captain Král moved to look over the tech’s shoulder before standing up and facing his XO.
“Fleet Command Ship” he informed the tech and his XO.
Lt. Commander Ricci replied, “What the hell is one doing out here?”
“Good Question.” he answered, “And now that the players are on the field, the game can begin.”
Bringing up the sensor information to his console, Captain Král pointed at the enemy fleet. “They haven’t begun to deploy into battle formation yet.”
“That could be our chance.” Raising his head to look at his XO. “If we jump now we can land close and surprise them. After we land, we drive into the center of their formation and head for that big bastard.” He explained
“But Sir, We haven’t fully tested the jump drive!” the XO exclaimed
“No time like the present, “ Captain Král joked
“We’ll let the railguns and autocannon crews pick targets of opportunity, while we engage the command ship with our particle cannons, heavy railguns, and torpedoes,” he stated
“What about its point defense system, won’t it pick off the torps?” the XO asked
“We’re going to launch all the Hammerheads at it. It should overwhelm the system and let the torps through.” He answered before continuing, “I’m going to save the heavy missiles for now.”
“You’ll need to calculate the launch time of the Hammerheads to hit the point defense system as close to the time for the torpedoes to sneak through.” he ordered, “ But not so far they take out the Hammerheads too soon and let them hit the torps but not so close they set them off either.”
Looking at his XO, “You better get down to tactical Nana, this is going to get ugly, and it’s best we split up.” Captain Král commanded
Exchanging salutes, Ricci simply replied “Aye Sir.” and started for the hatch. Just before stepping through, she turned and said, “Good Luck, Sir.
“What’s the status of the Commodore’s squad?” Captain Král asked
One of his communication techs spoke up, “ They need 10 more minutes”
“Let me know the minute they are clear.” Captain Král ordered
Captain Král turned to comms tech and ordered, “Intraship comms if you please ensign”
“Aye sir” the tech replied before turning to his console and speaking into the mic,” Now hear this, Now hear this. Message from the Captain.”
“ Well folks, this isn’t the fight I wanted but this is the fight we got” Captain Král started
“ I’m sure you’ve heard scuttlebutt about the situation but here it is. We are facing a superior force numbering 49 ships. And we need to give the Commodore’s squadron time to go to FTL and get the hell out of here.” he paused before continuing, “ The plan is to mix it up with the enemy at close range. They aren’t in battle formation yet so we can hurt them.”
“Good luck and let’s make them regret fucking with the Roanoke.”
The sounds of cheers came back over the speakers.
“Helm, are we clear of the station shielding?” the Captain asked
At the affirmative given by the helmsmen, he just nodded
Touching a button on his console, he asked, “Are you in place XO?”
“Aye Sir.” the Lt. Commander replied
“ As soon as we land, be ready to open up with the dual and quad mounts.” He ordered
The XO replied with an affirmative.
“Helm, at my command, jump between 25-50 km to the starboard of the fleet.”
“As soon as we land, hard to port and get us in the middle of them. Be ready for rapid maneuvers, maybe we can throw off their laser battery tracking systems. Might let us survive a little longer” Captain Král ordered. “Aye Sir” the helmsman replied
Taking a quick look around to make sure his crew was ready, he turned back to wait for the signal the jump drive was ready.
At the signal, he ordered “Jump”
He felt the ship lurch forward and shudder. It took less than 5 seconds to jump from the station to within the targeted range, but it felt like forever.
And then they were less than 5 km from an enemy battleship.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed the helmsman and steered to avoid it. Captain Král hid a moment of panic with a joke, “ Someone make note that the jump drive targeting system needs work.”
His joke brought a chuckle from his crew and got them back to focus on the taste.
Stabbing a button on his console, he ordered “XO, fire secondary batteries,”
There was nothing to see or hear from the massive volleys of the secondary batteries coming to life. But he knew the gun crews were already raining devastation on enemy warships. “Helm, Hard to Port!” he ordered, not tearing his view away from the main viewscreen.
Captain Král looked at his console at the images sent to the bridge from the various gun cameras.
He could see the flashes of light from projectiles hitting their shields. He watched as other high-velocity projectiles punched through their hulls. He could just make out the impact of the explosive-tipped slugs fired by the autocannons.
Captain Král turned back to the main viewscreen. “Hard to starboard!”
“Head for that big son of a bitch!” he ordered
The Naalx were slow to respond but they began to return fire with some trying to gain some distance to clear the line of fire of other ships. The helmsman’s evasive maneuvers were also giving the enemy’s gunners fits from repeated misses.
But the damage sensors on the armor told of an increasing number of hits as the Naalx began to respond in an organized manner. The resistance coating reduced the damage from the Naalx laser batteries but didn’t completely nullify it. “Helm, get me a clear shot at the command ship.” the Captain ordered
A bright flash to starboard marked the death of an enemy cruiser. Status reports listed 2 sub-capitals holed and venting atmosphere. Dead or damaged, they were out of the fight.
One capital ship was dead in space with another missing its bow.
5 down too damn many to go The captain muttered
He watched and waited, ignoring damage alarms and the occasional shudder as shots began to get through the armor and explosively decompress a compartment when they penetrated the hull.
He finally saw what he wanted, an unobstructed line of fire to the command ship.
His finger smashed down on the console button. “ XO, Launch Torpedoes. Take the gloves off the main batteries. Drop the hammer!”
He watched the glitter of the particle beams as they bridged the gap between the Roanoke and the Naalx ship. In a moment, he caught sight of the torpedoes' thrusters as they left the tubes and picked up momentum. Holes and brief explosions marked the impact of his weapons. But the sheer volume of Naalxian fire was beginning to take its toll. The armor was failing or had failed in over a dozen spots. 3 autocannon and 1 railgun mount were out of commission.
2 minutes after they launched the torpedoes, the sight of more than 100 Hammerhead missiles was marked by the flare of their drives. Another volley of Hammerheads was launched the moment new missiles were lifted into the racks.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, hold off on another volley for hammerheads.”
Checking his console, “Launch Shrikes at targets of opportunity with no shields, rear tubes target enemy capital ships and hope those torpedoes get through.” he ordered.
Multiple small explosions let him know the point defense systems were taking on the Hammerheads. And a moment later, a pair of massive explosions told him the nuclear-tipped torpedoes had hit their target.
“Captain, The Commodore’s squadron has escaped.” one of his techs announced.
“Thank you,” he answered
“Distance to command ship?” he asked
“ 250 km Sir” was the reply
“Helm, continue advancing on the command ship and pass her on our port side. We’ll give her a broadside and go to FTL after we clear.”
A tech from the damage control position spoke up, “Captain! FTL is down and jump drive is destroyed”
“Ahh hell’ cried the Captain.
“Damage report!” he ordered
“ Ventral turret destroyed, railgun mounts 2 and 5 destroyed, mount 9 damaged but functional. Autocannon mounts 11,13, 23 and 25 destroyed. Hammerhead launchers 3 and 8 destroyed.” The tech checked the screen before continuing, “ Explosive decompressions on decks 3 and 5. Explosive decompression in Med Bay. Ablative armor badly damaged and penetrated in around 20 spots. Engine #3 is down. Power unstable in many areas of the ship”
“FTL down, engineering needs an hour to fix. The jump drive is destroyed. Long-range comms are down” The tech finished.
“Casualty reports!” Captain Král ordered
A different tech replied, “249 dead, roughly 800 wounded with 327 too injured to fight.”
“Thank you.” he returned. Doing the math in his head he had just over 1300 combat effective and 482 of those were his Marines, the other 18 were left behind.
After thinking a moment, “Helm, same course as before but since we can’t go to FTL, circle to the aft of the command ship and lessen the incoming fire for the moment”
Looking over to the comms tech, “ Get me the chief engineer on the horn.”
Tapping the switch on the console, he called down to tactical. “ XO, I’m taking us around to the aft of the command ship and play peek-a-boo.”
“We’ll pass on her port side and I want a broadside from all batteries that can hit it and launch half the Shrikes we have left at it.”
“After we get to their rear, target enemy aft batteries, I want them all hunks of twisted metal.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir.” Lt. Commander Ricci replied. “Ammo count update Sir.”
“Go ahead,” he replied
“Only the two forward tubes are loaded, aft tubes empty, railgun and autocannon are down to 30%. Dorsal turret is at 10% but they are working on transferring surviving ammo from the Ventral turret.
We can launch 4 more full racks of Shrikes and 5+ Hammerheads.” She finished
“Understood. Thank you” Captain Král replied
“Captain, Chief Engineer on the line” a tech relayed
“Route it to my console,” he ordered
“ I need you to place charges on the computer core, all the experimental equipment, engines, and fire suppression control. If we go down, I don’t want them getting a damn thing but blood and pain.”
“Aye Sir.” The Chief replied.
Captain Král turned back to watch as the Roanoke passed the command ship to port. He watched as massive explosions rippled across the enemy flank and dorsal surface. They were too close for the point defense to pick off the majority of the Shrikes.
As the Roanoke got behind and slightly below the enemy command ship, she slowed and allowed her surviving batteries to silence the command ship's aft batteries.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, fire half our remaining hammerheads into her engines.”
“Affirmative,” replied the XO
Captain Král watched as the hammerheads impacted the command ship’s engines and saw the thrust nozzles dim as the engines went offline. The enemy batteries stopped firing and she began to drift.
“Helm, get us 500 km from the command ship and line up to fire our last 2 avalanche torpedoes.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir, 500km bow towards the enemy” the helmsman repeated
The Captain called down to tactical ” Nana, We’re positioning the ship to line up the front tubes and we’re going to kill that bastard. Stay on the line and fire on my order.”
“Aye Sir, we’re ready.” The XO answered
“Helm?” Captain Král asked
“ 3 seconds Captain.” the helmsman replied
Captain Král watched and as soon as he got the angle he wanted, “Fire Torpedoes!” he commanded
The whole bridge crew watched and waited for the impact. Both torpedoes struck amidships and tore massive holes in the hull. As they watched, lines of explosions traveled across the hull and began to rip the ship in half. The bridge crew let out a yell and the rest of the ship after the Captain had the information broadcast over the intercom.
“ Helm, get us the hell out of here. Maybe we can outrun the bigger ships and buy time to fix the FTL.” Captain Král ordered
But before the helmsman could act, there was a massive jolt.
“What the hell?” he yelled
A tech answered, “ We were rammed by a Naalx cruiser and several smaller ships are closing in.“
But instead of ramming the Roanoke, they launched breeching pods.
His finger stabbed down to open the intercom. “ All hands, Prepare to Repel Boarders! Security teams, tactical will relay their access position. “ He ordered
He pulled out his sidearm and checked that it was ready. Several other techs did the same, while his security detachment moved to defensive positions to watch the hatch.
