Available 6/1 - 9/31 -- option to renew lease afterwards
Hi all! I'm looking to sublet my current studio in Sheridan Park, off the Wilson red line.
This is a great studio with lots of natural light and a separate kitchen -- I'm only moving because I found a deal that is too good to pass up elsewhere in the neighborhood.
Some details:

• Rent is $1095
  
• Pets allowed ($30 pet rent)
  
• Must pass credit check + have 3x income. There is an application fee for this ($60) - but you will avoid a move-in fee if you choose to renew lease :)
  
• Unit will be unfurnished
  
• about 5 min walk to red/purple line, 15 to brown, right next to 78 & 81 stops, close to 22 and 36.
  
• Laundry in basement.
  

Reach out if you're interested and I can send you some pictures.

Blachowicz here.
Kept yah’ waiting, huh? Heh, sorry about that one, but I can explain. As we all know… we lost a few good men the last few months.
That’s the brutal part of a hybrid war like ours: We’re fighting a foe unconventional, with half our arsenal tied down because those who grant us authorization are either in disbelief of the true facts, or scared… or already assimilated. That being said our momentum recently was a change not seen in years, and because of that… despite the losses we have garnered, we were close through a breakthrough. One last night Krol pulls myself and other two must trusted squad leads into the back of our COP. There is one of our equipment cages, surrounded by m-bitter radios, tripods, and several hundred thousand dollars of equipment he brought us around a simple worn table. Before us he laid a map of eastern poland… red markings indicating cells that seemed to dot the countryside like a pestilence, or used to… as deep gashes of advance from raids had trisected their lines, even if ones did pop up in the interior.
It was a back and forth; an outside virus infecting Polska at it’s heart, and we were the antibodies sent to drive them out. To which… Major Krol points to one of the largest symbol on the map: a dark red diamond, the NATO symbol for an enemy unit, deep inside of an untouched wooded area, adjacent to a mountain ridge. Several jagged lines indicated entrenchment, with red horizontal lines indicating possible enemy control… or our contested control, for over 20kms surrounding it. Letting us all look, the Major lit himself a cigarette.
“Sir, you sure it’s wise to smoke in here with the dive tanks just behind us” 1st Squad’s lead quipped. “Fuck off” Krol dryly said.
“Alright… this is it… this is the one we’ve been searching for for years, this is the nucleus my predecessor commander died trying to find” he says, pointing to it. Not far from Zamosc, it was almost touching the border with Belarus, the contested area indicating the Strigoi did operate over it… indicating one of the largest spill through points. “-It’s an old soviet bunker, made during their 1960s initiative it was designed to hold the munitions and manpower of several units in the event of a NATO first strike” Krol explained. “It’s gotta be massive then…” I said gazing at the map; “Didn’t the army demolish all of the old soviet hulks near Belarus to prevent any infiltrations?” 3rd Squad’s lead asked. “National Police took the effort over… and by extension, the Strigoi. It was halfway demo’ed before they burrowed into it and have been using it as a bridgehead ever since. This is it…” Krol said. He looked around at all of us, a sense of certainty I had never seen before as he blew smoke from his nostrils; “We’ve been fucking around in the dark for so long, it’s hard to believe we’ve made any progress, but this is it. With this gone, this will set them back over a decade and the momentum will finally shift into our favor… into Poland’s… -Europe’s”.
I swear there was almost a flash of joy, of pride in his eyes and a phantom of a smirk before reality set back in “That being said… we can’t leave this to chance, especially not something as important as this. We’re going to have to go there ourselves… clear through every inch of that place, and tear it all down, piece by piece. I will be straight with you all… when we go, there will be some of us that aren’t coming back. -but we are going… a whole generation is counting on us, and unborn billions rely on us to succeed”. We all nodded, a silent agreement washing over us as we took this upon ourselves. Echo-1 spoke up: “So… They’re authorizing a raid? How big?”. “We’re rolling in as a hard target, armor, explosives, and air support” Krol answered, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Aviation? How the hell did we get that approved, we’ve gotten attempts shot down four times due to those leeches” I said in disbelief. “There’s too much evidence here pointing to the human trafficking tied to their actions… We’ve finally got too much weight pinning them down, to keep the hammer from slamming into their necks” Krol chuckled. He looked around “Any questions?”. “When?” Echo-3 asked. “Three hours. We’re hitting them in the dead of night, only time we could get the birds authorized. Get your boys ready. We’re rolling out” Krol said, dying the cigarette bud out on the table. I can’t begin to tell you the euphoria we felt leaving that cage, as our men started arriving, they did so a lot quicker, and with their heads a lot higher than they had in weeks. As Second Squad’s lead we were going to be one of the main arms of attack into the bunker, thus I made sure we had a breacher loaded with enough thermite, charges, and tools to cut through anything. Our shield bearer we ready to go, as was our assaulters, grenadiers, and machine gunner. I double checked each and everyone of their weapons; ensuring the feeder paws of our squad’s belt fed were intact, making sure every breach charge we had was properly set and packed. There was going to be no mistakes, no slip ups. The margin of error needed to be the smallest it had ever been for us tonight if we were going to make the gore spilt worth it.
Finally… there on the outside of the building, the bright LED lights kept the darkness of the ensuing night at bay as the roar of our MRAPs could be heard. It was said once that war is 99% peace, and 1% chaos, they were right. The slow periods where the blood slowed and the doubt creeped in was the worst… yet we all kept it at bay. We needed to, there was going to be no backing down tonight. All three squads were up, all of us ready to go… we circled up… short stares and shaky nods telling us one things: We were in this together, till the end… the finish line so many before us had been searching for, we were being granted tonight.
A single set of footsteps could be heard as we turned, Major Krol stepping into the center. He took the last drag of a cigarette, throwing it down to the ground and stamping it out onto the damp concrete. He looked around… his chin strap blowing in the weak air as he met everyone of our gazes… then mine… then looked around. “I want you to remember every detail of tonight, as you have every other night… when you are situationally aware, scanning for the enemy, liberating the subjugated, I want you to remember the sting of anxiety, the shake of adrenaline, the chill of the bunker, the heat of your weapon as it cuts them down… because tonight we are going to write every fine detail of our victory, their defeat, in history…” Krol’s words echoed deep into our souls. He paused for a moment, staring around he looked down… a small pause before he said “When you are ruthless in combat, remember to be patient, and reserved in victory. This conflict is for our existence… a lot of innocents have bled due to the mistakes of those who failed to listen, a lot of our brothers are now laid under because we had to bridge the gap of uncertainty with their lives. We remember them now… but in an hour? We forget them… when we raise our barrels, when we cut into those foes, and we liberate Polska!! This does not end tonight, but history puts everything in it’s place, and patience is the companion of the victor… All of our hard work will be cemented, no matter the obstacles we face in that darkness… no matter the demons, the blood, no matter what incomprehensible horrors, we will make them comprehend that to invade our land, to bleed our people, the justice will be paid in full… Load up. It’s time*”*.
The purpose in our steps was heavy as we climbed the back ramps of the MRAPS; Four of the heavily armored vehicles, one for each squad with an additional for attached personnel including our JTAC, the term means Joint Terminal Attack Controllers. With air support requisitioned to us for this operations, there needs to be a definite liaison on the ground who can directly communicate to the birds, and coordinate their fire and progress. I’d worked with many of them in the past, resourceful guys, quick thinking though I guess that comes with the position they hold of needing to quickly figure out what bombs to drop, on which target, at what precise points, whilst taking contact. He loaded in the lead vehicle with Major Krol… and soon, our convoy kicked off.
The drive was several hours as myself and my squad sat in the back of that forty ton goliath, the rumbling of the engine keeping us awake as the crap heater fought to keep the cold from the outside frost from setting in. I looked around to each of them, some were catching some sleep because even with the circumstances… better to get all the energy you can, than to stay awake for nothing. Others were checking their weapons… My gunner locked eyes with me, the same one from the village extraction… many of these men I had trained with for a while now, fought with for months.
We may have met on unconventional circumstances but those in JW Grom thrive on austere chance and create opportunity from scratch. I was pulled from my thought by the sound of a transmission, my peltors were set up for dual comms so I could both receive information from the Major and other leads, whilst communicating with my team.
Krol himself sent out: [“Approximately 10 minutes from enemy AO…”]. As the rest of the squads acknowledged, I quickly sent out [“Echo-2 Copies”], before kicking the boots of any of them sleeping: “Look alive, we’re here”. Through the exterior net armor of the MRAPS, and the bars protecting the small reinforced windows, we could barely see jack shit. I reached up, turning off the overhead light as we all looked through our nods to scan the outside. A dark wall of dense trees was shown before us, making it difficult to see… in addition to night vision capabilities we had also requisitioned ourselves some thermals… when mounted onto rifles they were bulky, made it a pain to aim down quickly, but considering the supernatural capabilities of spotting our foes we needed every advantage necessary.
I flipped out one of my tubes… scanning the outside with my scope. I looked over to one of my assaulters who had been assigned to man the turret of the MRAP, seated near the view screen as he controlled the 50. Cal. Each of the vehicle turrets had been assigned a direction to cover… we took the 9 o’clock, the left flank. “See anything?” I asked. He shook his head; “Negative… wait… I’ve got two cold signatures, front left heading to our rear”.
I quickly scanned the far tree line, at approximately 60 meters off our left were two cold signatures… followed by a third heading to our front… then another. They were surrounding us, moving at speeds so fast I could barely keep my reticle on them. Is this what the National Police saw? What they faced at that lodge without the benefit of a foot of heavy armor protecting them on all sides. Then… suddenly. Something slammed into the side of our MRAP so hard, it caused it to shake. From over the leader comms, Echo-3 quickly shouted [“Contact right!! 4 hostiles!!”].
One of the Strigoi… so bold, had charged and slammed into the side of our MRAP. I quickly looked to see the figure, a dark blue mass of cold energy through my thermal, back away without so much as a stagger… as they tried to flee into the woods, the white hot justice of Echo-3’s gun fired at them, cutting them down. “Blachowicz I’ve got a few breaking for our vic” my man on the turret called out, I spun around, spotting out the window.
Just then, Major Krol announced [“weapons free, watch and shoot for targets of opportunity…”]. I turned to him… “take those fuckers out-”. Without hesitation my vic’s turret began to quickly target them, and through the darkness I saw a stream of outgoing fire bisect one of them, the ISR of the black blood freaking out the optic so badly it didn’t know what temperature to register it as… but it did register it. As another was cut down, one broke through the tree line and latched onto the side of our MRAP. The thing tore at one of the outer net armor panels, usually made to stop RPGs. It grabbed at the bars near the windows, tearing one off… I lowered my rifle as we locked eyes through the reinforced window.
The thing… the Strigoi looked at me, skin cracked as putrefied muscle fibers seemed to leak through dead flesh. It’s teeth were corroded and worn down to sharp fragments, alongside newly mutated fangs that messily protrude from the jaws. Even through the thick walls of the MRAP I could hear it’s roar, as it then tried to punch it’s way through… it cracked the outer coating of the vehicle… but it wasn’t getting anywhere near. My machine gunner, seated next to me, seemed to chuckle at the sight, quippily saying “Yeah… fuck you too”. It’s then our vehicle lurched upwards, as we began to climb the small incline of the bunker. I knew the layout, mapped it in our head, the main entrance was built into the rocky side of an old cliff meaning we could easily set up a defensive perimeter around it, a horseshoe. Krol’s vehicle was first, taking to the right as Echo-3’s MRAP followed. My vehicle, third, left the incline and took a left and… that’s where things got complicated.
We’re still trying to work out what happened but… from what Joakim says his drone captured. Right when the MRAP turned, several of the monsters quickly slammed into the side of the vehicle, as another more bulkier one, pushed at it’s undercarriage. The result.. Was the 40 ton armored vehicle tipped over. It wasn’t uncommon, hell in some cases a well placed IED, a good shot with a recoilless rifle, have been known to tip over Oshkoshs and Maxpros all the time. But this beast? Needless to say we barely had a second to comprehend it as it leaned to the left; “Grab on to something-” is all I had time to shout. A mess of gear and men spilled onto one side of the vehicle as it slammed into the old gravel and dirt.
Several of my assaulters, my grenadier planted right ontop of myself and the others as we came to a stop. Someone’s knee slammed directly into the side of my skull, causing me to dazily bob in and out of consciousness as my face was smushed against the glass of one of the windows.
Through my peltors, the other squads were erratic;
[“Echo-2’s vehicle is down!!”].
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2… Echo-3 to Echo-2…”].
Krol’s voice came through the comms;
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-2… Fuc-... Echo-1 secure Echo 2’s flank, Echo-3”].
[“Echo-3 to other units, they’re spilling through, I’ve got several enemy combatants converging on Echo-2’s vehicle”].
I pushed the legs of my grenadier off my head as I fought to my hands and knees, unfucking my nods as I looked around… “Fuck it… we’re going lights on, shield your eyes” I muttered as I reached for the overhead lights and flipped them on. The bright LEDs bathed the inside of the vehicle as we all gained our bearings, a mess of multicam, gear, and weapons as we quickly pushed each other off. My gunner caught as he fought to realign his promask, from what I gathered one of the assaulters had landed directly into his gun, pushing it directly into his jugular, as pulled back at the rubber and coughed, freeing up his esophagus. We didn’t have time to think however… the sound of bending metal caught our attention… as the back ramp door of the MRAP was ripped clean off. I could barely believe it but as the white light of the MRAP’s interior poured to the outside, a hulking mass leaned in, the dead flesh on it’s face nearly fallen off as the hideous Strigoi leaned inside.
Without hesitation I aimed took aim, yelling “Keep to the deck!!” to any of those inbetween myself and the invader as I opened fire. A burst of full auto fire tore through it’s collar and neck, my men quickly clung to either sides of the fallen MRAP as a few more fired out. As the thing backed up, a blast of .50 cal fire quickly tore it to shreds, along with several others as I realized they were fuckin swarming over the outside of our vehicle. Echo-3’s vehicle continued to carefully fire on the Strigoi on the outside, the sounds of .50 cal ricocheting off the outside of our armor was enough to make the pucker factor set in.
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2”].
[“This is Echo-2, we’re green on ammo, equipment, men”].
[“Roger, we’re shifting fire, exit the vehicle”].
“Hurry up let’s go!!” I barked to my men, leading the way as I staggered out. I turned on my peq, taking aim at silhouettes in the brush as I began to fire. The sounds of machine guns lighting up the brush, as a sea of growls, howls, and incomprehensible roars fired back at us was the ambient noise of the night. My men quickly exited, my gunner being the last as he and I pulled back to the rest of the defensive perimeter. I set in my men to take up the frontal security, as 3rd squad took the right flank, 1st squad to the left. Major Krol and the JTAC were bickering with each other; “How far out are the birds”. “They’re entering airspace now…” Joakim said, already scanning his smart book.
I asked “What’ve we got?”. He then flipped through… to the NATO combined arms segment, quippily saying; “Apaches…”. This caused me to pause as Echo-3 turned their head whilst directing their squad’s fire “The hell… where did we get apaches from?”. “The Americans… they volunteered” Krol said dismissively as he took aim at the darkness, firing off a controlled trio. “Volunteered? They’re aware of what’s going on?” I asked.
Krol seemed to stop, glancing back at me before returning his focus “There’s a lot more going on than you realize, Blachowicz… Prep the breach, you and 1st are going on”.
I quickly pulled my breacher off the line, securing some thermite as the reinforced bunker door wasn’t going to go as easily as a conventional door breach would. 1st Squad pulled back, stacking up and preparing themselves to be the first in. All the while… Joakim gave his firing solution; “Alpha Hotel Two Five Nine, This is Bravo-4…… Type 2….”.
I snapped to my right, watching as a Strigoi managed to dark across the clear gravel field, only to be cut down by my gunner, the peq’s laser marking the burst as it tore through the beasts’ hips, as it hit the ground and still continued to claw, another GROM operator took aim and fired into it’s skull. Joakim popped up to his feet…. “Marking laser, high power…”. He then pulled out a target marking laser… if you’ve watched night operations, you’ve probably seen them.
The green laser than as it says on the label, marks targets. The pattern of which can vary… if it’s a point target, it’ll usually lasso an area, or remain on target until the target is removed with extreme prejudice. If its close air support, then it’ll be a line of the general area… and Joakim damn near marked the entire perimeter around us. He quickly pocketed the tool, turning back to Krol; “Don’t go past 20 meters unless you want to be liquidated”.
With that… 2nd and 1st stacked up at the door as 3rd squad took up the perimeter security. As Major Krol went over to Echo-1… I saw them. A single blinking IR strobe from the beasts as they moved on the far off horizon, converging from several angles… and fired. The sound of the Apache’s main gun, the M230, truly sounds like the hammer of god… the 30mm cannon shot through the dark sky, lighting it up as we saw three incoming streams tear up the woods. Only then as the sound broke did we start to hear their rotors as they broke and began to circle, firing again… then… Joakim dipped his head and looked to Krol; [“Foxtrot Mike, hang onto your teeth…”]. One of the Apaches fired off a AGM-114… a Hellfire. I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye as the Apache from our right flank fired off at a target approximately 200 meters off. A fireball lit up the forest as the horrendous roar echoed throughout… then went silent.
Echo-3 scanned the horizon carefully;
[“Echo-3 to Echo-Lead, enemy contact is starting to die down”].
[“Maintain perimeter, Close Air is to maintain fire mission until we are boots up, Break…”].
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-1, condition white has been met. Proceeds”]. I saw Echo-1 and his men quickly stack up close to the wall and gesture to me; Breaching. I quickly pulled my stack back against the wall as his and mine breacher quickly hit their actuators. Now under normal circumstances, it doesn’t take much for thermite to melt the locks off of a metal surface, in fact it’s a more precise took as alternative means get real medieval like saws, pry bars… we weren’t in the mood for precision, we need to breach their little lair, and drag them out. The sound of several pounds of hellfire burning through the metal could be heard around the corner as a sea of white and red sparks flew out… after several seconds, two of our men tossed a fragmentation grenade and a nine-bang through the opening… a series of concussive blasts and a large explosion rang out.
Echo-1 and his men maneuvered. 1st Squad quickly converged as we followed them in.
Stepping through the black wall of smoke, the dark abyss of the interior was illuminated in a white light as entered barrels raised. Shots rang out as several of the beasts near the entrance were cut down, though not immediately, rounds disconnected the shoulder of one of them, leading to their arm hanging limply by a single tendon as they roared… another series of rounds putting them down. What greeted us was a messy concrete hell of rust and debris, fecal matter, trash, and all kinds of obstacles laid in our way, our boots sticking to the floor. I thank every god we had promasks that night. I called my shield bearer up, 2nd squad leapfrogging ahead to take the next corridor as 1st squad checked their weapons.
One of my men mule kicked the metal door ahead, twice, finally the latch gave away as we tossed in a grenade. A horrifying roar was cut off as an M67 shook the walls of the ancient soviet mausoleum, frag and spall kicked off the walls as I moved in right behind my shield man. The cramped russian design meant there was barely enough space for three people, and that’s three normal people, not in 50kgs of kit, moving slowly and maneuvering against creatures of the dark. Still… we moved forward, my shield bearer and I pushing the pace as two stacked of either squad formed on either wall.
As we passed doorways they flowed in… “Door Left!!”, “Door Right!!”. “Move!!”.
Two men entered each side, no gunshots, we moved up, a roar came.
“Door left!!-”. A series of gunshots came out as we continued to push forward.
“Two down!!”. “Confirm them” Krol commanded, as a series of gunshots run out in response. From one of the doorways, a Strigoi emerged… a female… clumps of hair had been ripped from her decaying skull, as her blooded eyes locked on myself and my shieldman. The skin on her hands had been tore down to the point where barely her bones and tendons remain… looking like huge talons as she roared and lunged at us. He fired off his pistol, though the rounds did little to stop her as she pushed against our stack.
“Fuck!!” he muttered, somehow her strength caused him to stagnate, holding up the advance… fuck that. I shoved the muzzle of my MK18 into her ribcage, flipping the weapon to auto as I fired of round after round. The 5.56 salvo disconnecting her spinal column, causing her to fall as I continued to fire, along with a man to our right and left as the stacks reformed as we pushed to the end of the hall. I fell back, dropping the magazine and loading a fresh one, like clockwork a GROM Operator from 1st squad took my place. Krol was beside me as we approached the end of the hall.
[“-Prep an entry”] I radioed to my breacher, a comrade handed him one of the charges from his back panel as he took to the door, quickly securing it. We all moved as far back as we could, look away, exhale. The blast knocked metal and wood in all directions, scrapping against our uniforms and kit as we made our way in and what laid before us was… it used to be the center atrium of one of these bunkers. Soviet’s loved their grandiose designs, the complex was supposed to be a circular room around a central planning table… instead. It had been turned into some sort of church. Runes and old eastern Romuva pagan symbols written in black ink and blood across the walls, old rotten filing cabinets, long receipt terminals. In the center… several of the Strigoi were kneeling before the table where someone had been tied down, flayed, and… shared amongst the group. They rose to their feet, we aimed our barrels…
The ladder amongst turned to us… his skin wasn’t cracked, or flayed, it was smooth… it still looked dead as the body on the table but it seemed more… accustomed to it. I don’t know… evolved? Under the surface however I could see it’s darkened veins pumping whatever cursed blood ran through them as it locked two blood red eyes onto each of us. It’s nose had long since been turn off, exposing boney nostrils to the open air as it seemed to smirk. All across it’s body were the same symbols on the walls, in every cell… markings of death, of rebirth, of assimilation… From behind this seemingly Alpha emerges another figure I had never seemed before… dressed in a white cloak with a deer head.
"So they've followed the trail... they're too late" the Deer headed individual spoke, definitely not from here, a dialect similar to an Americans but... aristocratic? Each word was drawn out, assurance as if they had everything mapped down to our actions. They didn’t sound like they were from Poland or the east.
“Doesn’t matter…” the Alpha growled… and then, it lunged at us. Quickly breaking from their ground it slammed into my shield man knocking both him and myself at the ground as it displayed an intense feat of strength. Around us I could see several of the Strigoi leap at our comrades… though to no fruitful endeavor as I could see one GROM operator cut two down, as another got into a hand to hand confrontation… my breacher, crafty as they were, reached back and slammed one of the prybars of his kit into the skull of the beast.
The Alpha however was not content as it threw away the 90lb shield, sending it flying across the room as it grabbed my comrade by the skull. I quickly kicked up at it, firing my MK18 into it’s body as the rounds pierced it’s gray and rune covered flesh. The thing simply seemed to chuckle… that was until Major Krol blasted away at the side of it’s head, the alpha turned… and it’s smirk turned to a scowl when face to face with the major. A knowing pause almost like they had done this dance before…
The creature lunged, locking up with Major Krol as it swung and slammed railing. Krol didn’t back down however as he pushed against the creature, hiptossing it to the ground even as it tore at his armor and gear. But the beast pulled, both of them rolled and the Major was on his back as the thing reached for his neck. I fought to a kneel, firing into the creature messily with my MK18, trying not to hit my commander… then…
Click. A sound sends a chill up the spine of every warfighter during a firefight.
My gun ran dry. I dropped the magazine, looking to load another, but the thing came up and with one of it’s claws, sliced deep into my cheek, through the pro mask. I could feel my own blood go flying through the air as I landed hard on my back plate, spitting out red iron as I quickly tried to adjust my mask. Through my fogged up, blood covered lense… I saw my shield man raise his pistol, firing into the skull of the thing staggering it with a roar. Krol came from behind, drawing his knife he sunk it deep into the neck of it…. I reached for my rifle, forcing a new magazine in and damn near punching the bold release. ““Sir, down!!” I shouted, Krol rolled away, back to his own rifle as I fired. So did my comrade as he continued to fire his pistol… so did the Major as he fired his rifle. All of us chewing through that apex predator of darkness, that beast… the leader that had been preying on our people for so long. Layer by layer, muscle group by bone… eventually… the alpha landed on whatever was left of his back.
The silence of the fight died down as all of us checked our surroundings, GROM Operators putting controlled pairs in the heads and nerve stems of any Strigoi laying around… I flicked my weapon onto safe, letting it hang as I pulled off my mask. I dared not touch the wound on my face… the pain nearly crippling me if it wasn’t sheer will pushing me through, and adrenaline doing all it could to subdue it. The sound of the apaches continuing to lay hate drew us from our moment of contemplation as the Major went back to work; [“Confiscate any info, burn the rest…”]. He turned back to me as I shoved my damaged M50 mask back into it’s bag, chuckling as he looked at the sight; “You need a medevac, Blachowicz?” he quipped.
I shook my head, barely able to speak as I muttered; “Negative sir…”. The two of us scanned the room as my shield bearer went to collect his defense implement turned 90lb projectile, we scanned the center of the room, checking and confirming bodies, until we got to the last one alive. His white gown was soaked in red crimson and black ooze, as his dear head was mangled from bullet fire and impact from falling on it. I swear… the way his blood poured out of it though made me wonder if it was a mask. I gave it no second thoughts as he looked to Krol; “You… you can’t stop this, they’ve already-”.
The Major was in no mood for communication as his rifle snapped up and fired off three rounds to the body, four the head. The violent yet quick salvo ending the cultists life, I looked down at it, then to him as he remarked; “Have your squad drag him out to the front, burn the rest”. I stood alongside him, looking down as the sight of it’s deer head was both captivating and horrifying… the curiosity in me wanting to look closer at it fighting the primal instinct I had to burn the thing to ash. “-Haven’t seen one of those before…” I muttered, thinking the Major had an answer.
He didn’t. Krol saying “Neither have I…” shortly before he walked away, was what truly shook my soul about that entire night. Victory stood firm in our hearts that night as we stood outside of the bunker. The night sky burning with fire and white phosphorus as we watched the ruin burn from the inside from the other side of the lot. In the distance, the Apaches continued to scan and circle the forests, no longer firing…. Which meant they had driven any or turned to glass any enemy combatants within a four miles, probably both, more than likely the latter. Echo-1 patted me on the shoulder as we stood there, soaking it all in, though Krol looked none to pleased. “In the time it took us to take this one down, they’ll be trying to set up three more cells… that being established…” he said, looking to either of us, then to Echo-3. “-Hell of a thing we did tonight, been waiting for this one for a decade, cleanly, maybe more… but no time to rest on our laurels… we’ll have another task for us as soon as we’re boots down back home” he said, to which his eyes followed mine, the body of whatever cultist that was zipped up in a black body bag beside the wheel of one of the MRAPs. The fire from the bunker casting an orange hue over it’s shiny jet black outside, something didn’t sit right with me… “That wasn’t a Strigoi…” I said to Krol.
“That’s very clear…” the Major said, shoving his mask under his arm and lighting a cigarette. “So… someone’s helping them?” I asked. The meer notion of it shook me to my core, sickened me. This parasite was already badly infecting Europa, Polska… if it was spread like this throughout the world. Krol settled my nerves: “We’ll be ready… It’s not just us anymore”. As he said that, I realized what he meant… my eyes looking to the Apaches as they started to form up, leaving the areas as their thunderous propellers melted into the night’s calm, unnerving ambience.
It’s been a couple of weeks since then, Echo Detachment has been busy. We’ve gained good ground against the enemy and honestly I think in a few years, we might see a much larger change. For now… we must keep going, that being said the Strigoi aren’t the only ones we’ve been combating. Recently we’ve made contact with of some sort of extermination coalition, they’ve known about the Strigoi, and others plaguing the world, the level of corruption and corrosion on society goes deep. Regardless a lot of the units we’ve been working with are apart of NATO, such as this “4th Special Forces Group” of the American Military. I don’t know where the road from here leads, but we’ve gotten momentum on our side, finally. Just remember… these things are out there, in every town, every city, every nation… preying and waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, so they can take you and replace you.
Watch your back, and stay safe.
For now, Blachowicz signing out. Until next time