“Target those pods!” Captain Král ordered but he didn’t need to say it, his gunnery crews were on it. Here and there a brief flash of light marked the destruction of a pod.
“XO, fire all remaining missiles. Pick your targets,” he commanded “All batteries, open fire.”
He left the tac net open to track the status of the enemy boarding parties.
He listened to the cacophony of noises coming over the tac net.
“Security team alpha to section 7, level 3. Bravo team section 2 level 1, Charlie team section 12, level 5” Lt. Commander Ricci ordered.
“There’s too many, fall back to position 2…” an unidentified voice ordered
Another voice firmly stated, “Hold your ground, nothing gets past us.”
“Theta team down, a handful of Naalx heading for engineering!” a panicked voice exclaimed
And dozens of others just like it, always with the sound of combat in the background.
“Captain, more breaching pods en route!” a tech exclaimed
“Get me the Chief Engineer!” the Captain ordered
At the Chief Engineer’s response, he ordered “Detonate all sabotage charges except the main computer. Set that one on a manual trigger at my console with a 20-minute timer as a backup. And then set the reactors to overload, we’re not going to hold the ship much longer. And set a charge to breach the hull and decompress Engineering as soon as you are clear”
“Affirmative, Captain. She was a good ship” the Chief replied
Turning to his bridge crew, “Give the order to abandon ship. Have all the pods head for the station.”
The Captain called tactical, “Lt. Commander Ricci, all hands abandon ship. Get as many of them home as you can.”
“ I understand, Sir.” She answered, “I’ll see you at the station.” she said hopefully
“I'm afraid not, Nana. I’m the Captain and I’m going down with my ship.” he stated, “And someone needs to make sure they can’t shut down the overload.”
“Transfer all fire controls to my station and get the hell out of here.”
“Aye Sir, It’s been an honor” the XO replied
“The honor is all mine. You are going to make an excellent Captain. Goodbye my friend” Captain Král finished.
His bridge crew tried to convince him to go with them but he declined and ordered security to get them into the escape pods.
Then he sat and watched as his consoles began reporting each pod as it launched. He also kept an eye on his sensors and concentrated fire on any Naalx ship that was moving to intercept the pods. They knew better than to fire on them but nothing said they couldn’t capture them.
He also prepared a probe with all the ship logs and combat data and fired it toward human-held territory. It would run silently until it exited the system and then begin broadcasting a coded signal for pickup.
He was dismayed at how few pods had left the ship and regretted so many young lives had been cut short.
As he saw the last pod clear the battlefield, he sat back for a moment and then triggered the charge on the main computer.
A hard pounding came from the other side of the hatchway. But there wasn’t enough power to open it. He guessed the pinging on the door was them firing their lasers and trying to blast it open.
He wondered if it would work but a huge rumble, a bright flash, interrupted, and the long career of Captain Král was finally over.
News of the Roanoke’s final battle flashed across news channels on hundreds of worlds. Her courageous and foolhardy charge at a superior force. The damage she did to the Naalx fleet before her destruction. How, of the 1859 members of the crew that went into the battle, only 108 survived.
The videos taken from both sides during the battle played over and over again.
How the Naalx picked up all the escape pods and released them on the station immediately.
And even recovered the bodies of any human they found while gathering their dead.
Naalx losses were the command ship, 2 capital ships, 9 sub-capitals destroyed, and a dozen other vessels damaged in one form or another. Naalx casualties were over 50,000 dead
Only the Naalx’s immense respect for courage, audacity, and bravery in the face of danger kept the skirmish from blowing up into a war.
The Naalx rendered full military honors as they turned the Human dead over to Lt. Commander Ricci.
The Captain Král, A Grenville-class cruiser, was launched 2 years later. Captain Nana Ricci in command.
If you feel like leaving a tip https://ko-fi.com/tomcarey
2024.05.16 02:20 jebstewart The Water of Sweet Lips
“My road has been long and weary, friend”, my annoyance with the bartender was surely obvious. I snatched the whiskey coke from the bar and sucked it down greedily.
“All I’m sayin’ is that it’s noon on a monday there, bud”, his cigarette-charred throat made him sound rougher than his years. Bud… I never really cared for that word, bud. Especially considering I was at least a hundred and fifty years his senior.
“I got all the time in the world”, I sighed, motioning at the empty glass. Without hurry, he refilled the cup. I turned from the bar and scanned the rest of the room, studying the empty chairs waiting for their next patron to arrive. Aside from the old farmer nursing on a corn-themed Busch can, it was utterly empty. It was days like these I hated the most.
I’ve spent many monday afternoons in taverns like these. I’ve also spent them rebuilding our nation after a bloody war, taking part in two more bloody wars overseas and helping countless folk along the way. I watched the Red Scare pull at those old seams, starved with my brothers and sisters during the depression and everything between. Somehow, someway, days like these were even worse.
Lethargic gluttony.
In all my years, all one hundred and sixty eight, this is far and away the most prosperous. It just seems that nobody cares. No more comradery through the pain, or maybe pain brings comradery? I think so.
One hundred and forty six years since I drank the water from a nondescript stream in the backyard of our childhood home. Sweet Lips, what a fitting name for the town it all started in.
I started a family once, maybe a decade after I’d first drank that crick water. We, Mary and I, had two kids, one who survived. I wish that I could say it was a happy life we led but she grew… suspicious. As we approached our 60th cycle around the Sun she became suspicious that my 20s-something face hadn’t aged a day during all that time. She fled and I wandered on alone.
I wedded twice more. My second wife, Isabella, took my things and ran off with another man… another man who I will get to later. Finally, there was Elizabath. Oh, how I loved that little spitfire, her sweet, freckled face. We’d met at a pub in the Bronx a couple years after the end of the second world war. I went to great lengths to hide my past, to hide how long I had really been around for. If it wasn’t for the brain cancer, that little spot on her pituitary gland, then I’m sure she would’ve found out and left anyways. That’s what I try to tell myself.
I will never love again.
“Ya’ alright there?”, I jumped, turning from the window back toward the gravel voiced gentleman staring uneasily my way.
“Just fine, the sunshine feels good”, I relished the dim warmth radiating from the window for a moment longer before shuffling back into the dingy midst of the Green Bottle Blues Inn. I hadn’t been to this bar before, though it felt similar to the hundreds of others I’d visited along my journeys through the American midwest.
“Another?”, the gravel-voiced man was washing out a glass in the dirty sink behind the bar, a damp towel clung limply to his shoulder.
“Sure, but I oughta’ get goin’ afterward”, my smile felt even emptier than the glass I slid toward the man. He glanced at me quizzically before pulling the bottle of whiskey down from the top shelf. I suppose, with enough time, you can afford even the finer things.
“What’s your name, fella?”, he returned the smile though his brow remained furrowed. He was studying me. No surprises there, fella, I’m a couple steps ahead of you.
“Tom, just Tom, not short for nothin’”, I replied, bringing the amber liquid to my lips. I took a deep pull and met the mans gaze. His eyes widened as he took an obvious step backward. Slowly, however, that professional smile returned to his lips.
“What brings you back here, Tom?”, his hands had disappeared beneath the bar, though his eyes stayed level with mine.
To these folks, I was the antichrist. I suppose I can’t blame them for the aggression.
“I was thinkin’ about paying my old brother a visit, as I’m sure you know”, I shrugged, struggling to get the last drop of Drambuie from the glass.
Truthfully, I hadn’t been welcome in Sweet Lips ever since my brother and I fell out all those years ago. All those decades ago. He chose a different route with his immortality.
The gravel-voiced man stiffened, revealing the double-barrel shotgun he had fished from underneath the bar. He stuck the barrel directly in my face.
“Jesus, you treat all your customers like this?”, I replied coolly, still clutching that empty thing in my hands. The man seemed to buckle a bit and laugh, a nervous chuckle it was.
“No sir, nobody but you”, he straightened himself up, revealing his massive frame. Big man, big man.
I stood slowly, leaning in close to the mans face as the barrel of his gun drew further back. His eyes were hectic, seemingly shaking in their deep sockets.
“He’s lead you astray, y’know”, I bared my teeth, my teeth which would've been dust if not for the water in that little stream.
The only thing that hurt as much as Elizabath, maybe even more, was watching my dear brother grow so bitter through the years. The only other person who shared this curse with me had chosen to do harm to those around him. It makes me sick.
I gripped the glass more harshly, swinging my arm toward the man's face. Suddenly, something stopped. I turned right and noticed the thick, rough hands clutching at my arm. The old man. The fucking old man.
The gun butt swung, and the world went quiet.
The church spire stood tall and obscenely white against the cloudless sky, bending almost imperceptibly at its tip like it was a misplaced set piece of a Tim Burton stop-motion film. Curled, decrepit grass jutted from underneath its foundations like dying hands reaching for help. A well made of gray stone and mortar resided no more than ten yards in front of the vestibule.
Two men clung at each arm, though I doubted I could make a run for it in my current state. A circle of various people surrounded the well, all of them were adorned in either red dresses or red suits.
In the very center of the group, standing directly behind the well, was an all-too-familiar face. He smiled, a hideous grin.
“I knew you’d come”, he hiccupped, trying to stifle a laugh. I could only watch helplessly, my obliterated nose filling my mouth with the coppery taste of blood.
“Tom”, his smile fell flat, his eyes burning through me with all the horrors of a thousand lifetimes, “I wanted you to have a front row seat”.
My brother, Timothy, began pulling at the rope hanging deep down in the well. A bucket, like most wells, was at the other end. He produced a knife and sliced the buckets fraying rope, careful not to spill any of its contents while doing so.
Timothy fell to one knee, presenting the receptacle to the man standing to his left. He accepted, bringing the rim of the bucket to his lips and taking a deep, satisfying pull. The man smiled, a sinister, deviant smile before passing the bucket onward.
“Soon, Tom, this world will be ours”, Timothy declared, his face remaining flat and emotionless.
As soon as the last of the townsfolk, the last member of the Sweet Lips Congregation, took a swig from the well water, the men released me. I fell in a heap. I never thought he would share the water, I knew I should’ve come sooner.
“Let him go, he’s gonna need a head start”, the immortal man spat.
submitted by jebstewart to nosleep [link] [comments]
“All I’m sayin’ is that it’s noon on a monday there, bud”, his cigarette-charred throat made him sound rougher than his years. Bud… I never really cared for that word, bud. Especially considering I was at least a hundred and fifty years his senior.
“I got all the time in the world”, I sighed, motioning at the empty glass. Without hurry, he refilled the cup. I turned from the bar and scanned the rest of the room, studying the empty chairs waiting for their next patron to arrive. Aside from the old farmer nursing on a corn-themed Busch can, it was utterly empty. It was days like these I hated the most.
I’ve spent many monday afternoons in taverns like these. I’ve also spent them rebuilding our nation after a bloody war, taking part in two more bloody wars overseas and helping countless folk along the way. I watched the Red Scare pull at those old seams, starved with my brothers and sisters during the depression and everything between. Somehow, someway, days like these were even worse.