Long story short, I am considering moving into a rental house that offers a “smart home package” that includes Dwelo smart locks, lights, and thermostats. This package also include fiber internet service so I am considering taking the package (I do however feel very on edge about the idea of management having access to my smart home… that’s another conversation for another day).
My question is, can Dwelo be used with home assistant? Does this depend on how management has everything set up? I would prefer to just set up my own internet service and handle my own smart home setup, but the way it is worded makes it sound like I have to buy the package to access the Dwelo devices so it’s all confusing to me. This sounds like a BS excuse for an upcharge to me.
I saw a few similar posts in the sub but they were several years old.

Longtime owner of Lenovo laptops (thinkpads, Yoga730-15) and have been happy. Main uses are image processing for biomedical research, light coding, and web browsing. I don't game.
Looking for a new laptop and work is willing to pay for anything around the 2k mark. I think the Lenovo Yoga Pro 9i with the Intel Ultra9 185H processor, 32Gb ram, 1tb SSD would be a good fit. Also comes with NVIDIA GeForce 4050 which I would likely not upgrade to the 4060. Debating the screen upgrade to mini-LED from the standard IPS display, wondering if anyone has any comment here. Cost would be 1800-1900USD
Major pro is sticking with Lenovo and ease of transferring current system onto another similar device.
Looking at reviews and in store though I was impressed by the Dell XPS 15. For this system I would get it with the Intel i9 13th gen, 32Gb Ram, 1TB SSD, and because I would end up getting the OLED display looks like I they will only sell with NVIDA GeForce 4060. Cost is 2199 USD. A similar configuration but without the OLED display (FHD+) and running an I7 13620H would cost 1700.
Wondering if anyone has any thoughts on which they recommend. I'm inclined to stick with Lenovo and the 9i Pro, though marketed toward "content creators" -which I am not seems, like it would be a good fit. That said, I liked the OLED display on the XPS in store and the reviews I can find on the XPS are almost all positive.

Minerva is a limited time vendor that shows up in the wasteland with end game plans being sold at a discounted price!
However her appearance on May 16th will be somewhat special, meaning she will be selling items from her past 3 rotations! It's a super sale essentially!
View the link below if you want to know when she will appear exaxtly, and when, as well as planning on what to purchase/save/farm for; before they are gone until her designated rotations and if you want to bookmark it for future appearances! Her location also changes depending on the dates! (P.S: Go buy an extra 300 gold bullion from the upstairs vendor in WayWard for 6,000 caps if you've beat the main storyline! You can get an extra 300 gold bullion weekly through the vendor upstairs in WayWard!)
https://www.falloutbuilds.com/fo76/minerva/
Plans being sold on May 16th!
Sale #21 Plan: Gauss minigun
Plan: Gauss pistol aligned short barrel
Plan: Gauss pistol drum magazine
Plan: Gauss pistol refined receiver
Plan: Mechanic’s Best Friend
Plan: Medium Supply Crate
Plan: Protective lining Secret Service underarmor
Plan: Shielded lining Secret Service underarmor
Plan: Thorn armor chest piece
Plan: Thorn armor left arm
Plan: Thorn armor left leg
Plan: Thorn armor right arm
Plan: Thorn armor right leg
Sale #22 Plan: Lighter build Secret Service armor limbs
Plan: Plasma caster
Plan: Secret Service underarmor
Plan: T-65 calibrated shocks
Plan: T-65 jet pack
Plan: T-65 rusty knuckles
Plan: The Gutter
Plan: Ultra-light build Secret Service armor limbs
Plan: War glaive flaming blade
Plan: War glaive shock blade
Plan: Water well
Plan: Whistle in the Dark
Sale #23 Plan: Brotherhood of Steel Minigun Paint
Plan: Slocum Joe’s Power Armor Paint
Plan: Arctic Marine Left Arm
Plan: Arctic Marine Left Leg
Plan: Arctic Marine Right Arm
Plan: Arctic Marine Right Leg
Plan: Arctic Marine Torso
Plan: Arctic Marine Armor Helmet
Plan: Wendigo Tube
Plan: Meat Bag Stash Box
Plan: Gauss Minigun
Plan: Crusader Pistol

New Chapter on every MWF (Monday, Wednesday,Friday)
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Chapter 20: The Storm's Fury
Gribble huddled in the depths of the cave, his heart pounding wildly as the fierce thunderstorm raged outside. The heavy rain and ear-splitting thunder created a scary symphony, unlike anything Gribble had ever heard before. Each booming thunderclap made the cave walls shake, and small rocks fell from the ceiling. Gribble's eyes darted around the small space, looking for any sign of safety, but the storm's anger seemed to fill every nook and cranny. Fear gripped his heart as he worried that the whole hillside might cave in, trapping him alive in the cave. The damp air was thick with the smell of wet dirt and the sharp tang of fear, and Gribble's skin tingled with goosebumps as the temperature dropped. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stay warm and calm his frazzled nerves, but the storm's power only seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.
The shadowy figure stood tall at the mouth of the cave, its form unmoving despite the heavy rain that pounded the outside. Gribble squinted his eyes, trying to figure out what the creature was through the curtain of darkness and the never-ending rain, but the details stayed hidden. The figure's posture was steady and scary, its broad shoulders and muscular build hinting at a tough enemy. Gribble's heart raced as he watched the figure, his mind imagining all sorts of terrifying possibilities. The creature's stillness was creepy, as if it was waiting for just the right moment to attack. A wave of dread washed over Gribble, and he instinctively pressed himself further into the cave's shadows, desperate to avoid being seen. The figure's presence was a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked beyond the cave's walls, and Gribble's survival instincts kicked into high gear as he thought about his next move.
A blinding flash of lightning tore through the night sky, filling the cave with an eerie, otherworldly light. For a split second, the creature's identity was revealed, and Gribble's eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight before him. Standing at the cave's entrance was a dark blue Thundercat, its muscular body rippling with power beneath its sleek, electric blue fur. The Thundercat's eyes gleamed with a predatory intensity, reflecting the lightning's flash like two pools of melted gold. Gribble's gaze was drawn to the creature's long, razor-sharp sabertooth fangs, which glinted menacingly in the momentary light. The sight of the Thundercat sent a wave of primal fear rushing through Gribble's veins, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. The stories he had heard of these legendary beasts paled in comparison to the reality that stood before him, and Gribble knew that he was facing a creature of unimaginable strength and ferocity.
Gribble's panic reached a fever pitch, his breath coming in short, labored gasps as he stared at the Thundercat. The tales of these feared creatures flooded his mind – whispers of the electric sparks that danced through their fur, of their immense strength that was said to rival even the most fearsome Owlbear. Gribble's heart pounded against his ribcage, and he could feel the cold sweat beading on his forehead despite the chill in the air. He knew that he was facing a daunting adversary, one that could easily overpower him in a head-on confrontation. The odds of survival seemed to dwindle with each passing second, and Gribble's mind raced as he desperately tried to come up with a plan. The Thundercat's presence loomed over him like a suffocating shadow, and Gribble could feel the weight of its gaze boring into him, even from across the cave. He understood that he must act quickly and decisively if he hoped to escape this encounter with his life.
Reacting on instinct, Gribble called upon his innate power to conjure bean-sized fireballs. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a barrage of the tiny, flaming projectiles hurtling towards the cave entrance, where they burst into brilliant flashes of light upon impact. The fiery assault illuminated the cave, casting dancing shadows on the walls and bathing the Thundercat in an orange glow. The heat from the flames was intense, and Gribble could feel the scorching air brushing against his skin. The fireballs sizzled and crackled as they hit the stone, sending sparks flying in all directions. For a moment, the cave was filled with a dazzling display of light and sound, a stark contrast to the dark, scary storm that raged outside. Gribble's heart pounded with a mixture of fear and excitement as he watched the fireballs explode, hoping that the sudden attack would be enough to distract the Thundercat and give him a chance to escape.
Gribble's mind raced as he sent the fireballs towards the Thundercat, desperately hoping that the sudden attack would give him the distraction he needed to make his escape. He focused his thoughts, tapping into his teleportation powers and trying to picture a safe place outside the cave. However, the tiredness and the fear that gripped his heart made it hard to concentrate. Gribble's brow furrowed as he tried to gather the needed energy, but his body felt heavy and sluggish, as if he was moving through water. The image of the safe haven he sought flickered in his mind's eye, tantalizingly close but just out of reach. Gribble gritted his teeth, pushing himself to the limits of his mental and physical strength as he struggled to keep his focus. The cave seemed to spin around him, and he could feel the cold tendrils of despair creeping into his heart as he realized that his teleportation powers might fail him in this critical moment.
Gribble's heart sank as he watched the Thundercat emerge unharmed from the fiery assault. The creature's electric blue fur crackled with energy, the sparks dancing across its body like tiny bolts of lightning. The Thundercat's eyes blazed with an otherworldly intensity, and it let out a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the cave. The sound was unlike anything Gribble had ever heard before – a primal, guttural cry that seemed to echo through his very bones. The cave walls trembled, and small rocks and debris rained down from the ceiling, adding to the chaos of the moment. Gribble realized with a sinking feeling that the Thundercat was not only unharmed but enraged by his attack. The creature's muscles rippled beneath its fur as it prepared to charge, and Gribble knew that a battle was now unavoidable. He steeled himself, summoning every ounce of courage and determination he possessed, knowing that he must fight with all his might if he hoped to survive this encounter.
The Thundercat sprang into action, its powerful legs propelling it towards Gribble with a speed that defied belief. The creature moved with a fluid grace, its body a blur of electric blue as it closed the distance between them in mere seconds. Gribble barely had time to react before the Thundercat was upon him, its razor-sharp claws slashing through the air with deadly precision. He threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the initial attack, but the Thundercat's agility was unmatched. The creature pivoted mid-leap, its tail lashing out like a whip and its claws finding purchase on the cave wall as it redirected its momentum. Gribble's heart raced as he realized the true extent of the Thundercat's physical prowess – its reflexes were lightning-fast, and its strength was beyond anything he had ever encountered. The creature's eyes locked onto Gribble, and he could see the predatory gleam within them, the raw hunger for the hunt. Gribble knew that he must keep moving, keep dodging, if he hoped to stay alive long enough to find a way to counter the Thundercat's relentless assault.
Despite the fatigue that weighed heavily upon him, Gribble mustered the last reserves of his energy and called upon his earth vine powers. He focused his mind, reaching out to the cave floor and seeking the dormant life that lay beneath the stone. With a surge of effort, Gribble summoned a single, thick green tendril from the ground, watching as it burst forth and snaked its way towards the Thundercat. The vine wrapped itself around one of the creature's muscular legs, momentarily halting its advance and giving Gribble a fleeting moment of hope. However, the Thundercat's strength was too great, and it easily ripped through the vine with a snarl of annoyance. The severed tendril fell to the cave floor, writhing like a dying snake before going still. Gribble's heart sank as he realized that his earth vine powers, once a reliable ally in battle, were no match for the Thundercat's raw power. The creature's gaze turned back to Gribble, its eyes narrowing with a mixture of anger and predatory anticipation, and he knew that he must find another way to defend himself before it was too late.
Gribble's mind raced as he desperately searched for a way to gain the upper hand against the relentless Thundercat. In a last-ditch effort, he summoned another volley of bean-sized fireballs, pouring every ounce of his remaining energy into the attack. The tiny flames erupted from his fingertips in rapid succession, streaking through the air like miniature comets and striking the Thundercat's fur with sizzling precision. The creature hissed in pain as the fireballs singed its coat, but its anger only seemed to grow with each passing second. Gribble's exhaustion began to take its toll, his movements becoming sluggish and uncoordinated as he struggled to maintain the barrage. His vision blurred, and his limbs felt heavy, as if he was moving through molasses. The Thundercat pressed its advantage, its claws and fangs flashing in the dim light of the cave as it lunged towards Gribble with renewed ferocity. He knew that he could not keep up this pace for much longer, and a sense of despair began to creep into his heart as he realized that his efforts might not be enough to save him from the Thundercat's wrath.
The Thundercat seized the opportunity presented by Gribble's faltering defense, delivering a devastating blow that sent the young adventurer flying across the cave. Gribble felt the air rush from his lungs as he slammed into the unyielding rock wall, his body crumpling to the ground in a heap of pain and exhaustion. Stars danced before his eyes, and he gasped for breath, each inhalation sending shockwaves of agony through his battered frame. Gribble's mind reeled as he tried to assess the extent of his injuries, but the pain was too great, too all-consuming. He could taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, and he knew that he was badly hurt. The Thundercat's shadow fell over him, and Gribble looked up to see the creature looming above, its eyes glinting with a mixture of triumph and bloodlust. He tried to move, to crawl away, but his body refused to cooperate, and he collapsed back to the ground, his strength utterly spent. Gribble's heart pounded with the realization that he might not survive this encounter, and a cold sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.
Gribble lay broken and helpless on the cave floor, his vision swimming as he teetered on the brink of unconsciousness. The Thundercat stood over him, its electric blue fur crackling with energy as it prepared to deliver the final, fatal blow. Gribble's mind raced, desperately searching for a way out, for some last-minute miracle that could save him from this dire fate. He tried to summon his powers, to call upon the earth or conjure another fireball, but his body was too weak, too battered to respond. The Thundercat's eyes bore into him, and Gribble could see the raw, primal hunger that burned within them – the desire to end his life and claim victory. His heart hammered in his chest, and he could feel the cold tendrils of fear wrapping around his soul as he stared death in the face.
Would he find a way to overcome the Thundercat, or would his journey come to a tragic end in the depths of the cave? The fate of the young goblin hung in the balance, and only time would tell if he had the strength and cunning to emerge victorious.

So disclaimer this is everything my roommate did when she lived with me from my perspective. Also this is a really long story because a lot happened, and I do tend to get sidetracked.
Before we became roommates, I had a situationship with this guy. Let’s call him John. John and I met in our first semester of college and hit it off right off the bat. John was a mutual friend of me and my psychotic roommate, which is how we were introduced. Let’s call her Shortstack. So Shortstack knew I had a thing for John, and was encouraging us to start a relationship which I thought was nice. Eventually, though, when there was a lull in our relationship she admitted to liking John, and I backed off because it was looking like a relationship between me and John wasn’t gonna happen. I did my best to subtly wingman and they ended up dating.
Right before they made it official, I had met someone new. We’ll call him Tim (I’m trying to use generic/default guy names to keep some anonymity). Tim and I hit it off right off the bat. He’s honestly the most genuine, talented, thoughtful, and interesting guy I’ve ever met. Anyway, right before John and Shortstack started dating, I got a text from Shortstack saying she had the hots for Tim and asked if I he was free game. I was a bit bothered by that, but she respected my answer when I politely told her that Tim and I had something good and I didn’t want anyone interfering. At least, I THOUGHT she respected my answer.
Almost a year later and I had asked Shortstack if she wanted to be my roommate so we could both live near school while not having to live on campus. Worst decision ever.
She moved in before I did, and when it was my turn to move in the place was an absolute disaster. Dirty clothes and empty Dominos boxes covered the floor. She had also set up her decorations all over the entire apartment (not really leaving any room for me, which was made worse by the fact that we shared a room, and the apartment was very tiny so we were basically living on top of each other). I brushed it off, but it never really got any better. Normally I wouldn’t be too upset, I’m not a huge neat freak or anything, but it peeved me that she would always point out any mess that I had made.
Here’s a list of some of her really gross habits: dirty underwear everywhere kept old dominos boxes everywhere would buy salads and let them expire and they would sit there until I took them out Refused to do any chores or contribute in any way our shower didn’t fully drain so hair was often left in the tub, but she never cleaned up after herself (meaning I was scrubbing her pubes out of the tub) Used tissues would be left on the ground Not flushing I never once saw her do laundry in the 6 months we lived together
I’m sure there’s more but these are just the ones that I remember. To be fair, here were my gross she took issue with: Leaving dishes in the sink for a long-ass time Letting my laundry basket overflow Walking around in a towel after I took a shower, even when her tinder dates were over (mostly cuz I didn’t give a shit and everything was covered, but I also understand that her glares when I would do that were a little deserved).
That was the easiest part of living with her that I had to deal with. It got so so so much worse, and slowly she started to reveal her true colours.
She had a job at a jewelry store, got fired. Moved to a job at a grocery store across the street, got fired. Bummed around for a few weeks, mostly just sitting on the couch doing arts and crafts. Tried a Zumba class, quit after 2 sessions. Finally she got hired at a movie theatre, but she would only work Friday and weekends. All the while a lot of new things were appearing in our apartment. New makeup, a makeup chair, a tiny plastic Dreamhouse, posters and picture frames, lights, you name it. She was also buying premade meals and continued to order Dominos and DoorDash, never making her own food.
That’s around the time I found a buried letter from our landlord saying she was 2 months behind on rent. (Also an honorable mention about her RGB lights, she would keep them on while I was trying to sleep, even when I had work in the morning which was most days and she’d throw a little hissy fit whenever I asked her to turn them off because it was midnight and I had to get up in a couple hours).
She would constantly be having guys over, but would never tell me, so I’d always come home to a stranger on our couch and I’d uncomfortably lock myself in our room. Walls were thin so I had to listen to her awful flirting and occasionally kissing noises. She had made a goal for herself to kiss at least 30 guys so she could write a book about it, one chapter for each guy. It’s funny because the book is coming out soon, I’m not gonna share the name because I don’t wanna promote an incel’s diary but if you happen to be one of the guys she wrote about, just know that she has said several times her type is “Generic kinda ugly white guys.” I don’t think that’s her type, I think she just says that because all of the super attractive guys she went after all shot her down so quick.
While she’s collecting “ugly-ish white guys” (her words), she has promised herself to some dude in the military overseas who has a ring with their initials carved into it (his name is Matt. I’m not censoring that because I genuinely hope he sees this even though chances are insanely slim. She’s Jodie-ing you my guy, and she wants to elope and marry you to piss her parents off and for financial benefits because she can’t keep a job).
ONTOP of all this, Tim (who at this point I had been with for over a year) would come over and visit sometimes. She was always miserable, but perked up and suddenly became so sweet and friendly whenever he was there. Tim kept trying to drop some social cues that he did not want to talk to her, but she ignored it. I also want to mention that Tim is incredibly attractive, physically and personality wise, which is the main reason I think that “ugly” isn’t actually her type, it’s just all she can get.
Oh quick mention one of her tinder guys was 17. She was close to 20 at the time. She said their age gap made her uncomfortable but she invited him over because she wanted to, and I quote, “lick his abs.” Take that as you will.
My breaking point with her was when I woke up one day with a random man in the room sleeping next to her. She let a random man from tinder have full unsupervised access to 2 unconscious girls and all of their valuable items. There’s more stuff she did but this is already super long so I’m going to leave it on this note. Let me know if you guys wanna hear the rest.

I naturally fell into babysitting around the age of 14. Through friends and family, I got leads for babysitting to score some cash, which definitely beat having to work at a restaurant. The job had its ups and downs, but overall it wasn’t a bad gig at all.
Yet, as many good experiences as I had, they were all eclipsed by one night.
A new family in town talked to my dad at work and it turned out that they needed a babysitter. I happily took the job and found myself watching their 10-year old boy a couple of weeks later. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the family themselves. They were the model citizens of suburban America, complete with the white picket fence and blue shutters. Nothing about their house was strange or even unique. Their son Avery was very mild-mannered and polite. Even their car was basic. Not that these were bad things, but I expected it to be a very boring night.
What I did not expect was the uncomfortable, inexplicable feeling that I got when I set foot in the house. A chill ran through me, but there was no draft. I rubbed my arms as I gazed at their staircase as we passed. They gave me a brief tour of the house before they left a note of instructions and all the usual information I expected from a job.
While trying to figure out what was making me so uneasy about the place, I noticed something about their basement door when I passed it. A padlock was placed on the door, along with a deadbolt in place.
"Any questions?” The father asked as my mind was pulled out of my curiosity.
"No, sir. Everything looks great!”
So they left and Avery and I played some games before I made dinner. A couple of times, I thought I heard Avery call me into the den. Both times, I found him sitting on the couch in what most recognize as the TV-zombie state. He denied having called me, and I went back to making dinner. After the third time, I told Avery it wasn’t funny and that he should stop.
“I’m not doing anything, I’m just watching TV!”
His voice went to that higher tone of pleading, sounding desperate for me to believe him.
“Avery, I know it’s my first time and sometimes you wanna test things out, but I’m trying to get dinner ready so if you call me again, I’m not checking on you, okay?”
“I didn't say anything.”
The child glared at the TV with a pouting face, and I began to feel bad. As many times as I’ve heard lies, I was starting to sense that he was telling the truth. So what was I hearing?
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not mad. Promise.”
Avery turned his head back towards me, seeming to test if I was the one fibbing now.
“How about I let you stay up a little later if we forget about it?”
“Do you really promise?”
“Pinky promise.”
With our contractual pinkies interlocked, spirits were raised again and I was able to finish dinner. Although I didn’t finish without hearing Avery’s voice calling me once more. I ignored it, and when Avery didn’t mention it at dinner I figured it was him fooling around again. The whole time we chatted as we ate, I couldn’t help but feel that something was not right about this house.
As hard as I tried to not look, my eyes kept diverting to the heavy padlock and chain on the basement door. Curiosity got the best of me and as we were cleaning up, I couldn’t help but ask.
“So Avery, what’s the deal with the basement door?”
“What do you mean?”
His words did not match his demeanor. It was obvious he didn’t make eye contact as he forced his sentence out.
“C’mon, you know what I mean. The padlock, chain, and deadbolt. Y’all have dangerous chemicals down there?”
Avery’s face grew paler and he stared at the wall for a moment.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I didn’t mean to…”
“Dad said no one can talk about it anymore.”
This really threw me off, and I couldn’t possibly finish my sentence now. A thick veil of tension materialized between us.
“So you…you guys aren’t allowed to talk about it?”
Avery shook his head.
“Ah, okay. That’s cool. No big deal.”
It was nothing but a big deal.
Was their dad doing something illegal down there? Or was it something strange that no one could do anything about it? Maybe their dad was in denial about something going on. There were waaaaaay too many questions going through my head now.
“Hey, how about we put on a movie?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What am I saying? Everyone likes movies, right?!”
Now excited, we decided on a fun movie that quickly pulled our minds away from the mysterious basement door. Well, that’s not entirely true. Maybe Avery was distracted, but it was killing me. As we ate popcorn, I couldn’t help but watch Avery, wondering what was going on in that little head of his.
Was there something awful going on in the house and there was nothing I could do to stop it? Or maybe the dad was just…
“Stop,” I told myself inwardly.
Mulling over it all endlessly was not doing myself any favors.
So the movie ended, and I ushered the drifting child to his bed. Now, the house was all to myself until twelve, so I had a good three and a half hours to myself. Immediately, I began texting my friend to tell her all about the weird experience I was having that night. She dismissed it, saying that I was getting spooked by a new place. This annoyed me to no end. I’d been at bigger, way creepier-looking houses but never got weird vibes like this.
Then…I heard it.
“Stephanie…..”
I went instantly still and listened intently.
“You didn’t hear that, Steph. Just keep texting your friend and…”
“Stephanieeeee…”
There was no mistaking it this time. It was definitely coming from the basement.
The acoustics couldn’t have been from Avery upstairs. The voice sounded like a little girl’s. In fact, I’m not even sure he could make his voice like that, anyway.
Slowly, I stood up from the couch and approached the door. Maybe like earlier, I was just hearing things. Maybe being creeped out by the house was starting to mess with my head. That made sense…right?
“Stephanie?”
I jumped back from the door, almost wetting myself in the process. There was no way I could dismiss it as anything else now. There was a little girl’s voice coming from the basement.
“H-hello?” I responded.
I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking.
“Is this Stephanie?”
“Y-yes, it’s Stephanie.”
“Can you help me?”
“Who are you? Why are you locked in the basement?”
“My name is Meredith Rosenberg. They’re kept me locked up for a long time now. The police were almost on to them and that’s why they moved. Can you get me out?”
A cold shock washed over me and made it hard to respond. Was I actually babysitting for a family that kept a little girl prisoner?
“Oh my God…um….how long have you been locked up with them?”
“Ever since I can remember.”
I felt somehow hot and cold at the same time, and wanted to throw up. This all made sense now with what Avery had told me. Of course his father didn’t want him talking about the door…
“I just need to find the keys and I can…”
“They’re hidden in the garage underneath the metal shelf. It’s inside a magnetic key holder.”
“Okay, just hold tight.”
In a panic to free the poor girl, I darted into the garage and began feeling the space underneath the bottom shelf and sure enough, there was a magnetic key holder there. Running back, I popped the key holder open and began to insert the key into the padlock.
“Did you find it?”
“Yes, sweetie. I’m almost there!”
“Oh, please hurry! Sometimes they come home early!”
This sent me into even more of a rush, and I barely managed to fumble the key into the padlock. I finally heard the successful click of the padlock, pulled the chain off, and slid the deadbolt to the right.
“I’m coming, Meredith. Hold on!”
I turned the doorknob and threw open the door, only to be met with darkness. Now full of adrenaline, my hands felt around for the light switch. Finally finding my purchase, I flicked the light on which lit up most of the stairs.
“Meredith?” I called out.
Unless I was remembering it wrong, it sounded like her voice was just on the other side of the door a minute ago. In fact, it was quite strange that she wasn’t waiting for me at the top of the stairs. Wouldn’t you immediately run out of a basement that you were locked in for God knows how long?
“I’m down here!” The little girl’s voice called out.
Judging from the distance, it sounded like she was calling from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs. My brain suddenly began piecing all the details of this interaction together and the idea of going down into the basement became absolutely terrifying.
“Meredith, you can come up now! The door’s open!”
I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. Why I was scared of a little girl was beyond me, but much like the house itself, something felt very wrong here.
“I hurt my leg, owww! When you said you were getting the key, I went back down to get some of my things and got hurt. Ahhh….”
Her sounds of pain filled me with sorrow, but an invisible force was holding me back from taking another step into that basement.
“Can you move? Maybe pull yourself up on the railing?”
“I can’t! It hurts too bad!”
“Okay, sweetie umm…”
“What’s wrong? Won’t you help me?”
“I-I it’s just…really dark down there and…and I don’t want to get hurt too. Is there any way you can get to the stairs? Any way at all?”
“I tried to sit up, but my shoulder hurts too much.”
“I thought you said your leg got hurt?”
The words hung in the air like a noose. It was only after I said it that I realized there was several things seriously wrong about all of this. A question popped into my head I didn’t even have time to think about until now.
How did she know where the padlock key was?
A deathly silence took up the space between me and wherever this girl was. It was a standoff, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say. There were questions I could ask her to figure out what was happening, but I felt that her answers weren’t going to be honest. Perhaps at this point, the truth was too frightful to know.
"Meredith? Are you still there?"
It was a stupid question, but it was the only thing my mind could conjure. The additional silence only unnerved me, so I decided to try and get a better look. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I clicked on the flashlight. It didn’t do me any good because of the awful range, so I did the one thing I’d already told myself not to do…
I took a step forward...
Maybe it was the angle of the stairs or the lighting, but that one step gave me more information than I ever wanted to know. I caught a better view of the bottom step, which was essentially a ledge into a black abyss. Something looked different on this step, but it took a second to register what it was.
The step was wet, a pool of some unknown liquid overflowing into the darkness of the basement. I knew for sure that the father hadn’t mentioned any flooding so it would be way too random for that. So I stood there, watching in frozen curiosity as the puddle then suddenly rippled…and I realized the abominable truth.
It wasn’t water.
It was a puddle of saliva…and something was drooling into it from the dark.
A wretched chuckle emanated from the horrid void beyond the step, and it cemented me even further into place. It was a wet chortle, and positively evil.
“How did you like my voices?” The thing said from the dark. “I’ve been practicing."
The epiphany creeped down my spine…it was now talking in Avery’s voice. Everything in my body screamed at me to run. I heard the screams but I couldn’t respond no matter how hard I tried.
"A pity though…almost got you."
At this, the most gruesome face peeled back the shadows and revealed itself, along with its unearthly mandibles and small fountain of saliva. My faculties finally came to and I threw myself into the house and kicked the door closed. In mere seconds, I had the door bolted and chained. Leaning against the door, my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath.
Just as I felt I was safe, the door shuddered as a terrible blow rocked it. I screamed and ran upstairs to grab Avery.
I practically dragged the poor kid out the door and called the police. It wasn’t until the operator came on that I realized I was about to report a monster in the house. Thinking quickly, I told them that I heard a burglar in the home.
It wasn’t long before the police and Avery’s parents came home. Nothing was found, even in the basement, but I didn’t even care at that point. I just wanted the hell out of that house and away from whatever that….thing was. Avery’s parents kept glancing at me funny the whole time, probably because they knew I had their basement key. I shoved it into their hands before I hugged Avery and got into my car to drive home. That poor kid has to live in that house with that thing, but there was nothing I could do about it.
As long as I am alive, I will never….ever set foot in that house again.
And as for basements go, I can't go into them anymore. I just simply can't...