Lethargic gluttony.
In all my years, all one hundred and sixty eight, this is far and away the most prosperous. It just seems that nobody cares. No more comradery through the pain, or maybe pain brings comradery? I think so.
One hundred and forty six years since I drank the water from a nondescript stream in the backyard of our childhood home. Sweet Lips, what a fitting name for the town it all started in.
I started a family once, maybe a decade after I’d first drank that crick water. We, Mary and I, had two kids, one who survived. I wish that I could say it was a happy life we led but she grew… suspicious. As we approached our 60th cycle around the Sun she became suspicious that my 20s-something face hadn’t aged a day during all that time. She fled and I wandered on alone.
I wedded twice more. My second wife, Isabella, took my things and ran off with another man… another man who I will get to later. Finally, there was Elizabath. Oh, how I loved that little spitfire, her sweet, freckled face. We’d met at a pub in the Bronx a couple years after the end of the second world war. I went to great lengths to hide my past, to hide how long I had really been around for. If it wasn’t for the brain cancer, that little spot on her pituitary gland, then I’m sure she would’ve found out and left anyways. That’s what I try to tell myself.
I will never love again.
“Ya’ alright there?”, I jumped, turning from the window back toward the gravel voiced gentleman staring uneasily my way.
“Just fine, the sunshine feels good”, I relished the dim warmth radiating from the window for a moment longer before shuffling back into the dingy midst of the Green Bottle Blues Inn. I hadn’t been to this bar before, though it felt similar to the hundreds of others I’d visited along my journeys through the American midwest.
“Another?”, the gravel-voiced man was washing out a glass in the dirty sink behind the bar, a damp towel clung limply to his shoulder.
“Sure, but I oughta’ get goin’ afterward”, my smile felt even emptier than the glass I slid toward the man. He glanced at me quizzically before pulling the bottle of whiskey down from the top shelf. I suppose, with enough time, you can afford even the finer things.
“What’s your name, fella?”, he returned the smile though his brow remained furrowed. He was studying me. No surprises there, fella, I’m a couple steps ahead of you.
“Tom, just Tom, not short for nothin’”, I replied, bringing the amber liquid to my lips. I took a deep pull and met the mans gaze. His eyes widened as he took an obvious step backward. Slowly, however, that professional smile returned to his lips.
“What brings you back here, Tom?”, his hands had disappeared beneath the bar, though his eyes stayed level with mine.
To these folks, I was the antichrist. I suppose I can’t blame them for the aggression.
“I was thinkin’ about paying my old brother a visit, as I’m sure you know”, I shrugged, struggling to get the last drop of Drambuie from the glass.
Truthfully, I hadn’t been welcome in Sweet Lips ever since my brother and I fell out all those years ago. All those decades ago. He chose a different route with his immortality.
The gravel-voiced man stiffened, revealing the double-barrel shotgun he had fished from underneath the bar. He stuck the barrel directly in my face.
“Jesus, you treat all your customers like this?”, I replied coolly, still clutching that empty thing in my hands. The man seemed to buckle a bit and laugh, a nervous chuckle it was.
“No sir, nobody but you”, he straightened himself up, revealing his massive frame. Big man, big man.
I stood slowly, leaning in close to the mans face as the barrel of his gun drew further back. His eyes were hectic, seemingly shaking in their deep sockets.
“He’s lead you astray, y’know”, I bared my teeth, my teeth which would've been dust if not for the water in that little stream.
The only thing that hurt as much as Elizabath, maybe even more, was watching my dear brother grow so bitter through the years. The only other person who shared this curse with me had chosen to do harm to those around him. It makes me sick.
I gripped the glass more harshly, swinging my arm toward the man's face. Suddenly, something stopped. I turned right and noticed the thick, rough hands clutching at my arm. The old man. The fucking old man.
The gun butt swung, and the world went quiet.
The church spire stood tall and obscenely white against the cloudless sky, bending almost imperceptibly at its tip like it was a misplaced set piece of a Tim Burton stop-motion film. Curled, decrepit grass jutted from underneath its foundations like dying hands reaching for help. A well made of gray stone and mortar resided no more than ten yards in front of the vestibule.
Two men clung at each arm, though I doubted I could make a run for it in my current state. A circle of various people surrounded the well, all of them were adorned in either red dresses or red suits.
In the very center of the group, standing directly behind the well, was an all-too-familiar face. He smiled, a hideous grin.
“I knew you’d come”, he hiccupped, trying to stifle a laugh. I could only watch helplessly, my obliterated nose filling my mouth with the coppery taste of blood.
“Tom”, his smile fell flat, his eyes burning through me with all the horrors of a thousand lifetimes, “I wanted you to have a front row seat”.
My brother, Timothy, began pulling at the rope hanging deep down in the well. A bucket, like most wells, was at the other end. He produced a knife and sliced the buckets fraying rope, careful not to spill any of its contents while doing so.
Timothy fell to one knee, presenting the receptacle to the man standing to his left. He accepted, bringing the rim of the bucket to his lips and taking a deep, satisfying pull. The man smiled, a sinister, deviant smile before passing the bucket onward.
“Soon, Tom, this world will be ours”, Timothy declared, his face remaining flat and emotionless.
As soon as the last of the townsfolk, the last member of the Sweet Lips Congregation, took a swig from the well water, the men released me. I fell in a heap. I never thought he would share the water, I knew I should’ve come sooner.
“Let him go, he’s gonna need a head start”, the immortal man spat.
2024.05.16 01:54 No-Extent-63 Whispers of an Unseen Love
In the stillness of night, a whisper stirs within me, A longing unspoken, a yearning that tugs at my soul. Days stretch into endless horizons, Nights, a sea of stars, cold and distant, Each one a reminder of my solitude.
I wander through moments, my heart heavy, Burdened by the weight of waiting. For you, the one who will own my heart, Your presence a distant dream, Your essence a lingering hope.
In the quiet of the morning, I imagine The taste of your lips—pure, untouched by sorrow. A sweetness that speaks of love unfettered, Untouched by the cruel hands of heartbreak. I pray for your heart, whole and unscathed, Shielded from the pains of this world.
Will you see through my faults, Accept the fragments of me, scattered and raw? I wonder if we've crossed paths, Unknowing, in the dance of fate's design. Have I glimpsed you in a crowd, Felt the faint stirrings of recognition, Only to let the moment slip away?
Nights pass in a haze, Intoxicated by the thought of you, Your body warm against mine, The soft murmur of your breath in the dark, A symphony of belonging.
I call out to the unknown, To the woman who will hold my heart. In dreams, I find solace, In visions, I find hope. For in the vast expanse of waiting, It is the thought of you that keeps me whole.
submitted by No-Extent-63 to Poem [link] [comments]
I wander through moments, my heart heavy, Burdened by the weight of waiting. For you, the one who will own my heart, Your presence a distant dream, Your essence a lingering hope.
In the quiet of the morning, I imagine The taste of your lips—pure, untouched by sorrow. A sweetness that speaks of love unfettered, Untouched by the cruel hands of heartbreak. I pray for your heart, whole and unscathed, Shielded from the pains of this world.
Will you see through my faults, Accept the fragments of me, scattered and raw? I wonder if we've crossed paths, Unknowing, in the dance of fate's design. Have I glimpsed you in a crowd, Felt the faint stirrings of recognition, Only to let the moment slip away?
Nights pass in a haze, Intoxicated by the thought of you, Your body warm against mine, The soft murmur of your breath in the dark, A symphony of belonging.
I call out to the unknown, To the woman who will hold my heart. In dreams, I find solace, In visions, I find hope. For in the vast expanse of waiting, It is the thought of you that keeps me whole.
2024.05.16 01:42 Blake_meyer It was all true
I don't really know why I'm writing this ... I think it's because I've tried to explain it to my uncle but all he said is that I should get my addiction under control and stop forgetting to take my meds.
I can't blame him. You see... I have a history. I've lost it in the past , twice actually. I'm not here to talk about it , but I think it's important to lay this down first. So you can understand.
I've been told something's wrong with my brain, maybe I was born this way, maybe I've been through too much. That my mother was an addict, she'd cut ties with her family for 10 years when she had me. That where she had been and who my father was, is was very unclear. She was part of a community in the forgotten part of the nearest big city when she died. I was there when it happened.
My uncle Sean and Aunt Maggie became my guardians just before my 5th birthday and I'm still with him 20 years later. Maggie left the ranch a few weeks ago after an amicable divorce, I never understood why they were together anyway she was always working somewhere, traveling a lot. I was closer to him and his sturdy way of life.
When I first arrived at the ranch, I was in a bad shape. I got better thanks to him but when I reached thirteen, all the memories from my early childhood suddenly came back. I started having flashbacks. My memories came back, but they came back wrong.
I had been told that my mother had died of an untreated infection. Yet in my dreams, I saw her , again and again , in a pool of blood. An then... Then it came. The... Thing. I won't describe it. It kind of triggers something in me that I really don't need right now.
I've been told that what happened next was so traumatic that my brain made up a monster, a fiction , to make sense of what I was seeing and not processing.
This ... Thing started obsessing me and during my early teenage years I focused all my energy on finding what it was and proving it happened. That a monster did kill and mutilated my mother. My nightmares were so bad that I stopped sleeping. I drank so much energy drinks that I ended up in the hospital twice with severe dehydration.
Thankfully, I got better. I started working more and more with my uncle's horses. I think it's why he employed me, he saw how manual work and caring for the animals helped. I even got my first girlfriend around my 17th year. I was prom king. Who would have thought?
But then... She had a cheerleading accident. In front of me. And I lost it again. I won't go into details but she broke her neck during half-time and once again... The way she fell, folded and screamed. I couldn't process. It was IT. It'd shapeshifted to get to her. I'm ashamed of it but I became violent. Looking for it franticly. Screaming non sense and talking made up words. I had to be sedated. She made it alive, but she never wanted to see me again. I was accused by pretty much everyone to make the accident all about myself. And they were kind of right....
Now you know how I came to be the " crazy" guy. I have a bit of a drinking problem too to be honest... You see I never went back to high school. I started working full time at the ranch when I came by, and sometimes, it gets lonely. It's not rare to find me passed out in the hay in the early morning in the summer. And what can I tell you... I know I shouldn't. I know it's "bad" . But I love those nights. I put music , cuddle with my dog and just look at the cold bright stars, drinking beer until they start spinning.
It's because of this bad habit that I realized something was wrong with the horses. You see, contrary to the movies, horses are pretty silent. They don't neigh unless you separate them from their best mate or bring food. And that night... The night it all started. They wouldn't stop. I could hear them galloping and snorting. I wondered if there was a stray dog but they were used to dogs. I was a bit worried. Horses get stupid when they are afraid and we had a big show coming, it wasn't the time so sprain a leg. What really troubled me was my dog. He seemed ... Weird.
Max was a pit mix my uncle had rescued when I was 15. He only woke when I got up and walked a bit to look at the paddocks. That's when I realised the moon behind me. It was huge, and red. I wondered if I had ever seen it so close and so red before. I looked at Max The white of his eyes showed and he started whining. I had never heard him make this noise. Ever.
I looked at my phone. It was quarter to three. I took a pitchfork to be safe and walked toward the clubhouse. We kept a shotgun there in a locker. The horses kept going crazy and max's tail was stiff. I was walking fast but carefully in the darkness when the music reached me. A chant. A low chant. I kind of felt it too... Like a ... vibration.
It was coming from the yearlings field near the forest patch, on the opposite direction of the clubhouse. My horse was in this field. I backtracked immediately and rushed toward the sound as I dialled my uncle. Off course he didn't answer. He didn't live on the property anymore but a few miles away. I left a message, whispering. " I'm at the stable, something weird ‘s happening. I think they're people messing with horses I'm going to see. I think you should come , I don't know...Call me back.". The weird chant buzzed in the background, louder, as if more people had joined. I saw the glow of the fire before I passed the last building. It rose , under the bloody moonlight. Dark figures circled around it. Slowly. The horses seemed to have retreated at the other end of the pasture and I was relieved. Until I saw it. The figure at the centre of this dark carousel. " What the f are those creeps doing" escaped my lips.
blazing fury filled me , like a white iron like a white hot blade blinding me . "HEYYYY" I screamed at the top of lungs. " WHAT ARE YOU DOING !? ". The figures stopped and turn toward me. I was running now , my knuckles going white around the pitchfork's stick. Max was growling. A deep growl. His hair high upon his backbone. The figure, still pretty far did not move. I could see their heavy hooded cloaks. " what kind of sick pricks are those " I muttered. " HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY" I screamed again, louder than I ever thought I could scream. And then I saw him. Gun.
Gun was my uncle's favourite horse. His old stallion's spitting image. The young horse was lying in front of the fire behind the intruders.
"WHAT DID YOU DO! I'M CALLING THE COPS!!!!". I stopped and was dialling when a figure detached itself from the group and advanced. It seemed to ... float? It moved toward Max and I... so silently.
The burning rage in veins turned cold , and heavy. I opened my mouth but nothing crossed my lips. Suddenly, Max jumped. He growled in a way I hope to never hear any dog do again. A desperate, furious growl. A life or death sound. A war cry... His warm blood spattered on my face. He... Honestly I don't know what happened at that moment. Something lied bloody on the ground but I couldn't even have told that it used to be a dog, even less Max. Acid tears filled my eyes as I realized my mouth was still open. I was tasting him.
I wanted to scream, to run, to just get swallowed by the earth and yet I did nothing at all but stare at the floating silhouette. It was so tall. " Come, my child". " We were waiting for you, we knew you'd come, Your father told us you'd be here when we'd call".
I heard those words, but I wouldn't be able to tell you anything about the thing who spoke them. I say thing because it didn't have a voice. It... Buzzed. Like... a cello.
Suddenly... I floated too. Panick seized me. Like a trapped raccoon in my
chest it dug its claws, scratching furiously my closed throat.
" Your father said you were ready. We will prepare you." I was now in front of the crackling blaze. the other figures circling me. Smiling Men and woman welcomed me. On their faces they all wore a similar mark. a cross covering their eyes horizontally, and their nose and mouth vertically. Their hands... Their hands were still dripping with gun's inside. Gun... Was ... opened.
" A necessary sacrificed" whispered a woman, still smiling. " I know you liked him very much... I'm sorry..." " I could have taken yours, but I knew you wouldn't have forgiven me'. Her voice. .." Aunt Maggie?' I croaked. Her eyes shone with a mad light. " Gosh do you look like your mother tonight... She'd be so proud. Her baby boy..." .
The tall figure made a gesture and I spined and found myself looking at the sky. I thought I'd fallen but... I wasn't touching the ground...
My aunt continued speaking." She was just like you the first time ... So... naive, so afraid.. She was only 16! That was our mistake you see, she wasn't ready for her destiny yet when she joined us... That's why we waited for you."
The chant , the low buzzing chant rose once again. The people around me started walking in a circle around me. I was just above Gun's body.
One, by one, they buried they hands in the belly of the horse and traced the cross on my face. I sealed my lips as tight as I could as the warm blood covered my face. Through the blood and tears I recognize faces. A nurse from the hospital. A teacher. The coffeeshop barista. My psychiatrist... I closed my eyes.
It was a nightmare. It couldn't be anything but a nightmare.
Yet the smell of the horse's inside and the crackling fire still reached me as they started ripping my clothes off.
" This is not real" I whispered. " This is not real, this is not real THIS IS NOT real" I screamed weakly.
'Oh , My dear I'm so sorry ' whispered my aunt. I should have told you earlier... But Dr Carter said it was better to let you grow up a bit first. He said it help you keep the secrets if you were afraid of them. I'm sure you don't feel this way, but it was an honour to watch your mother ascend the way she did. Her agony was the most beautiful thing she could have hoped for. You were supposed to ascend with her but she ruined it". " Slut" groaned a middle aged woman before spitting on the floor.
" She was my best friend you know... I thought I knew her. I thought I could trust her. But she lied to me."
"You see, we know you are his son. But... She wasn't a virgin when she was honoured."
She smiled. " It doesn't matter how cruelly she tricked us. You can help us find the perfect girl."
One by one, each member traced a symbol on my skin.
" You're so handsome... He'll be so glad. The perfect boy. The perfect vessel."
"It's almost time, Prepare" hissed the tall figure.
" You're going to give him his heir, the one ruler among the realms. You see he can't travel here whenever but you're an anchor my love. Each generation he choses an anchor until he finds one who'll give him THE son, the one who'll die for his freedom. Our freedom."
"QUIET SLAVE AND KNEEL" shrieked the tall figure.
She kneeled right near me, and whispered " You're...". I heard a slash. Aunt Maggie’s face slid horizontally. Her eyes followed me as the upper part of the face slid slowly toward the ground.
" HAIL THE PRINCE".
A chant, colder and louder than never before rose with the crackling flames toward the moon.
" Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young! » chanted the disciples."
Frozen, I watched the blazing sky above and saw a door. A perfect wooden door , in the sky. It slowly cracked open as the crowd turn to hysterics and the chant turned to mad screams.
"MY SOOOOOOOON" The whole earth seemed to split open under the weight of the sound coming from the perfect rectangle of empty darkness in the sky.
And then... I saw... I saw what I had tried to forget for twenty-years. I saw those split red eyes and their evil glare. I saw the iron hooves at the end of too many legs. I saw the tentacles who fled my mother with their thousand beaks. Everything all at once, I saw it shift, from an odious form to a more loathsome one. I burned in a way I'll never be able to describe.
I woke up two weeks ago in the nearest hospital. I was found on the ground, surrounded by the yearlings, the corpse of gun and some remains of Max. My uncle explained to me that I had found a bear feasting on Gun, that Max must have attacked it and I'd fainted or been knocked out trying to scare it away. Laying lifeless had saved me. I didn't speak of what I saw at the hospital. I knew better now. I've tried to explain to my uncle why I had to move out to the big city. That I had a mission now. That I had never been crazy and that I shouldn't have been afraid.
I know now that I'm blessed. You see he thinks I'm just having another episode, that it’s a "manic" episode and I should go back to the clinic, but I know better now. I am special. I am. And he can be too. Anyway... He'll be whether he joins or not. You'll all be. Because he is coming. He 'll bless us all. Because you see, I know I can find her and I'll give him the perfect door. A door to let him in. A door to let all of him in. He'll honour us all, all at once.
" Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young! »
submitted by Blake_meyer to Horror_stories [link] [comments]
I can't blame him. You see... I have a history. I've lost it in the past , twice actually. I'm not here to talk about it , but I think it's important to lay this down first. So you can understand.
I've been told something's wrong with my brain, maybe I was born this way, maybe I've been through too much. That my mother was an addict, she'd cut ties with her family for 10 years when she had me. That where she had been and who my father was, is was very unclear. She was part of a community in the forgotten part of the nearest big city when she died. I was there when it happened.
My uncle Sean and Aunt Maggie became my guardians just before my 5th birthday and I'm still with him 20 years later. Maggie left the ranch a few weeks ago after an amicable divorce, I never understood why they were together anyway she was always working somewhere, traveling a lot. I was closer to him and his sturdy way of life.
When I first arrived at the ranch, I was in a bad shape. I got better thanks to him but when I reached thirteen, all the memories from my early childhood suddenly came back. I started having flashbacks. My memories came back, but they came back wrong.
I had been told that my mother had died of an untreated infection. Yet in my dreams, I saw her , again and again , in a pool of blood. An then... Then it came. The... Thing. I won't describe it. It kind of triggers something in me that I really don't need right now.
I've been told that what happened next was so traumatic that my brain made up a monster, a fiction , to make sense of what I was seeing and not processing.
This ... Thing started obsessing me and during my early teenage years I focused all my energy on finding what it was and proving it happened. That a monster did kill and mutilated my mother. My nightmares were so bad that I stopped sleeping. I drank so much energy drinks that I ended up in the hospital twice with severe dehydration.
Thankfully, I got better. I started working more and more with my uncle's horses. I think it's why he employed me, he saw how manual work and caring for the animals helped. I even got my first girlfriend around my 17th year. I was prom king. Who would have thought?
But then... She had a cheerleading accident. In front of me. And I lost it again. I won't go into details but she broke her neck during half-time and once again... The way she fell, folded and screamed. I couldn't process. It was IT. It'd shapeshifted to get to her. I'm ashamed of it but I became violent. Looking for it franticly. Screaming non sense and talking made up words. I had to be sedated. She made it alive, but she never wanted to see me again. I was accused by pretty much everyone to make the accident all about myself. And they were kind of right....
Now you know how I came to be the " crazy" guy. I have a bit of a drinking problem too to be honest... You see I never went back to high school. I started working full time at the ranch when I came by, and sometimes, it gets lonely. It's not rare to find me passed out in the hay in the early morning in the summer. And what can I tell you... I know I shouldn't. I know it's "bad" . But I love those nights. I put music , cuddle with my dog and just look at the cold bright stars, drinking beer until they start spinning.
It's because of this bad habit that I realized something was wrong with the horses. You see, contrary to the movies, horses are pretty silent. They don't neigh unless you separate them from their best mate or bring food. And that night... The night it all started. They wouldn't stop. I could hear them galloping and snorting. I wondered if there was a stray dog but they were used to dogs. I was a bit worried. Horses get stupid when they are afraid and we had a big show coming, it wasn't the time so sprain a leg. What really troubled me was my dog. He seemed ... Weird.