I naturally fell into babysitting around the age of 14. Through friends and family, I got leads for babysitting to score some cash, which definitely beat having to work at a restaurant. The job had its ups and downs, but overall it wasn’t a bad gig at all.
Yet, as many good experiences as I had, they were all eclipsed by one night.
A new family in town talked to my dad at work and it turned out that they needed a babysitter. I happily took the job and found myself watching their 10-year old boy a couple of weeks later. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the family themselves. They were the model citizens of suburban America, complete with the white picket fence and blue shutters. Nothing about their house was strange or even unique. Their son Avery was very mild-mannered and polite. Even their car was basic. Not that these were bad things, but I expected it to be a very boring night.
What I did not expect was the uncomfortable, inexplicable feeling that I got when I set foot in the house. A chill ran through me, but there was no draft. I rubbed my arms as I gazed at their staircase as we passed. They gave me a brief tour of the house before they left a note of instructions and all the usual information I expected from a job.
While trying to figure out what was making me so uneasy about the place, I noticed something about their basement door when I passed it. A padlock was placed on the door, along with a deadbolt in place.
"Any questions?” The father asked as my mind was pulled out of my curiosity.
"No, sir. Everything looks great!”
So they left and Avery and I played some games before I made dinner. A couple of times, I thought I heard Avery call me into the den. Both times, I found him sitting on the couch in what most recognize as the TV-zombie state. He denied having called me, and I went back to making dinner. After the third time, I told Avery it wasn’t funny and that he should stop.
“I’m not doing anything, I’m just watching TV!”
His voice went to that higher tone of pleading, sounding desperate for me to believe him.
“Avery, I know it’s my first time and sometimes you wanna test things out, but I’m trying to get dinner ready so if you call me again, I’m not checking on you, okay?”
“I didn't say anything.”
The child glared at the TV with a pouting face, and I began to feel bad. As many times as I’ve heard lies, I was starting to sense that he was telling the truth. So what was I hearing?
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not mad. Promise.”
Avery turned his head back towards me, seeming to test if I was the one fibbing now.
“How about I let you stay up a little later if we forget about it?”
“Do you really promise?”
“Pinky promise.”
With our contractual pinkies interlocked, spirits were raised again and I was able to finish dinner. Although I didn’t finish without hearing Avery’s voice calling me once more. I ignored it, and when Avery didn’t mention it at dinner I figured it was him fooling around again. The whole time we chatted as we ate, I couldn’t help but feel that something was not right about this house.
As hard as I tried to not look, my eyes kept diverting to the heavy padlock and chain on the basement door. Curiosity got the best of me and as we were cleaning up, I couldn’t help but ask.
“So Avery, what’s the deal with the basement door?”
“What do you mean?”
His words did not match his demeanor. It was obvious he didn’t make eye contact as he forced his sentence out.
“C’mon, you know what I mean. The padlock, chain, and deadbolt. Y’all have dangerous chemicals down there?”
Avery’s face grew paler and he stared at the wall for a moment.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I didn’t mean to…”
“Dad said no one can talk about it anymore.”
This really threw me off, and I couldn’t possibly finish my sentence now. A thick veil of tension materialized between us.
“So you…you guys aren’t allowed to talk about it?”
Avery shook his head.
“Ah, okay. That’s cool. No big deal.”
It was nothing but a big deal.
Was their dad doing something illegal down there? Or was it something strange that no one could do anything about it? Maybe their dad was in denial about something going on. There were waaaaaay too many questions going through my head now.
“Hey, how about we put on a movie?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What am I saying? Everyone likes movies, right?!”
Now excited, we decided on a fun movie that quickly pulled our minds away from the mysterious basement door. Well, that’s not entirely true. Maybe Avery was distracted, but it was killing me. As we ate popcorn, I couldn’t help but watch Avery, wondering what was going on in that little head of his.
Was there something awful going on in the house and there was nothing I could do to stop it? Or maybe the dad was just…
“Stop,” I told myself inwardly.
Mulling over it all endlessly was not doing myself any favors.
So the movie ended, and I ushered the drifting child to his bed. Now, the house was all to myself until twelve, so I had a good three and a half hours to myself. Immediately, I began texting my friend to tell her all about the weird experience I was having that night. She dismissed it, saying that I was getting spooked by a new place. This annoyed me to no end. I’d been at bigger, way creepier-looking houses but never got weird vibes like this.
Then…I heard it.
“Stephanie…..”
I went instantly still and listened intently.
“You didn’t hear that, Steph. Just keep texting your friend and…”
“Stephanieeeee…”
There was no mistaking it this time. It was definitely coming from the basement.
The acoustics couldn’t have been from Avery upstairs. The voice sounded like a little girl’s. In fact, I’m not even sure he could make his voice like that, anyway.
Slowly, I stood up from the couch and approached the door. Maybe like earlier, I was just hearing things. Maybe being creeped out by the house was starting to mess with my head. That made sense…right?
“Stephanie?”
I jumped back from the door, almost wetting myself in the process. There was no way I could dismiss it as anything else now. There was a little girl’s voice coming from the basement.
“H-hello?” I responded.
I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking.
“Is this Stephanie?”
“Y-yes, it’s Stephanie.”
“Can you help me?”
“Who are you? Why are you locked in the basement?”
“My name is Meredith Rosenberg. They’re kept me locked up for a long time now. The police were almost on to them and that’s why they moved. Can you get me out?”
A cold shock washed over me and made it hard to respond. Was I actually babysitting for a family that kept a little girl prisoner?
“Oh my God…um….how long have you been locked up with them?”
“Ever since I can remember.”
I felt somehow hot and cold at the same time, and wanted to throw up. This all made sense now with what Avery had told me. Of course his father didn’t want him talking about the door…
“I just need to find the keys and I can…”
“They’re hidden in the garage underneath the metal shelf. It’s inside a magnetic key holder.”
“Okay, just hold tight.”
In a panic to free the poor girl, I darted into the garage and began feeling the space underneath the bottom shelf and sure enough, there was a magnetic key holder there. Running back, I popped the key holder open and began to insert the key into the padlock.
“Did you find it?”
“Yes, sweetie. I’m almost there!”
“Oh, please hurry! Sometimes they come home early!”
This sent me into even more of a rush, and I barely managed to fumble the key into the padlock. I finally heard the successful click of the padlock, pulled the chain off, and slid the deadbolt to the right.
“I’m coming, Meredith. Hold on!”
I turned the doorknob and threw open the door, only to be met with darkness. Now full of adrenaline, my hands felt around for the light switch. Finally finding my purchase, I flicked the light on which lit up most of the stairs.
“Meredith?” I called out.
Unless I was remembering it wrong, it sounded like her voice was just on the other side of the door a minute ago. In fact, it was quite strange that she wasn’t waiting for me at the top of the stairs. Wouldn’t you immediately run out of a basement that you were locked in for God knows how long?
“I’m down here!” The little girl’s voice called out.
Judging from the distance, it sounded like she was calling from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs. My brain suddenly began piecing all the details of this interaction together and the idea of going down into the basement became absolutely terrifying.
“Meredith, you can come up now! The door’s open!”
I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. Why I was scared of a little girl was beyond me, but much like the house itself, something felt very wrong here.
“I hurt my leg, owww! When you said you were getting the key, I went back down to get some of my things and got hurt. Ahhh….”
Her sounds of pain filled me with sorrow, but an invisible force was holding me back from taking another step into that basement.
“Can you move? Maybe pull yourself up on the railing?”
“I can’t! It hurts too bad!”
“Okay, sweetie umm…”
“What’s wrong? Won’t you help me?”
“I-I it’s just…really dark down there and…and I don’t want to get hurt too. Is there any way you can get to the stairs? Any way at all?”
“I tried to sit up, but my shoulder hurts too much.”
“I thought you said your leg got hurt?”
The words hung in the air like a noose. It was only after I said it that I realized there was several things seriously wrong about all of this. A question popped into my head I didn’t even have time to think about until now.
How did she know where the padlock key was?
A deathly silence took up the space between me and wherever this girl was. It was a standoff, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say. There were questions I could ask her to figure out what was happening, but I felt that her answers weren’t going to be honest. Perhaps at this point, the truth was too frightful to know.
"Meredith? Are you still there?"
It was a stupid question, but it was the only thing my mind could conjure. The additional silence only unnerved me, so I decided to try and get a better look. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I clicked on the flashlight. It didn’t do me any good because of the awful range, so I did the one thing I’d already told myself not to do…
I took a step forward...
Maybe it was the angle of the stairs or the lighting, but that one step gave me more information than I ever wanted to know. I caught a better view of the bottom step, which was essentially a ledge into a black abyss. Something looked different on this step, but it took a second to register what it was.
The step was wet, a pool of some unknown liquid overflowing into the darkness of the basement. I knew for sure that the father hadn’t mentioned any flooding so it would be way too random for that. So I stood there, watching in frozen curiosity as the puddle then suddenly rippled…and I realized the abominable truth.
It wasn’t water.
It was a puddle of saliva…and something was drooling into it from the dark.
A wretched chuckle emanated from the horrid void beyond the step, and it cemented me even further into place. It was a wet chortle, and positively evil.
“How did you like my voices?” The thing said from the dark. “I’ve been practicing."
The epiphany creeped down my spine…it was now talking in Avery’s voice. Everything in my body screamed at me to run. I heard the screams but I couldn’t respond no matter how hard I tried.
"A pity though…almost got you."
At this, the most gruesome face peeled back the shadows and revealed itself, along with its unearthly mandibles and small fountain of saliva. My faculties finally came to and I threw myself into the house and kicked the door closed. In mere seconds, I had the door bolted and chained. Leaning against the door, my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath.
Just as I felt I was safe, the door shuddered as a terrible blow rocked it. I screamed and ran upstairs to grab Avery.
I practically dragged the poor kid out the door and called the police. It wasn’t until the operator came on that I realized I was about to report a monster in the house. Thinking quickly, I told them that I heard a burglar in the home.
It wasn’t long before the police and Avery’s parents came home. Nothing was found, even in the basement, but I didn’t even care at that point. I just wanted the hell out of that house and away from whatever that….thing was. Avery’s parents kept glancing at me funny the whole time, probably because they knew I had their basement key. I shoved it into their hands before I hugged Avery and got into my car to drive home. That poor kid has to live in that house with that thing, but there was nothing I could do about it.
As long as I am alive, I will never….ever set foot in that house again.
And as for basements go, I can't go into them anymore. I just simply can't...