Max was a pit mix my uncle had rescued when I was 15. He only woke when I got up and walked a bit to look at the paddocks. That's when I realised the moon behind me. It was huge, and red. I wondered if I had ever seen it so close and so red before. I looked at Max The white of his eyes showed and he started whining. I had never heard him make this noise. Ever.
I looked at my phone. It was quarter to three. I took a pitchfork to be safe and walked toward the clubhouse. We kept a shotgun there in a locker. The horses kept going crazy and max's tail was stiff. I was walking fast but carefully in the darkness when the music reached me. A chant. A low chant. I kind of felt it too... Like a ... vibration.
It was coming from the yearlings field near the forest patch, on the opposite direction of the clubhouse. My horse was in this field. I backtracked immediately and rushed toward the sound as I dialled my uncle. Off course he didn't answer. He didn't live on the property anymore but a few miles away. I left a message, whispering. " I'm at the stable, something weird ‘s happening. I think they're people messing with horses I'm going to see. I think you should come , I don't know...Call me back.". The weird chant buzzed in the background, louder, as if more people had joined. I saw the glow of the fire before I passed the last building. It rose , under the bloody moonlight. Dark figures circled around it. Slowly. The horses seemed to have retreated at the other end of the pasture and I was relieved. Until I saw it. The figure at the centre of this dark carousel. " What the f are those creeps doing" escaped my lips.
blazing fury filled me , like a white iron like a white hot blade blinding me . "HEYYYY" I screamed at the top of lungs. " WHAT ARE YOU DOING !? ". The figures stopped and turn toward me. I was running now , my knuckles going white around the pitchfork's stick. Max was growling. A deep growl. His hair high upon his backbone. The figure, still pretty far did not move. I could see their heavy hooded cloaks. " what kind of sick pricks are those " I muttered. " HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY" I screamed again, louder than I ever thought I could scream. And then I saw him. Gun.
Gun was my uncle's favourite horse. His old stallion's spitting image. The young horse was lying in front of the fire behind the intruders.
"WHAT DID YOU DO! I'M CALLING THE COPS!!!!". I stopped and was dialling when a figure detached itself from the group and advanced. It seemed to ... float? It moved toward Max and I... so silently.
The burning rage in veins turned cold , and heavy. I opened my mouth but nothing crossed my lips. Suddenly, Max jumped. He growled in a way I hope to never hear any dog do again. A desperate, furious growl. A life or death sound. A war cry... His warm blood spattered on my face. He... Honestly I don't know what happened at that moment. Something lied bloody on the ground but I couldn't even have told that it used to be a dog, even less Max. Acid tears filled my eyes as I realized my mouth was still open. I was tasting him.
I wanted to scream, to run, to just get swallowed by the earth and yet I did nothing at all but stare at the floating silhouette. It was so tall. " Come, my child". " We were waiting for you, we knew you'd come, Your father told us you'd be here when we'd call".
I heard those words, but I wouldn't be able to tell you anything about the thing who spoke them. I say thing because it didn't have a voice. It... Buzzed. Like... a cello.
Suddenly... I floated too. Panick seized me. Like a trapped raccoon in my
chest it dug its claws, scratching furiously my closed throat.
" Your father said you were ready. We will prepare you." I was now in front of the crackling blaze. the other figures circling me. Smiling Men and woman welcomed me. On their faces they all wore a similar mark. a cross covering their eyes horizontally, and their nose and mouth vertically. Their hands... Their hands were still dripping with gun's inside. Gun... Was ... opened.
" A necessary sacrificed" whispered a woman, still smiling. " I know you liked him very much... I'm sorry..." " I could have taken yours, but I knew you wouldn't have forgiven me'. Her voice. .." Aunt Maggie?' I croaked. Her eyes shone with a mad light. " Gosh do you look like your mother tonight... She'd be so proud. Her baby boy..." .
The tall figure made a gesture and I spined and found myself looking at the sky. I thought I'd fallen but... I wasn't touching the ground...
My aunt continued speaking." She was just like you the first time ... So... naive, so afraid.. She was only 16! That was our mistake you see, she wasn't ready for her destiny yet when she joined us... That's why we waited for you."
The chant , the low buzzing chant rose once again. The people around me started walking in a circle around me. I was just above Gun's body.
One, by one, they buried they hands in the belly of the horse and traced the cross on my face. I sealed my lips as tight as I could as the warm blood covered my face. Through the blood and tears I recognize faces. A nurse from the hospital. A teacher. The coffeeshop barista. My psychiatrist... I closed my eyes.
It was a nightmare. It couldn't be anything but a nightmare.
Yet the smell of the horse's inside and the crackling fire still reached me as they started ripping my clothes off.
" This is not real" I whispered. " This is not real, this is not real THIS IS NOT real" I screamed weakly.
'Oh , My dear I'm so sorry ' whispered my aunt. I should have told you earlier... But Dr Carter said it was better to let you grow up a bit first. He said it help you keep the secrets if you were afraid of them. I'm sure you don't feel this way, but it was an honour to watch your mother ascend the way she did. Her agony was the most beautiful thing she could have hoped for. You were supposed to ascend with her but she ruined it". " Slut" groaned a middle aged woman before spitting on the floor.
" She was my best friend you know... I thought I knew her. I thought I could trust her. But she lied to me."
"You see, we know you are his son. But... She wasn't a virgin when she was honoured."
She smiled. " It doesn't matter how cruelly she tricked us. You can help us find the perfect girl."
One by one, each member traced a symbol on my skin.
" You're so handsome... He'll be so glad. The perfect boy. The perfect vessel."
"It's almost time, Prepare" hissed the tall figure.
" You're going to give him his heir, the one ruler among the realms. You see he can't travel here whenever but you're an anchor my love. Each generation he choses an anchor until he finds one who'll give him THE son, the one who'll die for his freedom. Our freedom."
"QUIET SLAVE AND KNEEL" shrieked the tall figure.
She kneeled right near me, and whispered " You're...". I heard a slash. Aunt Maggie’s face slid horizontally. Her eyes followed me as the upper part of the face slid slowly toward the ground.
" HAIL THE PRINCE".
A chant, colder and louder than never before rose with the crackling flames toward the moon.
" Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young! » chanted the disciples."
Frozen, I watched the blazing sky above and saw a door. A perfect wooden door , in the sky. It slowly cracked open as the crowd turn to hysterics and the chant turned to mad screams.
"MY SOOOOOOOON" The whole earth seemed to split open under the weight of the sound coming from the perfect rectangle of empty darkness in the sky.
And then... I saw... I saw what I had tried to forget for twenty-years. I saw those split red eyes and their evil glare. I saw the iron hooves at the end of too many legs. I saw the tentacles who fled my mother with their thousand beaks. Everything all at once, I saw it shift, from an odious form to a more loathsome one. I burned in a way I'll never be able to describe.
I woke up two weeks ago in the nearest hospital. I was found on the ground, surrounded by the yearlings, the corpse of gun and some remains of Max. My uncle explained to me that I had found a bear feasting on Gun, that Max must have attacked it and I'd fainted or been knocked out trying to scare it away. Laying lifeless had saved me. I didn't speak of what I saw at the hospital. I knew better now. I've tried to explain to my uncle why I had to move out to the big city. That I had a mission now. That I had never been crazy and that I shouldn't have been afraid.
I know now that I'm blessed. You see he thinks I'm just having another episode, that it’s a "manic" episode and I should go back to the clinic, but I know better now. I am special. I am. And he can be too. Anyway... He'll be whether he joins or not. You'll all be. Because he is coming. He 'll bless us all. Because you see, I know I can find her and I'll give him the perfect door. A door to let him in. A door to let all of him in. He'll honour us all, all at once.
" Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young! »
2024.05.16 01:37 AspiringSpire1 Cleithro--a short horror story
She greeted him with lips and an open mouth before he’d managed to shut the front door; a welcoming home he hadn’t received since they were still dating. The surprise assault nearly caused Mark to stumble backward into the hallway, but he recovered and returned the embrace in kind, relishing the feeling of her body and tongue against his. As she pulled away, he thought he detected a faint aftertaste on her breath—something unnatural hidden underneath, an earthy flavor that reminded him of potting soil. The taste was gone as soon as it had come, and he forgot about it in short order.
“Welcome home, babe,” Tracy said with a smile, and he smiled back.
“Well, that was nice,” he said, while his brain scrambled to attribute any significance to this day, a forgotten birthday or anniversary or any reason at all for the enthusiasm he’d been welcomed home with. He came up empty, conceded defeat and said, “What was that for?”
“I’ve just missed you, is all. I’m glad you’re home.” She was still smiling, her green eyes drinking him in like sunflowers in the first light of the morning. She waited for him to remove his shoes, then took his hand and pulled him into the warm glow of the kitchen and kissed him again in a fervent reminder of their youth. The taste was stronger this time; he thought it familiar but couldn’t place it. Bad breath, perhaps.
They passed through the kitchen into the dark of their living room, lit only by the cool white of the television. An old rerun of Tracy’s favorite sitcom was on, filling the room with bombastic voices and the intervallic laughs of a live studio audience. Mark jumped at the unexpected sight of a figure sitting on the couch—a woman with hands in her lap and an upright posture, her eyes glued to the TV without so much as an acknowledgment of their presence. Her face was a blank slate.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you Shelby is here,” Tracy said, motioning to her sister. “She wanted to come over and hang out for a while. Her husband has been fucking their underage neighbor. She walked in on them today.”
This tactless and matter-of-fact proclamation shocked Mark almost as much as the news itself. “Oh, Shelby, I’m so sorry,” he said. “Have you talked to the police yet?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tracy said, waving an apathetic hand before sitting opposite her sister on the couch and patting the spot between them, grinning. “We’re all just going to relax and have a good time right now. Why don’t you come take a seat?”
Mark shifted on his feet but relented and walked over to sit. When he did, Tracy scooted over to him and put a hand on his thigh, whispering in his ear while lightly brushing his cheek with soft lips. It was something she knew he liked, at least when they were alone.
“Don’t you want to have a good time with me?” She said, planting a slow, deliberate kiss in front of his ear, following it up with a dab of her tongue. Her cool breath carried a strange smell to his nose, and the hair on Mark’s arms stood up despite himself. Tracy put a hand between his legs and gave him a firm squeeze.
Mark started like he’d received an electric shock and pulled his wife’s hand away, trying his best to whisper quietly enough for only her to hear. “What the hell are you doing?” he said, shooting a nervous glance at Shelby, who appeared unbothered.
“It’s fine, babe. I just can’t resist you. It’s not my fault you look so good,” Tracy whispered louder than him and tried snaking her hand back onto his crotch. It was all Mark could do to keep her at bay without alerting Shelby outright.
“Your sister is right there,” he said through gritted teeth. “And you just said she’s going through some shit. Just wait until later. You can have anything you want then.”
“Oh, there’s no way I can wait. You’re much too tempting for that. What do you say we go to the bedroom? I’m gonna give you something you’ll never forget.” Tracy moaned audibly and gnashed her teeth so hard Mark recoiled. He turned and looked at her with a bewildered expression, while hers was nothing short of ravenous.
“What is going on?” He asked her. “I’m not comfortable with this at all. Just wait until we’re alone!”
Tracy stood and looked down on him with crossed arms, not bothering to whisper. “I don’t care how comfortable you are. You’re my husband, and you’re going to give me what I want. I have to go to the bathroom. You have until I get back to lighten up and have a good time with me.” She walked to the back of the apartment in a huff.
Mark moved into Tracy’s old spot and stared at the ground. He wasn’t sure how much of that Shelby had seen and heard, but she’d surely heard something, and he had no idea what to say.
“It’s not her.” She spoke so quietly, and Mark had been so consumed with embarrassed thoughts that Shelby’s words didn’t register at first. When he realized she’d said something, he turned to her, and for the first time he noticed that she hadn’t moved since he’d walked in. Not one muscle. Not an inch.
“What did you say?” he asked her.
“It’s not her. She’s dead.”
The clunk of footsteps on the wooden floor in the kitchen preceded Tracy’s arrival, and she walked into the living room with a smile on her face, hands clasped behind her back.
Marks stomach sunk into a pit of ice at the sight of her hungry smile. “Alright, babe,” she said. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Shelby will be okay here alone for a little bit. I want you too badly to wait anymore.” Her smile widened, and a trail of green liquid ran from the corner of her mouth down her chin. She caressed her neck with her right hand, massaging slowly. “I want you, babe. You need to come give in to me. I won’t let you get away.”
Mark’s throat tightened as he turned to Shelby, who remained as motionless as ever and said nothing. He looked into the lustful eyes of Tracy, who winked and beckoned him to follow before walking back to their bedroom.
He didn't move at first. He felt like a python had squeezed the breath from his body, and he gasped and put a hand on his chest, attempting to gain control of his breathing.
“Come to me, dear husband!” A cry from the bedroom made him jump. But at these words, he accepted his fate. She was his wife, and she needed him. He would always love her.
He stood and walked into the kitchen. The apartment was dark, with the only light emanating from their bedroom, which sat with the door half-open at the end of the hallway.
Mark braced himself and walked towards it.
submitted by AspiringSpire1 to scarystories [link] [comments]
“Welcome home, babe,” Tracy said with a smile, and he smiled back.
“Well, that was nice,” he said, while his brain scrambled to attribute any significance to this day, a forgotten birthday or anniversary or any reason at all for the enthusiasm he’d been welcomed home with. He came up empty, conceded defeat and said, “What was that for?”
“I’ve just missed you, is all. I’m glad you’re home.” She was still smiling, her green eyes drinking him in like sunflowers in the first light of the morning. She waited for him to remove his shoes, then took his hand and pulled him into the warm glow of the kitchen and kissed him again in a fervent reminder of their youth. The taste was stronger this time; he thought it familiar but couldn’t place it. Bad breath, perhaps.
They passed through the kitchen into the dark of their living room, lit only by the cool white of the television. An old rerun of Tracy’s favorite sitcom was on, filling the room with bombastic voices and the intervallic laughs of a live studio audience. Mark jumped at the unexpected sight of a figure sitting on the couch—a woman with hands in her lap and an upright posture, her eyes glued to the TV without so much as an acknowledgment of their presence. Her face was a blank slate.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you Shelby is here,” Tracy said, motioning to her sister. “She wanted to come over and hang out for a while. Her husband has been fucking their underage neighbor. She walked in on them today.”
This tactless and matter-of-fact proclamation shocked Mark almost as much as the news itself. “Oh, Shelby, I’m so sorry,” he said. “Have you talked to the police yet?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tracy said, waving an apathetic hand before sitting opposite her sister on the couch and patting the spot between them, grinning. “We’re all just going to relax and have a good time right now. Why don’t you come take a seat?”
Mark shifted on his feet but relented and walked over to sit. When he did, Tracy scooted over to him and put a hand on his thigh, whispering in his ear while lightly brushing his cheek with soft lips. It was something she knew he liked, at least when they were alone.
“Don’t you want to have a good time with me?” She said, planting a slow, deliberate kiss in front of his ear, following it up with a dab of her tongue. Her cool breath carried a strange smell to his nose, and the hair on Mark’s arms stood up despite himself. Tracy put a hand between his legs and gave him a firm squeeze.
Mark started like he’d received an electric shock and pulled his wife’s hand away, trying his best to whisper quietly enough for only her to hear. “What the hell are you doing?” he said, shooting a nervous glance at Shelby, who appeared unbothered.
“It’s fine, babe. I just can’t resist you. It’s not my fault you look so good,” Tracy whispered louder than him and tried snaking her hand back onto his crotch. It was all Mark could do to keep her at bay without alerting Shelby outright.
“Your sister is right there,” he said through gritted teeth. “And you just said she’s going through some shit. Just wait until later. You can have anything you want then.”
“Oh, there’s no way I can wait. You’re much too tempting for that. What do you say we go to the bedroom? I’m gonna give you something you’ll never forget.” Tracy moaned audibly and gnashed her teeth so hard Mark recoiled. He turned and looked at her with a bewildered expression, while hers was nothing short of ravenous.
“What is going on?” He asked her. “I’m not comfortable with this at all. Just wait until we’re alone!”
Tracy stood and looked down on him with crossed arms, not bothering to whisper. “I don’t care how comfortable you are. You’re my husband, and you’re going to give me what I want. I have to go to the bathroom. You have until I get back to lighten up and have a good time with me.” She walked to the back of the apartment in a huff.
Mark moved into Tracy’s old spot and stared at the ground. He wasn’t sure how much of that Shelby had seen and heard, but she’d surely heard something, and he had no idea what to say.
“It’s not her.” She spoke so quietly, and Mark had been so consumed with embarrassed thoughts that Shelby’s words didn’t register at first. When he realized she’d said something, he turned to her, and for the first time he noticed that she hadn’t moved since he’d walked in. Not one muscle. Not an inch.
“What did you say?” he asked her.
“It’s not her. She’s dead.”
The clunk of footsteps on the wooden floor in the kitchen preceded Tracy’s arrival, and she walked into the living room with a smile on her face, hands clasped behind her back.
Marks stomach sunk into a pit of ice at the sight of her hungry smile. “Alright, babe,” she said. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Shelby will be okay here alone for a little bit. I want you too badly to wait anymore.” Her smile widened, and a trail of green liquid ran from the corner of her mouth down her chin. She caressed her neck with her right hand, massaging slowly. “I want you, babe. You need to come give in to me. I won’t let you get away.”
Mark’s throat tightened as he turned to Shelby, who remained as motionless as ever and said nothing. He looked into the lustful eyes of Tracy, who winked and beckoned him to follow before walking back to their bedroom.
He didn't move at first. He felt like a python had squeezed the breath from his body, and he gasped and put a hand on his chest, attempting to gain control of his breathing.
“Come to me, dear husband!” A cry from the bedroom made him jump. But at these words, he accepted his fate. She was his wife, and she needed him. He would always love her.
He stood and walked into the kitchen. The apartment was dark, with the only light emanating from their bedroom, which sat with the door half-open at the end of the hallway.
Mark braced himself and walked towards it.
2024.05.16 01:23 Fortesque96 Nexon's report shows two interesting things
the first is that the finals did not reach the expected numbers and they don't know why
the second is that they are not very smart because they had exaggerated expectations that were unattainable from the beginning given the lack of advertising
it's not the game's fault (even if some fixes reported since the closed beta are missing) and it's not even the players' fault because they spend a lot of money on this game, I see a lot of skins around and the excuse is because the game it's "a little more complicated than average" it doesn't hold up otherwise nobody would have bought baldur gates 3 (and there are things out there like overwatch, apex and lol that aren't as simple as they say) these games and others either had great advertising coverage or exploded through word of mouth and above all coverage from streamers and content creators, Deep rock galctic is legendary for its quality and Hell divers is on the lips of every streamer and youtuber and neither of them had great marketing
the players have done their job and so have the developers, I hope that the higher ups understand this even without asking in Korea (even if they represent a large slice of the market they have a philosophy and tastes on video games that are very different from Westerners)
submitted by Fortesque96 to thefinals [link] [comments]
the second is that they are not very smart because they had exaggerated expectations that were unattainable from the beginning given the lack of advertising
it's not the game's fault (even if some fixes reported since the closed beta are missing) and it's not even the players' fault because they spend a lot of money on this game, I see a lot of skins around and the excuse is because the game it's "a little more complicated than average" it doesn't hold up otherwise nobody would have bought baldur gates 3 (and there are things out there like overwatch, apex and lol that aren't as simple as they say) these games and others either had great advertising coverage or exploded through word of mouth and above all coverage from streamers and content creators, Deep rock galctic is legendary for its quality and Hell divers is on the lips of every streamer and youtuber and neither of them had great marketing
the players have done their job and so have the developers, I hope that the higher ups understand this even without asking in Korea (even if they represent a large slice of the market they have a philosophy and tastes on video games that are very different from Westerners)
2024.05.16 00:50 glebbwy Mold in home, health issues, and mold inspection results
Hello mold subreddit. First time reddit poster here. Thank you in advance for any insight you can offer to my case. In what follows, I'm going to first describe the health journey that led to my mold discoveries and questions, so please bear with me through the health stuff. I have included excessive detail in the hopes that my case might help others navigate possible mold problems.
If you don't feel like reading all the below, the tl:dr version: After struggling with unknown health issues for 15 months, I eventually linked my symptoms to my new home and subsequently discovered very high volatile organic chemical levels. I linked the VOCs to mold. I also had a mold inspection done, and the results are at the bottom of this post. The levels of mold were high in my kitchen and bathroom. However, oddly, the mold levels in the outside control group were much higher than inside. Can anyone help me understand how high my indoor mold levels are? Does anyone know whether the outdoor levels are reasonably normal? Is my specific blend of mold types implicated in neurological symptoms for others? And if anyone has dealt with mold before, do my possible mold symptoms described below seem similar to ones that you've had?
I bought my townhome in late 2022. Within four months, I started having new neurological symptoms. These symptoms started with a postural tremor in my left index finger and thumb. The same hand eventually began to appear smaller and shriveled, especially around my thumb. I also started having extremely frequent muscle twitches and jerks. These twitches take three general forms:
Aside from these neurological symptoms, I also have had frequent hoarseness, sneezing, jaw pain, and headaches. My joints often feel like they are more bony and poppy, especially in my left knee and knuckles. In addition, I've had a lot of issues with one ear on the same side as the shriveled hand. The ear had an apparent infection or cloudiness 12 months ago that went away, it then had recurrent pulsatile tinnitus, and now it just occasionally hurts at random times. There have been many other symptoms.