I naturally fell into babysitting around the age of 14. Through friends and family, I got leads for babysitting to score some cash, which definitely beat having to work at a restaurant. The job had its ups and downs, but overall it wasn’t a bad gig at all.
Yet, as many good experiences as I had, they were all eclipsed by one night.
A new family in town talked to my dad at work and it turned out that they needed a babysitter. I happily took the job and found myself watching their 10-year old boy a couple of weeks later. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the family themselves. They were the model citizens of suburban America, complete with the white picket fence and blue shutters. Nothing about their house was strange or even unique. Their son Avery was very mild-mannered and polite. Even their car was basic. Not that these were bad things, but I expected it to be a very boring night.
What I did not expect was the uncomfortable, inexplicable feeling that I got when I set foot in the house. A chill ran through me, but there was no draft. I rubbed my arms as I gazed at their staircase as we passed. They gave me a brief tour of the house before they left a note of instructions and all the usual information I expected from a job.
While trying to figure out what was making me so uneasy about the place, I noticed something about their basement door when I passed it. A padlock was placed on the door, along with a deadbolt in place.
"Any questions?” The father asked as my mind was pulled out of my curiosity.
"No, sir. Everything looks great!”
So they left and Avery and I played some games before I made dinner. A couple of times, I thought I heard Avery call me into the den. Both times, I found him sitting on the couch in what most recognize as the TV-zombie state. He denied having called me, and I went back to making dinner. After the third time, I told Avery it wasn’t funny and that he should stop.
“I’m not doing anything, I’m just watching TV!”
His voice went to that higher tone of pleading, sounding desperate for me to believe him.
“Avery, I know it’s my first time and sometimes you wanna test things out, but I’m trying to get dinner ready so if you call me again, I’m not checking on you, okay?”
“I didn't say anything.”
The child glared at the TV with a pouting face, and I began to feel bad. As many times as I’ve heard lies, I was starting to sense that he was telling the truth. So what was I hearing?
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not mad. Promise.”
Avery turned his head back towards me, seeming to test if I was the one fibbing now.
“How about I let you stay up a little later if we forget about it?”
“Do you really promise?”
“Pinky promise.”
With our contractual pinkies interlocked, spirits were raised again and I was able to finish dinner. Although I didn’t finish without hearing Avery’s voice calling me once more. I ignored it, and when Avery didn’t mention it at dinner I figured it was him fooling around again. The whole time we chatted as we ate, I couldn’t help but feel that something was not right about this house.
As hard as I tried to not look, my eyes kept diverting to the heavy padlock and chain on the basement door. Curiosity got the best of me and as we were cleaning up, I couldn’t help but ask.
“So Avery, what’s the deal with the basement door?”
“What do you mean?”
His words did not match his demeanor. It was obvious he didn’t make eye contact as he forced his sentence out.
“C’mon, you know what I mean. The padlock, chain, and deadbolt. Y’all have dangerous chemicals down there?”
Avery’s face grew paler and he stared at the wall for a moment.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I didn’t mean to…”
“Dad said no one can talk about it anymore.”
This really threw me off, and I couldn’t possibly finish my sentence now. A thick veil of tension materialized between us.
“So you…you guys aren’t allowed to talk about it?”
Avery shook his head.
“Ah, okay. That’s cool. No big deal.”
It was nothing but a big deal.
Was their dad doing something illegal down there? Or was it something strange that no one could do anything about it? Maybe their dad was in denial about something going on. There were waaaaaay too many questions going through my head now.
“Hey, how about we put on a movie?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What am I saying? Everyone likes movies, right?!”
Now excited, we decided on a fun movie that quickly pulled our minds away from the mysterious basement door. Well, that’s not entirely true. Maybe Avery was distracted, but it was killing me. As we ate popcorn, I couldn’t help but watch Avery, wondering what was going on in that little head of his.
Was there something awful going on in the house and there was nothing I could do to stop it? Or maybe the dad was just…
“Stop,” I told myself inwardly.
Mulling over it all endlessly was not doing myself any favors.
So the movie ended, and I ushered the drifting child to his bed. Now, the house was all to myself until twelve, so I had a good three and a half hours to myself. Immediately, I began texting my friend to tell her all about the weird experience I was having that night. She dismissed it, saying that I was getting spooked by a new place. This annoyed me to no end. I’d been at bigger, way creepier-looking houses but never got weird vibes like this.
Then…I heard it.
“Stephanie…..”
I went instantly still and listened intently.
“You didn’t hear that, Steph. Just keep texting your friend and…”
“Stephanieeeee…”
There was no mistaking it this time. It was definitely coming from the basement.
The acoustics couldn’t have been from Avery upstairs. The voice sounded like a little girl’s. In fact, I’m not even sure he could make his voice like that, anyway.
Slowly, I stood up from the couch and approached the door. Maybe like earlier, I was just hearing things. Maybe being creeped out by the house was starting to mess with my head. That made sense…right?
“Stephanie?”
I jumped back from the door, almost wetting myself in the process. There was no way I could dismiss it as anything else now. There was a little girl’s voice coming from the basement.
“H-hello?” I responded.
I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking.
“Is this Stephanie?”
“Y-yes, it’s Stephanie.”
“Can you help me?”
“Who are you? Why are you locked in the basement?”
“My name is Meredith Rosenberg. They’re kept me locked up for a long time now. The police were almost on to them and that’s why they moved. Can you get me out?”
A cold shock washed over me and made it hard to respond. Was I actually babysitting for a family that kept a little girl prisoner?
“Oh my God…um….how long have you been locked up with them?”
“Ever since I can remember.”
I felt somehow hot and cold at the same time, and wanted to throw up. This all made sense now with what Avery had told me. Of course his father didn’t want him talking about the door…
“I just need to find the keys and I can…”
“They’re hidden in the garage underneath the metal shelf. It’s inside a magnetic key holder.”
“Okay, just hold tight.”
In a panic to free the poor girl, I darted into the garage and began feeling the space underneath the bottom shelf and sure enough, there was a magnetic key holder there. Running back, I popped the key holder open and began to insert the key into the padlock.
“Did you find it?”
“Yes, sweetie. I’m almost there!”
“Oh, please hurry! Sometimes they come home early!”
This sent me into even more of a rush, and I barely managed to fumble the key into the padlock. I finally heard the successful click of the padlock, pulled the chain off, and slid the deadbolt to the right.
“I’m coming, Meredith. Hold on!”
I turned the doorknob and threw open the door, only to be met with darkness. Now full of adrenaline, my hands felt around for the light switch. Finally finding my purchase, I flicked the light on which lit up most of the stairs.
“Meredith?” I called out.
Unless I was remembering it wrong, it sounded like her voice was just on the other side of the door a minute ago. In fact, it was quite strange that she wasn’t waiting for me at the top of the stairs. Wouldn’t you immediately run out of a basement that you were locked in for God knows how long?
“I’m down here!” The little girl’s voice called out.
Judging from the distance, it sounded like she was calling from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs. My brain suddenly began piecing all the details of this interaction together and the idea of going down into the basement became absolutely terrifying.
“Meredith, you can come up now! The door’s open!”
I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. Why I was scared of a little girl was beyond me, but much like the house itself, something felt very wrong here.
“I hurt my leg, owww! When you said you were getting the key, I went back down to get some of my things and got hurt. Ahhh….”
Her sounds of pain filled me with sorrow, but an invisible force was holding me back from taking another step into that basement.
“Can you move? Maybe pull yourself up on the railing?”
“I can’t! It hurts too bad!”
“Okay, sweetie umm…”
“What’s wrong? Won’t you help me?”
“I-I it’s just…really dark down there and…and I don’t want to get hurt too. Is there any way you can get to the stairs? Any way at all?”
“I tried to sit up, but my shoulder hurts too much.”
“I thought you said your leg got hurt?”
The words hung in the air like a noose. It was only after I said it that I realized there was several things seriously wrong about all of this. A question popped into my head I didn’t even have time to think about until now.
How did she know where the padlock key was?
A deathly silence took up the space between me and wherever this girl was. It was a standoff, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say. There were questions I could ask her to figure out what was happening, but I felt that her answers weren’t going to be honest. Perhaps at this point, the truth was too frightful to know.
"Meredith? Are you still there?"
It was a stupid question, but it was the only thing my mind could conjure. The additional silence only unnerved me, so I decided to try and get a better look. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I clicked on the flashlight. It didn’t do me any good because of the awful range, so I did the one thing I’d already told myself not to do…
I took a step forward...
Maybe it was the angle of the stairs or the lighting, but that one step gave me more information than I ever wanted to know. I caught a better view of the bottom step, which was essentially a ledge into a black abyss. Something looked different on this step, but it took a second to register what it was.
The step was wet, a pool of some unknown liquid overflowing into the darkness of the basement. I knew for sure that the father hadn’t mentioned any flooding so it would be way too random for that. So I stood there, watching in frozen curiosity as the puddle then suddenly rippled…and I realized the abominable truth.
It wasn’t water.
It was a puddle of saliva…and something was drooling into it from the dark.
A wretched chuckle emanated from the horrid void beyond the step, and it cemented me even further into place. It was a wet chortle, and positively evil.
“How did you like my voices?” The thing said from the dark. “I’ve been practicing."
The epiphany creeped down my spine…it was now talking in Avery’s voice. Everything in my body screamed at me to run. I heard the screams but I couldn’t respond no matter how hard I tried.
"A pity though…almost got you."
At this, the most gruesome face peeled back the shadows and revealed itself, along with its unearthly mandibles and small fountain of saliva. My faculties finally came to and I threw myself into the house and kicked the door closed. In mere seconds, I had the door bolted and chained. Leaning against the door, my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath.
Just as I felt I was safe, the door shuddered as a terrible blow rocked it. I screamed and ran upstairs to grab Avery.
I practically dragged the poor kid out the door and called the police. It wasn’t until the operator came on that I realized I was about to report a monster in the house. Thinking quickly, I told them that I heard a burglar in the home.
It wasn’t long before the police and Avery’s parents came home. Nothing was found, even in the basement, but I didn’t even care at that point. I just wanted the hell out of that house and away from whatever that….thing was. Avery’s parents kept glancing at me funny the whole time, probably because they knew I had their basement key. I shoved it into their hands before I hugged Avery and got into my car to drive home. That poor kid has to live in that house with that thing, but there was nothing I could do about it.
As long as I am alive, I will never….ever set foot in that house again.
And as for basements go, I can't go into them anymore. I just simply can't...

Pics: https://imgur.com/a/Nsbj2NU
Lightly used B33. I installed it with a regular guide rod I slightly filed. It locked up very tight. Comes with hardware but no Rear recoil rod. Asking $600 shipped
A little more salty b30. It was hammer fit onto my slr104fr. Some marks from installation, but when it’s installed the marks are hidden. Never filed! Locks into the trunion very tight, same with handguard retainer. $260 shipped.
Ak12 magazines. 3x. One CX marked. All have glow in the dark followers. CX marked mag does not have loaded mag indicator. $180 shipped each.

So disclaimer this is everything my roommate did when she lived with me from my perspective. Also this is a really long story because a lot happened, and I do tend to get sidetracked.
Before we became roommates, I had a situationship with this guy. Let’s call him John. John and I met in our first semester of college and hit it off right off the bat. John was a mutual friend of me and my psychotic roommate, which is how we were introduced. Let’s call her Shortstack. So Shortstack knew I had a thing for John, and was encouraging us to start a relationship which I thought was nice. Eventually, though, when there was a lull in our relationship she admitted to liking John, and I backed off because it was looking like a relationship between me and John wasn’t gonna happen. I did my best to subtly wingman and they ended up dating.
Right before they made it official, I had met someone new. We’ll call him Tim (I’m trying to use generic/default guy names to keep some anonymity). Tim and I hit it off right off the bat. He’s honestly the most genuine, talented, thoughtful, and interesting guy I’ve ever met. Anyway, right before John and Shortstack started dating, I got a text from Shortstack saying she had the hots for Tim and asked if I he was free game. I was a bit bothered by that, but she respected my answer when I politely told her that Tim and I had something good and I didn’t want anyone interfering. At least, I THOUGHT she respected my answer.
Almost a year later and I had asked Shortstack if she wanted to be my roommate so we could both live near school while not having to live on campus. Worst decision ever.
She moved in before I did, and when it was my turn to move in the place was an absolute disaster. Dirty clothes and empty Dominos boxes covered the floor. She had also set up her decorations all over the entire apartment (not really leaving any room for me, which was made worse by the fact that we shared a room, and the apartment was very tiny so we were basically living on top of each other). I brushed it off, but it never really got any better. Normally I wouldn’t be too upset, I’m not a huge neat freak or anything, but it peeved me that she would always point out any mess that I had made.
Here’s a list of some of her really gross habits: dirty underwear everywhere kept old dominos boxes everywhere would buy salads and let them expire and they would sit there until I took them out Refused to do any chores or contribute in any way our shower didn’t fully drain so hair was often left in the tub, but she never cleaned up after herself (meaning I was scrubbing her pubes out of the tub) Used tissues would be left on the ground Not flushing I never once saw her do laundry in the 6 months we lived together
I’m sure there’s more but these are just the ones that I remember. To be fair, here were my gross she took issue with: Leaving dishes in the sink for a long-ass time Letting my laundry basket overflow Walking around in a towel after I took a shower, even when her tinder dates were over (mostly cuz I didn’t give a shit and everything was covered, but I also understand that her glares when I would do that were a little deserved).
That was the easiest part of living with her that I had to deal with. It got so so so much worse, and slowly she started to reveal her true colours.
She had a job at a jewelry store, got fired. Moved to a job at a grocery store across the street, got fired. Bummed around for a few weeks, mostly just sitting on the couch doing arts and crafts. Tried a Zumba class, quit after 2 sessions. Finally she got hired at a movie theatre, but she would only work Friday and weekends. All the while a lot of new things were appearing in our apartment. New makeup, a makeup chair, a tiny plastic Dreamhouse, posters and picture frames, lights, you name it. She was also buying premade meals and continued to order Dominos and DoorDash, never making her own food.
That’s around the time I found a buried letter from our landlord saying she was 2 months behind on rent. (Also an honorable mention about her RGB lights, she would keep them on while I was trying to sleep, even when I had work in the morning which was most days and she’d throw a little hissy fit whenever I asked her to turn them off because it was midnight and I had to get up in a couple hours).
She would constantly be having guys over, but would never tell me, so I’d always come home to a stranger on our couch and I’d uncomfortably lock myself in our room. Walls were thin so I had to listen to her awful flirting and occasionally kissing noises. She had made a goal for herself to kiss at least 30 guys so she could write a book about it, one chapter for each guy. It’s funny because the book is coming out soon, I’m not gonna share the name because I don’t wanna promote an incel’s diary but if you happen to be one of the guys she wrote about, just know that she has said several times her type is “Generic kinda ugly white guys.” I don’t think that’s her type, I think she just says that because all of the super attractive guys she went after all shot her down so quick.
While she’s collecting “ugly-ish white guys” (her words), she has promised herself to some dude in the military overseas who has a ring with their initials carved into it (his name is Matt. I’m not censoring that because I genuinely hope he sees this even though chances are insanely slim. She’s Jodie-ing you my guy, and she wants to elope and marry you to piss her parents off and for financial benefits because she can’t keep a job).
ONTOP of all this, Tim (who at this point I had been with for over a year) would come over and visit sometimes. She was always miserable, but perked up and suddenly became so sweet and friendly whenever he was there. Tim kept trying to drop some social cues that he did not want to talk to her, but she ignored it. I also want to mention that Tim is incredibly attractive, physically and personality wise, which is the main reason I think that “ugly” isn’t actually her type, it’s just all she can get.
Oh quick mention one of her tinder guys was 17. She was close to 20 at the time. She said their age gap made her uncomfortable but she invited him over because she wanted to, and I quote, “lick his abs.” Take that as you will.
My breaking point with her was when I woke up one day with a random man in the room sleeping next to her. She let a random man from tinder have full unsupervised access to 2 unconscious girls and all of their valuable items. There’s more stuff she did but this is already super long so I’m going to leave it on this note. Let me know if you guys wanna hear the rest.

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/26Xd22N
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Thanks for looking!