I have seen two neurologists, an endocrinologist, an ear-nose-throat doctor, and an orthopedic doctor. I've had countless tests done including two electromyographies (EMGs) over my whole body several months apart, an MRI, and a lyme disease blood panel. Every test has been normal, although the orthopedic doctor suggested possible thoracic outlet syndrome. The neurologist said my nerves are quite robust. My borrelia blood panel came back negative, although as a side note I did have a tick bite in early 2022 that caused a rash. I was treated for Lyme with 10 days of doxycycline. The tick bite itself still occasionally flares up red and its timing might be correlated with my symptoms.
Back to the house-- I was on a two week vacation out of state and noticed my twitches go away. Then I saw my arm become more normal sized again and the veins start to come back. I didn't feel the same joint issues, had no hoarseness, lost the headaches. All the symptoms came back as soon as I returned home, but nevertheless after that vacation and subsequent extended trips, I was able to conclude with a reasonable level of confidence that these symptoms are linked to the house. I bought an air filter and an air quality monitor that shows volatile organic chemicals, PM, formaldehyde, and C02.
Using the air quality monitor, I discovered that volatile organic chemicals (VOCs) and formaldehyde were usually abnormally high and sometimes extremely high. VOCs are usually above safety thresholds at >0.5 mg/m3 and formaldehyde >0.1 mg/m3. Sometimes, the VOC levels will stay consistently above 1.8mg/m3. I witnessed them reach a peak level of 5mg/3 in one bedroom late at night when I was woken up by a feeling of shortness of breath. I tried but failed to correlate these high VOCs to electronics, chemical sources in the home, cooking sources, heaters, and cleaning supplies. The way the VOCs would spike all over the house for no apparent reason in the evening helped me rule out some of these other possibilities. I also actively removed other sources.
Eventually, I realized that the VOCs were likely caused by mold, so-called microbial VOCs. The formaldehyde could also be explained by mold. The levels of VOCs would spike on rainy days, when the humidity was high inside, and in the evening. I don't think any other chemical source near the house would display this pattern. It took me a while to reach this conclusion because the mold issue in my house isn't too obvious. The house has always had a slight musty smell, especially if the air is stagnant for a while. The bathroom also has recurring mold growth on a tiles, in the shower, and on the various shower liners. A couple cabinets in the kitchen have always smelled musty. I didn't think these obvious signs of mold growth were that big of a deal, but given the extremely high levels of VOCs I now believe the mold has always been the issue.
Once I realized it was likely mold, I started noticing all the signs. The house is about 100 years old. The prior two owners of this house each moved out within five months. The house is not ventilated except from windows. It sits in a damp area near where water puddles up in the yard. It's mostly solid brick, so the house frame has a way of trapping hot air and releasing a lot of moisture onto the floors each evening. There's also a cheap layer of vinyl flooring throughout that could easily cover up a massive mold problem underneath. Finally, the townhome sits on top of an old shared crawl space that was used as a furnace. It has had known water puddling issues for which reason a vapor guard was installed underneath my first floor.
So, I had a mold inspection done. The results are at the bottom of this post. The bathroom results might be diluted because I left the window open the night before. Nevertheless, both my kitchen and bathroom had mold detected at levels between 6480 - 12,300 spores/m3. Oddly, the outdoor levels of all of the molds were often much higher, 3-6 fold higher than the levels indoors. It was a humid day, but it still seems odd for me that an outdoor space could have higher levels than indoors.
On later reading about my specific mold spores and neurological symptoms, I noticed that the two most elevated groups of spores in my house, ascospores and basidiospores, are the same class as all of the funguses known to have colonized the nervous system of ALS patients according to this published article. Those specific types of fungus found in the nerves of ALS patients are Candida, Malassezia, Fusarium, Botrytis, Trichoderma, and Cryptococcus. It naturally led me to wonder if my chronic als-type neurological symptoms could be caused by some latent fungal infection in my body that gradually improves when I'm away from the home.
Wrapping up this thread, I have a bunch of questions.
submitted by glebbwy to Mold [link] [comments]
If you don't feel like reading all the below, the tl:dr version: After struggling with unknown health issues for 15 months, I eventually linked my symptoms to my new home and subsequently discovered very high volatile organic chemical levels. I linked the VOCs to mold. I also had a mold inspection done, and the results are at the bottom of this post. The levels of mold were high in my kitchen and bathroom. However, oddly, the mold levels in the outside control group were much higher than inside. Can anyone help me understand how high my indoor mold levels are? Does anyone know whether the outdoor levels are reasonably normal? Is my specific blend of mold types implicated in neurological symptoms for others? And if anyone has dealt with mold before, do my possible mold symptoms described below seem similar to ones that you've had?
I bought my townhome in late 2022. Within four months, I started having new neurological symptoms. These symptoms started with a postural tremor in my left index finger and thumb. The same hand eventually began to appear smaller and shriveled, especially around my thumb. I also started having extremely frequent muscle twitches and jerks. These twitches take three general forms:
- The most common is an odd sensation of something wiggling under my skin. These primarily happen in my face, around my mouth, my butt/legs, and ribs.
- A pulsing regular beat in a muscle that lasts for several seconds and in some cases longer. These usually happen near joints, especially just above my elbows and knees. These are almost always visible to the naked eye.
- A sensation of rapid vibrating underneath the skin that lasts briefly. These vibrations are usually not visible but you can feel them if you press a hand over the area.
Aside from these neurological symptoms, I also have had frequent hoarseness, sneezing, jaw pain, and headaches. My joints often feel like they are more bony and poppy, especially in my left knee and knuckles. In addition, I've had a lot of issues with one ear on the same side as the shriveled hand. The ear had an apparent infection or cloudiness 12 months ago that went away, it then had recurrent pulsatile tinnitus, and now it just occasionally hurts at random times. There have been many other symptoms.
I have seen two neurologists, an endocrinologist, an ear-nose-throat doctor, and an orthopedic doctor. I've had countless tests done including two electromyographies (EMGs) over my whole body several months apart, an MRI, and a lyme disease blood panel. Every test has been normal, although the orthopedic doctor suggested possible thoracic outlet syndrome. The neurologist said my nerves are quite robust. My borrelia blood panel came back negative, although as a side note I did have a tick bite in early 2022 that caused a rash. I was treated for Lyme with 10 days of doxycycline. The tick bite itself still occasionally flares up red and its timing might be correlated with my symptoms.
Back to the house-- I was on a two week vacation out of state and noticed my twitches go away. Then I saw my arm become more normal sized again and the veins start to come back. I didn't feel the same joint issues, had no hoarseness, lost the headaches. All the symptoms came back as soon as I returned home, but nevertheless after that vacation and subsequent extended trips, I was able to conclude with a reasonable level of confidence that these symptoms are linked to the house. I bought an air filter and an air quality monitor that shows volatile organic chemicals, PM, formaldehyde, and C02.
Using the air quality monitor, I discovered that volatile organic chemicals (VOCs) and formaldehyde were usually abnormally high and sometimes extremely high. VOCs are usually above safety thresholds at >0.5 mg/m3 and formaldehyde >0.1 mg/m3. Sometimes, the VOC levels will stay consistently above 1.8mg/m3. I witnessed them reach a peak level of 5mg/3 in one bedroom late at night when I was woken up by a feeling of shortness of breath. I tried but failed to correlate these high VOCs to electronics, chemical sources in the home, cooking sources, heaters, and cleaning supplies. The way the VOCs would spike all over the house for no apparent reason in the evening helped me rule out some of these other possibilities. I also actively removed other sources.
Eventually, I realized that the VOCs were likely caused by mold, so-called microbial VOCs. The formaldehyde could also be explained by mold. The levels of VOCs would spike on rainy days, when the humidity was high inside, and in the evening. I don't think any other chemical source near the house would display this pattern. It took me a while to reach this conclusion because the mold issue in my house isn't too obvious. The house has always had a slight musty smell, especially if the air is stagnant for a while. The bathroom also has recurring mold growth on a tiles, in the shower, and on the various shower liners. A couple cabinets in the kitchen have always smelled musty. I didn't think these obvious signs of mold growth were that big of a deal, but given the extremely high levels of VOCs I now believe the mold has always been the issue.
Once I realized it was likely mold, I started noticing all the signs. The house is about 100 years old. The prior two owners of this house each moved out within five months. The house is not ventilated except from windows. It sits in a damp area near where water puddles up in the yard. It's mostly solid brick, so the house frame has a way of trapping hot air and releasing a lot of moisture onto the floors each evening. There's also a cheap layer of vinyl flooring throughout that could easily cover up a massive mold problem underneath. Finally, the townhome sits on top of an old shared crawl space that was used as a furnace. It has had known water puddling issues for which reason a vapor guard was installed underneath my first floor.
So, I had a mold inspection done. The results are at the bottom of this post. The bathroom results might be diluted because I left the window open the night before. Nevertheless, both my kitchen and bathroom had mold detected at levels between 6480 - 12,300 spores/m3. Oddly, the outdoor levels of all of the molds were often much higher, 3-6 fold higher than the levels indoors. It was a humid day, but it still seems odd for me that an outdoor space could have higher levels than indoors.
On later reading about my specific mold spores and neurological symptoms, I noticed that the two most elevated groups of spores in my house, ascospores and basidiospores, are the same class as all of the funguses known to have colonized the nervous system of ALS patients according to this published article. Those specific types of fungus found in the nerves of ALS patients are Candida, Malassezia, Fusarium, Botrytis, Trichoderma, and Cryptococcus. It naturally led me to wonder if my chronic als-type neurological symptoms could be caused by some latent fungal infection in my body that gradually improves when I'm away from the home.
Wrapping up this thread, I have a bunch of questions.
- Does anyone have the same kinds of molds (see below) in their home and have the ability to speak to how problematic my levels are from their own experience?
- Why would the outdoor control be so high? I do compost and garden, but all of the compost is buried underground.
- Is my specific blend of mold types implicated in neurological symptoms?
- Do my symptoms seem similar to mold-related symptoms that you might have had? I'm trying to figure out if mold is a likely culprit or if I should keep seeking help for possible tickborne illness or other issues.
- Should my mold levels be a cause to stay away from this house as much as possible? Should I ever return?
- Do I need to throw away all my belongings like books clothes and sheets?
- Would a very high quality HEPA air purifier make any difference?
- Is there some kind of public health representative that could help me navigate this or a type of mold doctor who could help me investigate the causes of my symptoms and seek the right kinds of medication?
- Do you have any other advice for someone in my situation?
2024.05.16 00:45 Glacialfury [WP] Scavengers like you are not uncommon. The wreckage of the old world was once ripe with treasures. One day, however, you find something you did not expect...
Wastelander
A thin veil of sand blew across the road, danced in erratic swirls over the cracked pavement, and then capered off into the dunes.
Kaelar watched it spin into a small dust devil that swept past the skeletal branches of dead shrubs and the faded remnant of an old sign sagging into the sand. Rocks and bits of concrete jumped from countless pits and holes weathered into the road, kicked out in front of him with each measured step.
The dust devil whirled up the face of a sandy hill and vanished down the other side. He fingered his water skin, still nearly full. Some of the old folk said dust devils could lead you to water. Kaelar had tried once, but all he’d found was more dust.
He returned his attention to the road and what lay at the end. Or rather, what he would do once he arrived. Most of the Old World had hidden troves of valuable artifacts in broken buildings and infrastructure, the decaying crypts that were once people’s homes. But the treasures were dwindling, and the waste was encroaching. Arable land was a unicorn, and clean water was scarce. And there was no shortage of violent gangs roaming the wastes, circling the small ramshackle communities like wolves, watching for any sign of weakness.
Towns were dying.
Hell, the planet was dying, some said. Murdered by the poisons unleashed by her children back before his father’s father’s time. Maybe it was true.
Kaelar put the thought out of his mind and peered through the shimmering heat at the shattered remains of a city rising out of the ash. Mercury, he called it, for he did not know its true name. In the distant past, something had destroyed the city, blasted its buildings and cratered its parks, unalived its people.
Now nothing remained but the dust of shattered dreams. You could walk an entire day and not cross Mercury. Unwise, but you could do it.
He passed another sign, larger than before but just as faded. This one straddled the highway on great metal legs that did not rust. The edges of the road crumbled and sagged into the sand, mirroring the slow decay of Mercury. Nothing grew out here in the waste but sun-bleached bones and stony cliffs.
He walked on.
The city loomed larger and took shape as the hours passed.
He could make out tiny details now. Windows gaping with no glass, rooftops jagged and crumbling, the rusted relics of countless vehicles choking intersections and the bones of an entire city scattered through debris-strewn streets. He detoured around collapsed walls blocking his way and ravines that had recently opened to swallow entire blocks. This took time, precious hours he did not have to spare. Crap.
Kaelar tipped back his wide-brimmed hat and glanced at the sun, blazing overhead. Ten hours til dark. He had to hurry.
Lowering his hat, he took a small sip from his waterskin. It was hot and tasted terrible, but soothed his parched throat. The air was hotter still, dry but stifling, and hard to breathe when the dust was up. Despite this, he wore old leathers, suffered them for the small protection they offered. A scrape could prove deadly.
He adjusted his canvas satchel, more of an extensive collection of mismatched patches than an actual bag, but strong enough to accommodate even the best hauls. His gloves were fingerless, and weighted across the knuckles in case he had need.
His eyes never stopped moving, scanning ahead, probing into the shadows gathered in doorways and alleys, ever wary of the dangers present within the Old World. Wild beasts were the least of his worries. Men were the deadliest creatures of all.
He dusted off his goggles and glanced at his pistol in a worn leather holster belted at his hip. Each cartridge in the gun’s cylinder was worth a week of clean water. He had four left. If I’m right, I’ll have more after today.
Kaelar moved deeper into the city, to the heart of the ruins. His destination was just ahead, a place he’d searched before but never found the heart to explore past the fourth level.
Today, that would change.
A sudden clattering sound came from an alley to his right.
Kaelar instinctively ducked and leaped to press himself against the side of a rusted-out truck. Peering over the hood, he listened; he watched. No movement. He was surprised to find his pistol in his hand, glinting in the sunlight. He didn’t remember drawing it.
His eyes scanned deeper into the alley, past refuse and debris. Nothing.
Kaelar turned, drew in a deep breath and rested on his haunches with his back against the truck. Something had made that sound. Was someone stalking him? Other scavengers could be dangerous. Some would open your veins just for stepping into what they perceived as their territory. Sweat tracked down through the dust on his face. A moment later he decided he couldn’t leave it to chance. Never leave an enemy at your back, his father had told him. That advice had served him well over the years.
There was no movement as far as he could see in any direction facing away from the alley. Just the skeletal girders and broken concrete of a dead city. That left the alley at his back.
He went to his belly and peered under the truck. Nothing. He stayed there for some time, watching and waiting. Sweating.
When nothing showed, he rose to a crouch and slowly advanced into the alley, pistol leading.
It was deserted. There was nothing of value, not a bit of lead. Clattering came from above, faint and distant. Jaw clenched, he holstered his weapon and shimmied up a drain pipe to the roof.
Strange machines made two neat rows on one side and a small shack with a single door on the other. Sunlight soaked into the roof’s black skin, shimmering up in waves. But that wasn’t what held his eye. A second structure rose beside the one on which he stood, snugged tight to it like lovers. The leeward wall sat in the shade, and something clung there to the brick.
Kaelar couldn’t believe his eyes.
His heart leapt for joy. He rushed to the wall, and reached out with a trembling hand to gently brush the white petals of the vines climbing the brick. It was real. It was alive!
“You can’t have them!” Kaelar felt a hot explosion in the back of his head. The world tilted on its side and the roof rushed up to meet him.
A figure stood over him, dark and terrible and haloed by the sunlight.
“Your kind are not welcome here, Wastelander.”
Kaelar reeled with vertigo. He opened his mouth to speak but a heavy boot snapped out and blasted away his world.
It was alive.
submitted by Glacialfury to Glacialwrites [link] [comments]
A thin veil of sand blew across the road, danced in erratic swirls over the cracked pavement, and then capered off into the dunes.
Kaelar watched it spin into a small dust devil that swept past the skeletal branches of dead shrubs and the faded remnant of an old sign sagging into the sand. Rocks and bits of concrete jumped from countless pits and holes weathered into the road, kicked out in front of him with each measured step.
The dust devil whirled up the face of a sandy hill and vanished down the other side. He fingered his water skin, still nearly full. Some of the old folk said dust devils could lead you to water. Kaelar had tried once, but all he’d found was more dust.
He returned his attention to the road and what lay at the end. Or rather, what he would do once he arrived. Most of the Old World had hidden troves of valuable artifacts in broken buildings and infrastructure, the decaying crypts that were once people’s homes. But the treasures were dwindling, and the waste was encroaching. Arable land was a unicorn, and clean water was scarce. And there was no shortage of violent gangs roaming the wastes, circling the small ramshackle communities like wolves, watching for any sign of weakness.
Towns were dying.
Hell, the planet was dying, some said. Murdered by the poisons unleashed by her children back before his father’s father’s time. Maybe it was true.
Kaelar put the thought out of his mind and peered through the shimmering heat at the shattered remains of a city rising out of the ash. Mercury, he called it, for he did not know its true name. In the distant past, something had destroyed the city, blasted its buildings and cratered its parks, unalived its people.
Now nothing remained but the dust of shattered dreams. You could walk an entire day and not cross Mercury. Unwise, but you could do it.
He passed another sign, larger than before but just as faded. This one straddled the highway on great metal legs that did not rust. The edges of the road crumbled and sagged into the sand, mirroring the slow decay of Mercury. Nothing grew out here in the waste but sun-bleached bones and stony cliffs.
He walked on.
The city loomed larger and took shape as the hours passed.
He could make out tiny details now. Windows gaping with no glass, rooftops jagged and crumbling, the rusted relics of countless vehicles choking intersections and the bones of an entire city scattered through debris-strewn streets. He detoured around collapsed walls blocking his way and ravines that had recently opened to swallow entire blocks. This took time, precious hours he did not have to spare. Crap.
Kaelar tipped back his wide-brimmed hat and glanced at the sun, blazing overhead. Ten hours til dark. He had to hurry.
Lowering his hat, he took a small sip from his waterskin. It was hot and tasted terrible, but soothed his parched throat. The air was hotter still, dry but stifling, and hard to breathe when the dust was up. Despite this, he wore old leathers, suffered them for the small protection they offered. A scrape could prove deadly.
He adjusted his canvas satchel, more of an extensive collection of mismatched patches than an actual bag, but strong enough to accommodate even the best hauls. His gloves were fingerless, and weighted across the knuckles in case he had need.
His eyes never stopped moving, scanning ahead, probing into the shadows gathered in doorways and alleys, ever wary of the dangers present within the Old World. Wild beasts were the least of his worries. Men were the deadliest creatures of all.
He dusted off his goggles and glanced at his pistol in a worn leather holster belted at his hip. Each cartridge in the gun’s cylinder was worth a week of clean water. He had four left. If I’m right, I’ll have more after today.
Kaelar moved deeper into the city, to the heart of the ruins. His destination was just ahead, a place he’d searched before but never found the heart to explore past the fourth level.
Today, that would change.
A sudden clattering sound came from an alley to his right.
Kaelar instinctively ducked and leaped to press himself against the side of a rusted-out truck. Peering over the hood, he listened; he watched. No movement. He was surprised to find his pistol in his hand, glinting in the sunlight. He didn’t remember drawing it.
His eyes scanned deeper into the alley, past refuse and debris. Nothing.
Kaelar turned, drew in a deep breath and rested on his haunches with his back against the truck. Something had made that sound. Was someone stalking him? Other scavengers could be dangerous. Some would open your veins just for stepping into what they perceived as their territory. Sweat tracked down through the dust on his face. A moment later he decided he couldn’t leave it to chance. Never leave an enemy at your back, his father had told him. That advice had served him well over the years.
There was no movement as far as he could see in any direction facing away from the alley. Just the skeletal girders and broken concrete of a dead city. That left the alley at his back.
He went to his belly and peered under the truck. Nothing. He stayed there for some time, watching and waiting. Sweating.
When nothing showed, he rose to a crouch and slowly advanced into the alley, pistol leading.
It was deserted. There was nothing of value, not a bit of lead. Clattering came from above, faint and distant. Jaw clenched, he holstered his weapon and shimmied up a drain pipe to the roof.
Strange machines made two neat rows on one side and a small shack with a single door on the other. Sunlight soaked into the roof’s black skin, shimmering up in waves. But that wasn’t what held his eye. A second structure rose beside the one on which he stood, snugged tight to it like lovers. The leeward wall sat in the shade, and something clung there to the brick.
Kaelar couldn’t believe his eyes.
His heart leapt for joy. He rushed to the wall, and reached out with a trembling hand to gently brush the white petals of the vines climbing the brick. It was real. It was alive!
“You can’t have them!” Kaelar felt a hot explosion in the back of his head. The world tilted on its side and the roof rushed up to meet him.
A figure stood over him, dark and terrible and haloed by the sunlight.
“Your kind are not welcome here, Wastelander.”
Kaelar reeled with vertigo. He opened his mouth to speak but a heavy boot snapped out and blasted away his world.
It was alive.