So, I've kind of posted about this in other threads, specifically on askreddit, but by some users request, I will do my best to fully relay this entire tale up to the current point, as well as provide as much context I am able (and will provide missing context if asked in comments).
TL;DR
A friend of mine of 4 years drank himself into liver failure and his wife cheated on him, so I offered him a free room to try and put his life back together, and I was repaid for the thought with a divorce of my own, but honestly, it's probably not that bad.
Part 1: CONTEXT
Me and my wife have been together since early 2014, and married in late 2017. We have been through much together, including two extended deployments, one of which was 10 and a half months long. We have traveled the world together, lived on both coasts of the US, and despite much of our struggles and how things eventually went down, I was always convinced we would work as a team to overcome any issues.
The friend in question was, largely, an online friend. We met playing an MMO during covid and we quickly formed a very tight knit, but small, community that were very close that included me, my wife, my friend, his wife, and 4 other friends. Covid was a wild time and I was surprised how easy it was to form friends in this group and we kept in touch, as a whole, even once quarantine had ended and most of us had moved on from that particular game. This was a group that, while it started online, we have met most of these people several times IRL and had vacations to spend time together and just hang out.
Part 2: His Problems
Fast forward to about January of 2024. My buddy, from here on out I will refer to as Z (and for a quick add, I will refer to my wife as D), contacts us to tell us his condition is dire and he has been diagnosed with stage 4 cirrhosis of the liver as a consequence of his extensive drinking. Shaken, we quickly charter a flight out to visit. Within a week, we're staying with him and his wife and his roommate and a couple members of his family who are taking care of him. This man is bloated, yellow, and probably about 350lbs now. We are worried, but stay supportive and positive that help can be found, especially since he seems keen on changing his lifestyle for the better. Some of his family start a gofundme that we donate to, and many of the people in our gaming circle who have grown close also donate several thousand dollars (One member of our raid team donated 10k. You never know who is stealth rich on the internet I guess). Me and several other friends discuss the possibilities of helping him get on disability and even getting ourselves tested as compatible living donors. Sad, but hopeful, we depart about a week later, and stay in constant touch.
About a month later, I'm getting a call from one of our mutuals letting me know that "Hey, so I may have goofed up." and tells me how Z's wife had visited him and had a 3 way with him and his wife. I am obviously irate at this and turn to back Z up with comments like "So much for in sickness and in health, huh?" I do what I can to stay supportive, and my wife, D, also makes it a point to stay in touch with him as he has found himself banished to the couch of his apartment. Not even allowed to sleep in his own bed and frequently uncomfortable even being in his bedroom to use the PC.
I'm not particularly rich, but I am not poor either. I served in the military and have a high VA rating which means a constant income and have a steady job and a couple side gigs that pay well enough. My love language, in many ways, is gift giving. I pride myself on being able to pick a good gift, even if it's a little early for an occasion such as a bday or christmas, and will often pull the trigger on something if it means a lot or I think it will help. In this case, my brother was selling an old steam deck because he wanted a new OLED model, so I figured "two birds, one stone", and buy the steam deck off him and send it to Z so we can still game together.
In the intervening months, Z and D start playing games that I have no interest in (Disney Dreamlight Valley), but I am happy to play other games and hang out and chat. Really, nothing seems amiss, but since his banishment, me and my wife are both pushing for him to come and take up the spare bedroom we have in our home. Soon enough, I buy him a plane ticket and he arrives with little more than the clothes on his back and we take him in, no cost other than the expectation that he might help around the house a bit (he was a chef, so having a cook and someone to help clean was ideal for me who often did not have the time or energy to handle these tasks as thoroughly as I would like).
Part 3: The Incident
Now, I am skipping ahead a little bit here, but there's not much to be said about the time between. My wife worked part time hours, and when she did go to work, she'd have him tag along just so he wouldn't "Sit and stew with bad thoughts" at the house alone. I will admit that throughout this entire ordeal, I have had several, several times where my brain tried to warn me, but I ignored ALL of those signs because I trusted him, but more importantly, I trusted her with my life.
One new, frequent argument I found myself having with her was she would fall asleep on the couch, and when I finally tried to go to bed, I'd do my best to wake her and drag her upstairs. These became extremely frequent occurrences and I expressed to her how frustrated I was that I had to fight with her just to come to bed so we could sleep (mind you, this is not even about sex. Often I'm taking her to bed at like, 1am and I work at 7, so I really just wanted her to be sleeping in the bed). Hell, one time, I started catching the vibes that the longer I sat and waited for her to be ready to go upstairs, she just never would be, because they were waiting for me to leave so they could talk in hushed tones. On THAT particular night, I went upstairs alone with her finally awake, and she did not join me for another half hour.
Finally, the day arrives. Its Sunday. We are all downstairs hanging out. One of their newest habits I can't really stand but just dealt with is that she'd sit and crochet while he doomscrolled or strummed on a guitar I bought him and listen to music videos on youtube endlessly. Eventually, I grow weary and give my wife a kiss and tell her I'm gonna go upstairs and play some GW2 for a bit.
About an hour passes, and she enters the game room and tells me "I am uncomfortable. I really need to talk to you. Oh, you're dying!" (As she entered the room, I immediately turn face to talk to her and disregard the game, but she decided that my Charr was more important that what was about to happen, so she of course warns me.) We step into the bedroom and close the door.
"You're going to hate me," she says through tears, "me and Z kissed!" At this point, my brain short circuits and I recall one of my first thoughts being "Oh lord, here we go." and just a general desire to not be a part of this conversation. Shock sets in almost immediately. Still with a healthy dose of denial, I talk to her about what had happened and told her that it needed to end. Even at this point, I did not want to send this man home. Was it shock? Denial? Probably a mixture of the two, or some other additional emotional responses. She gets up after some discussion and goes downstairs, promising to shut him down, but comes back about 15 minutes later sobbing "I couldn't do it! I couldn't end it..." (Side note: In my confused haze of a mind, I feel personally threatened, and after she leaves the bedroom, I lock the door and grab a metal water cub I keep at my side and prepare to actually fight if it comes to it, but once she returns, I back off that idea again.)
Talking with her more, I present her with two options; Couple's therapy, or divorce. BOTH of these options are world ending to her, and she even goes so far as to suggest that just because I said the "D word" that it was what I wanted, which was objectively untrue. We talk back and forth about things I don't quite recall at this point, aside from one point where she comes back and locks herself in the master bath and tells me to call 911, she doesn't care, because she's going to take a bunch of pills, but after a couple of hours, Z shows up to the door and knocks and asks if he can come in. I tell him he may enter, and we talk for a bit. After about 5ish minutes, we decide to go downstairs to the living room and continue the discussion.
Once I sit down on the sofa, I immediately feel like I'm being positioned as the bad guy. I'm in the corner of our sectional, and she's on my left, he's on my right. She tells him "He said it's either a divorce or couple's therapy." "Oh, so he gave you an ultimatum?" I continue to argue that yes, those are the two only options. Z tells me "You're not being fair to her emotions. She is telling you there is another option." I am thoroughly baffled at this statement.
D: I didn't think it was possible and I didn't mean for it to happen, but I have fallen in love with another man. My heart has room for two. I truly have two soulmates. I have never been happier than sleeping on the couch next to my two boys.
Z: There is no reason you guys can't stay married, and we can explore what we've found. I mean, look at how happy she has been since I have been here!
Sick to my stomach, I get up to go vomit in the toilet. Now, I wore a silicone wedding ring, and often find even with a hand wash, a little water tends to get trapped under it. After I finish and wash myself up, I come back and am playing with my ring to dry it. She sees this as a sign that I am uncomfortable again wearing my ring, and takes off her ring as I sit back down and hands me her wedding ring.
Me: Uh, excuse me?
D: This is what you want, I can tell.
Me: No? I was washing my hands and water gets stuck under my ring...
D: Oh... I thought... okay. (And she takes back her ring from me)
I tell her, very clearly, the options are to either end things with him, or end things with me. At this point, I'm still in shock, but sober in mind enough to decide that this is not worth fighting over. I will not argue with my own wife my merits or why she shouldn't just pack up and leave with a jobless, now essentially homeless man, and if she cannot figure that out herself then I will eventually move on.
Crying, sobbing, she sits down in front of him and says, "I'm so sorry, I fought for you. I really did. I told you I'd fight for you and I failed. I loved being your girlfriend, but I need to be a good wife and stay."
Z says "Alright." and starts to go gather his things to leave. As he does, she grabs him and says "No, wait! Please don't go. I don't know what I want."
Z: Ok, well if we're getting all this out in the open, I want to say this. I love this girl. I love her with my whole heart, and without her, life is not worth living. I will not leave this house if you (me) tell me to. Only her. You are taking this very well right now, I can tell you want to hit me (Still in shock, no, I can genuinely say that emotion or thought had not actually registered outside of the event upstairs earlier), but this is my stand.
D: OP, we had a good run. I'm sorry.
And with that, I get up and go to get my sandals and leave the house to get some air. As I try to go, she runs to the door and he follows her. She pushes the door closed and says "No wait, please!"
Me: No, this is the deal. I'm going out to get some fresh air. I am not threatening self harm to "win you back".
D: Will you be back?
Me: I don't know.
Z: Man, I'm telling you, you don't understand, you think I am your enemy, but I am not.
And with that, I leave and shut the door.
In the about, hour, I am gone, I drive around near the house and I call my supervisor who I have a very good relationship with (and I did not want to involve direct friends or family yet because I'm afraid it's too early to start spreading this news). I go over to her house nearby and we chat shortly. After our talk, I have at least something of a clear head and go home, with words for both of them.
As I arrive home, there is no one downstairs. I go upstairs. His door is closed. I knock on the door.
Z: Uh, one second.
I wait for about 5 agonizing seconds, but I refuse to be shut out of rooms in my own home and open the door. He is shirtless, and she is hiding in the corner just out of sight of me. I look him in the eye.
Me: Really?
Z: Yep.
Me: Get out of my house.
And with that, they both silently pack their things and leave.
The second I hear the front door close, I start calling people. I am not above pettiness, and the first person I call is her mom, whom I have a good relationship with. She is SHAKEN and immediately calls her. (I find out later that it was a particularly harsh verbal beating by her, but it really doesn't change anything.)
When I come downstairs to check the state of the house, I see her wedding ring on the counter. I call out of work the next day and lay down and hope I die.
Part 4: Her Problems
So, there is some additional context that I did not add in part 1 because a lot of it is red flags I ignored over the course of our relationship that, in the days following, started to become more and more obvious. There are many that I spent much effort playing off or covering her for, but I will try to briefly list much of what I see as glaring issues in the relationship that were never remedied.
This woman is 30 years old and cannot drive. She can drive and HAS driven my vehicle at the start of the relationship (albeit illegally), but after one tiny little accident where she hit a pole and knocked my side mirror off (which she paid for and fixed before telling me, it really wasn't a big deal. I was on deployment), she never drove again. Attempts to get her behind the wheel would end very quickly after they started, and the conditions to get her in the seat were often extremely time limited, scheduled, or something would come up, and every time I told her "okay, this month we're getting your license for sure" it just wouldn't happen and I'd end up feeling like the one who was at fault.
She does not have her Bachelor's degree because she did not turn in her final project for one single class. Not only that, but she has never truly pursued a career with the things she learned from the coursework, or even used her AA.
For half of the relationship, she did not work at all. When she did, it was often part time work, and if she was saddled with full time hours or, god forbid, overtime, it was a world-ending affair. She would come home and constantly be tired from her few hours at work and would do little more than sit around and crochet.
Our agreement when we bought our house was that she was going to work full time and we were going to split household duties, but I would definitely scoop the cat box because she was allergic (but she wanted cats) and wash dishes (because she hated them), and she would do laundry (because I hated it). In practice, all her version of laundry turned out to be was to throw loads in when one of us was out of clothes and just hit wash and then rotate, and then leave all the clothes in a pile on the bed. EVERYONE KNOWS folding the laundry is the worst part! Come on! Men's clothes are easy! I don't wear that much! (When we would fold, I often finished in a third of her time and would just hang out and chat until she was done)
Ultimately, this meant that for many years now, she was working barely more than part time if she was working at all, and would sort-of do laundry. Meanwhile, I am scooping litter, folding laundry, doing dishes, doing all related yard work, doing all the household cleaning, handling all the finances, I did MOST of the cooking, and all of the grocery shopping (often going alone), driving her from work if I could (she'd uber it if not) and picking her up and driving her home, as well as just generally being a chauffeur for her for 10 years, while working a full time job and a side gig online. Many nights I'd have to stop what I was doing to pick her up at closing hours, and then would sit in the parking lot for 30 minutes while she did tasks like vacuum her little crystal shop that she definitely could have done before close so I didn't end up waiting so damn long. Then we'd come home hang out and eat while we watched TV, and then if I wanted to try and go upstairs to do another hobby, I'd be silently guilted about it because she wanted to sit on the couch and crochet.
Part 5: My Problems
I am not perfect, and admit I have flaws. One of her favorite things to claim to our friends now is that I was "emotionally neglectful", and if there is truth to it, I think I can pin down the day. Before I started working full time again, I was going to school on the 9/11 GI bill. I was not a good student in my younger years, but in time, I have become rather good at school. My first two semesters back I easily maintained a 4.0 GPA. Over the summer in 2022, I, woefully, decided to take a Calc 2 class online because I could not find one in person and wanted to be ready for Calc 3 in the Fall to fill a prereq for my bachelor's, and I really liked the instructor for that Calc 3 class. This calc 2 class was painful. The instructor had clearly recorded all his lectures during Covid and we were simply given the full course of videos and given work assignments and said "Email me if you have questions." This is not how I learn, but I figured, hey, it's one class. I'm working again, but one class isn't a huge deal. I can knock this out.
I was wrong.
After the second exam, I had a low C in the class and I knew I couldn't keep up. I withdrew from the class feeling no other option. I tend to be pretty good at math, and ultimately my dream was to work with 3d printing on an industrial scale with a Mechanical Engineering degree- and if that failed I had my military history (which is engineering relevant) and a degree to fall back on and work should come easily. After clicking that withdraw button, I saw those dreams vaporize. After that, I threw myself into my government civilian job full time and slowly fell into depression. By the end of our relationship, with the toll of doing 99% of the work around the house and for her and with my dreams dead and buried, at age 33, I would wake up and pray I died. I would never kill myself, but I wanted to just die. I felt backed into a corner. I still did everything I could to support her and hoped that one day, she would pick up some of the load and maybe, just maybe, I could go back, but that day did not come (At least not in the way I expected).
Part 6: The Aftermath
This post is already too long, and if I include every single detail that has come to light since, I might actually hit the post cap, but I will go over at least some of it here.
I have had my friends come out in droves. Both of them have been effectively exiled, at least from what I can see, from every friend circle we have. After a couple of days, they flew back to live with, I guess, his parents in Vegas while they sorted shit out, because after I spoke with Z's previous roommate, he adamantly explained he was tired of all the "fucking drama" that Z had been bringing into the house and was just done with it.
I have spoken with many, many people and gotten even more context and even receipts of some of each of their conversations to our mutual friends, and some of the shit I read is just hilarious. He is "not ashamed of pursuing happiness, he is just sad that people got hurt". She is "coming to terms with emotional neglect and felt trapped, but now, yes now, she is free."
I got my neighbors to watch the cats, and took my dog up to visit my closest friend of 20 years and spent about a week and a half drinking, smoking, and talking about all this while surrounded by some of the most beautiful nature the US has to offer. Truly, without this man, I don't think I'd have gotten this far as quickly as I have. He really has been a lifesaver and I truly, to my dying day, will always appreciate him.
Paperwork has been filed, we wish to remain on good terms, and one day I still do hope I can be a friend to her, but she is woefully immature and incapable of adequately performing in an adult society. I have quit my job and am returning to school with a much lighter budget and will be getting that degree I desperately need.
It's been hard, real hard. I have put every ounce of my being into this relationship, and I truly felt like she was part of me, and nothing like this could ever happen. But it's that trust that allowed this to happen. I do not hate her, I'm just disappointed. I will pick up my pieces and, hopefully, find myself whole again soon.
Part 7: Rambling anecdotes
These are some stories I wanted to include in the previous body of text but didn't feel like it kept the same flow (if there even is any at all, I'm not proofreading this). If I remember any others after I post, Ill just toss them in the comments.
Early after Z came to live with us, my mother came to the house to drop off a package. I am pretty sure I was at work, but when my mother came to the door, both of them answered the door and the way my mom describes it "First of all, do you answer the door at your friends house? Also, the way he hovered over her made me uncomfortable. They were in the doorway and he was right up behind her poking his head out." She said my wife had told her that I was feeling unwell and was upstairs sleeping. I can't even be sure at this point.
Shortly before all the things happened, my parents were going out of town to celebrate their own anniversary, and I had agreed to dog-sit their 5 month old puppy (who, while cute, has WAY too much energy and was EXTREMELY difficult to handle, and I have raised several dogs at this point). We met up and took the dog, and then ALL of us (including Z) went to dinner. At dinner, my mother looked at my wife and asked, directly "And so how long have you been married? 6, almost 7 years? Well at least you missed that 7 year itch, huh" and my wife shortly followed with a comment about how she was not hungry and did not eat dinner that night.
All of this happened WHILE THIS CRAZY PUPPY was running around the house, and part of me thinks he pushed this to happen when it did because he could not stand having to help take care of this dog any longer (2 days).
About a week after all this happened, my wife did not text or call me, or respond to any messages or emails I sent her (I didn't send many, but they exist). Frustrated, I text her and tell her I need to talk to her about logistics moving forward, specifically about her belongings. She told me "I will talk to you when I am ready." We did not talk for another week. Also, she told me to stop talking to her mom. (I have a good relationship with both of my in-laws and while her step-father tried to remain impartial to the best of his abilities, he gave me some of the best advice I could possibly have gotten at that time, mostly about how to move forward and cope, as he has personally dealt with this with smaller relationships 3 separate times in his life which he gave me details on, and we are still on good terms.)
Their favorite TV show to watch together was Outlander, which, if you aren't aware, is basically a story about a woman who time travels and has two men in her life.
One of our biggest constant points of contention was my friendship with an old high school buddy (who I spent much of the time in the aftermath hanging out with while healing). We believe, with good reason, that she hated this man because after I had almost been hospitalized for psych reasons due to stress, he had told me I needed to talk to her about working again and doing more to help around the house. She figured out, obviously, who was telling me to say these things, and sent a very, very angry text to his wife. They all apparently made up, but I know she never let that grudge go.
One of the fairly recent hobbies I got into was D&D. It seemed like a good fit for all of us. She loved fantasy and gaming, I enjoyed 3d printing and story telling. She needed friends, and a party of people hangin out would give her at least a few connections to start. Every night she "participated" in D&D, she mostly sat quiet and did not do anything. Hell, I tried to get her to participate in 2 different games, and after she left the first one, she asked to just sit quietly in the discord call (This first one was online only, second was in person) and listen, which was super awkward. In the in person game, after 3 months of playing, she did not know how to play her character at all, and mostly spent her time at the table crocheting. (My buddy even made a comment about how at one point, he was proud of how good I was getting at DMing and I was giving particularly good exposition, and she interrupted me to hand another player at the table a dice bag she made. I don't remember it, but I absolutely believe this happened.)
The day of "the incident", she had a meltdown about how a friend of hers had ghosted her. I told her it was okay, she was much younger anyway and people grow apart. She's probably going through stuff and we should respect that path she's on. She cried about how she has no friends.
Also the day of "the incident", we were in the shower together and she told me she had met her sister's new BF on facetime. I asked "why did she break up with her old one?" "Well... she cheated on him." "Oh, that's a shame. Cheating is probably the most cowardly act a person can do to another. If you're going to start a new relationship, you need to grow a pair and end it before starting a new one." She clearly took my words to heart.
One of my biggest pet peeves about cleaning the house is our dog sheds, a lot. If I see a hairball roll through the house it immediately drains me a bit. We had a roomba. She would send that thing home when it started and never start it again. It barely ran. She would not vacuum.
One of the most common descriptors of her I've heard used by many people now that they're "allowed to" is "She was there, doing the thing with us, but it was like she wasn't there."
Something she thought that I apparently hadn't figured out by the time we talked after everything happened was that they had been talking since February. I told her I wasn't stupid and had figured it out already that this wasn't out of the blue.
Z's wife is currently pregnant with the baby of the man she cheated on him with. (And he is also married)
Anything else I remember Ill leave for comments, I know there is much, much more.

Introduction

There was a post that was recently posted and it's been asked a ton: "How do I get a computer science related job after I graduate from KSU?". I thought I'd share this with everyone because I've been down this path and managed to make it on the other side. This will be a long explanation and hopefully, can serve as some sort of guide for students. That being said, things are subjective and this is not the holy grail of how to make it. You might find all, some or none of it useful. I encourage testimonials and whatnot in the comments. Can be applied to all majors but, this primary for technology-based majors since I am in tech field. YMMV

About Me

I've been around here for a while. I was a student not too long ago, studied computer science for my bachelors. After graduating, I work in FAANG and have worked in big tech for a while. No, I don't work at Amazon. I am a senior software engineer. I touch frontend & backend technologies. I participate in hiring frequently.

Starting Out

Over the years and while attending here, there's been a weird disconnect between students, goals and how to achieve them in tech. Goals can be anywhere from learning new technologies, getting internships to securing a full time job before or after you graduate. As much as I would love for there to be a path where you can do minimum effort and still succeed, there isn't. A lot of you seem to not realize that. Getting a degree in this field is not enough. Doing projects that show no passion / interests is not enough. Being stuck on tutorials for years is not enough.
This field is much like a sport. There are very few people that can just be great without any effort. You have to be consistent. Four years is not a lot of time. It goes by super fast. If you constantly push things back and you do not take the time to learn the fundamentals outside the classroom, you will not succeed in this field. This field is at a point where there's so many of you. Every post on LinkedIn and news articles said "hey, this field is a gold mine and you'll make six figures out the gate". For a time, maybe that was somewhat true. As of writing this, it's not. You're going against people who have: better schools, better experience, etc. You have to find a way to diversify yourself early. If you can't diversify, you're going to be in a tough place later down the road. Knowledge not something you can just consume in less than an hour and pass an interview. You have to know it well. If you don't, there's someone else who will.
There's an interesting connotation in life that you're either born super smart or an absolute idiot and that you have to be smart to do computer science / programming. There are people with raw IQ that can consume things like no one you've ever met but, that's such a rarity that there's no realistic use in using that as a data point. If you ever took the time to ask someone who you thought was really good at something, they would tell you something along the lines of: I love what I do and I spent a lot of time doing this. There are hours and hours of time people put into passions that you don't / will never see. Meaning that they can no-life this shit for days on end and still come back and do it some more. It doesn't mean that you can't succeed if don't do that but, computing / programming is a very boring field if you do not enjoy it. I would seriously contemplate why you're going through this. If you're doing it for money and only money, you're going to end up miserable. No amount of money can make you do something you hate. It'll wear you down both mentally and physically. If you're doing this because it's a mix of passion and money, you're like everyone else and you gave yourself a better shot. It's a mental thing. Don't climb uphill if you rather sit at the bottom. Don't complain if you're at the bottom and you rather be at the top. There's nothing wrong with that. But, don't do it. For what it's worth, I am not the smartest person. I graduated high school with a low GPA and took college seriously because I wanted to do more with my life. Plus, being on hourly forever sounds horrible imo. Use the opportunities that life has given to you and run with it. Run far, run smart and run in a direction that you can see yourself going long-term.
Additionally, college is what you make of it. Blaming professors or the program (while I do agree sometimes) is not a solution. Blaming professors that don't speak English is a cop out. If you work in tech, you'll be interacting with a lot of people from other countries. Suck it up. Work with it instead of against it. Professors and TAs can only teach you so much. Classes are meant to give you a taste of what it's like in that domain / space. It's not meant to fix all your issues and show you the way. That's for you to do on your own time. Take accountability of your own success, explore the internet (it's free) and lock in. Stop looking for opportunities to find you. Actively seek them out yourself.

Networking

Make connections with people. I cannot stress how important this is. Especially on the Marietta campus, there's a lot of you that go to class, stingers / food, run to class and immediately start gaming and think that when your classes are over, you're done for the day. That's a bad mindset. Make connections with people. Sit with random people at stingers or wherever. Have a conversation. Find a common interest. Don't harass men / women for a date while you're at it. Keep it cool. A lot of people say "there's nothing to do at KSU and there's no life on campus". That's not true at all. It's true if you choose to put your head in a box and refuse to look up. Join a club that interests you. Get close to the people in that club who actively attend and build a personal relationship. If there's no club with your interest, make a club. Fuck it, lead one. You can make one officially through KSU or add a discord server to the student hub and go from there. You'll meet some really cool like-minded people. Lots of my connections have come from randomly showing up to a club, getting out of my comfort zone and weirdly enjoying it.

Interviewing

Brush up on your interview skills. Technical and behavioral abilities matter. Culture fit matters. A lot of you seem to walk around with almost zero personal hygiene. Clean yourself up, practice talking to people and get places. There's been this stigma that culture fit doesn't matter as much as technical and if I have great technical abilities, they'll just accept me. I can tell you for an absolutely fact that I have thrown out / tossed out resumes from highly technical individuals that had zero people skills. If you can't communicate and clean up, you're more of a risk than someone who does all those things and has a bit less technical ability. I can teach someone how to code. I can't teach someone how to take a shower or brush their teeth. Know more than just Leetcode. Learn system design. Take a course / watch a video on Linux and bash. Do not be afraid of the command line interface. Understand how things work at a deeper level. Take feedback seriously. Do not argue with people. If you future manager / colleague tells you that you need to work on things, work on those things. There's nothing worse than a co-worker in denial.

Jobs

As for internships and full time opportunities, there's a few classes at KSU that you really want to master: Data structures, Algorithm Analysis, Operating Systems and Discrete math. If you're in a major that doesn't have those classes, spend the extra money and take those classes. Do not take them online if you can afford to come in person. Take the hardest / best professors for those courses. Super important. Leetcode is quite literally, those classes merged together in a prompt-style format. If you do not understand those concepts, you will not make it in this field let alone pass an interview loop.
Data Structures - Varies. Rate my professor.
Algorithm Analysis - Varies. Rate my professor.
Operating Systems - Do not take Carla McManus if you want to learn the concepts fluently.
Discrete Math - Andy Wilson.
Having solid resume is super important. Many people who don't secure things and get automatically rejected, etc have horrible resumes. Spend the money (it's a lot) to get your resume professionally written. It's worth it. Invest in your long term career aspirations. Templates are cool but, they don't convey information well and come across as lazy. Don't put every achievement ever on there. I don't want to see a wall of text. No, I don't care if you're a Boy Scout. No, I don't care if you bussed tables in high school. You get the point. The rule of "only one page" is complete and total bullshit. If you have projects and prior work experience related to the role, list it down. Don't conserve space for the sake of keeping it one page. You're limiting yourself. I know the career center actively tells people on handshake to keep it to one page. They're wrong. I landed internships & full time roles consistently at big tech / FAANG for years with a 1.5 / 2 page resume. Do not lie on your resume. If you can't solve a leetcode hard consistently with the technology / language of choice, you don't know it well enough. I have interviewed a ton of students and people that list they know C or Python and can't write recursion or gives me a solution in O(N^2) or worse. Aim for O(N), use a hashmap / hash table when you can and do it in a language that doesn't make you fight the runtime / compiler. Trust me, we know when you're making shit up. If you don't know something say it and then, tell them to explain more. This way, you show that you have the capability to learn. Ask smart questions. Do not ask questions that have already been answered. Take notes.
On your resume, experience is only real experience if you get a W2. If you don't get a W2, you can't claim it as professional experience. A lot of background checks these days are drilling down on incorrect information. I have seen instances where people lie, get an offer, company finds out through a comprehensive background check and their offer is gone. Do not put the fate of your future income on a lie. I cannot stress this enough. A lot of students and people actively lie.
Secondly, the trick to getting a good internship is timing. A lot of you wait until Nov - Dec to find an internship and then, throw your hands up when no one responds. That's not a good mindset. Solid internships are recruiting in end of July to August. By September, the amount of open spots are extremely thin. Local companies tend to look for internships during this time. Internships are about luck after that. Reach out to people in your circle to increase your odds. A referral goes a long way. Prior experience through projects that are complex and unique go a long way. It's a numbers game. Don't aim for the highest thing ever without some sort of referral. You can still apply but, do not expect much from it. Start small and work your way up. It's extremely rare to go from KSU undergrad sophomore to Google. It takes a lot of outside work. If you happen to land the internship, make sure that you get recommendations at the end. Having real people who you worked with in a professional capacity that can vouch for you is huge. If you're in your junior year and you get an internship, make sure you try to secure a full time offer. Loop in your boss, mentor, etc. Make your expectations clear. Reach their expectations and beyond.
Thirdly, full time opportunities are rare and most new grads that get hired come from the previous year's intern pool. If you don't get converted, you have to make up that time searching for a job during your senior year. If you do get converted, keep looking because companies are flaky these days. Always have a Plan B & C. Never fully count on Plan A. If you don't have internships across four years, it's over for you. From a hiring manager perspective, it's an absolute red flag when we come across someone with a degree and no internships. That's effectively going against the point of college. You'll have to settle for crumbs and crawl your way up. Very few make it out of that hole. The bar is significantly higher. Especially, now.

Searching for an Opportunity

Do not wait until after you graduate to find a job. Jan - Early May are when most companies finalize budgets and hire. If you wait until after May, you'll might have to wait until after the Summer and possibly, October for hiring to pick up again. Proactivity is nothing but good for you. If you can't be proactive then, you won't succeed in this field. Referrals matter but, personal connections with the hiring manager / recruiter are much, much better. Work your way up. Don't discount an opportunity because it doesn't pay well. Get as much experience as you can and bounce around. Do not go into the gate thinking you're going to make $120K - $140K / yr out the gate. You're most-likely going to make $68K - $75K / yr depending on the location. Do not listen to LinkedIn posts that claim all this cool shit and how to do it. Trust me, it's bullshit. Don't pay attention to it. It's a brag-fest. It's a long road. Start walking on it early and you'll reach the other side when it matters most. Trust in it.
The reality of this economy is that highly experience people have been laid off. Those people are applying to entry level roles and those roles are being filled for cheap. In addition, watch out for fake postings and scam jobs. If you take a contract job, always keep looking. Avoid jobs that will providing "training" before you even start. Avoid jobs that are less than week old. You want things that are fresh. It's a numbers game. Apply for 300+ jobs every week until you get a response back. Don't be discouraged by employers who don't respond or ghost you. Keep at it. It's a mental game.

Conclusion

I think if you do these things, you'll end up at a great spot after four years. If you're just now coming across this and you've been slacking, use this an opportunity to wake the fuck up, light a fire under your ass and lock in. If you're still in denial after reading this post and you have yet to get anything, light a fire under your ass, come to terms with it and lock in.
If you're in it to do zero work, cheat on your classes, mess around for four years and somehow wing a high salary or a job in this field, good luck. You're fucked. You're so fucked, in-fact, that you'll be wondering "why me and why is it so hard" for a long ass time. Don't be that person.

Cool Resources

Git - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvUiKWv2-C0
Github (use this as your portfolio; web devs should make an actual clean website) - https://github.com
Github Student Pack (tons of free resources) - https://education.github.com/pack
Linux Handbook - https://linuxhandbook.com/ Linux Quickguide - https://github.com/mikeroyal/Linux-Guide
Lots of subreddits geared around linux and programming. Great resources to find.
Understand: Kernel Space vs. User Space, Memory Allocation / Deallocation, Bitwise Operations, Memory blocks, processes and threads, context switching
System Design Primer - https://github.com/donnemartin/system-design-primer
Understand: Monolith vs. Micro-services, Tradeoffs between different approaches, Vertical vs. Horizontal Scaling, Load Balancers, Buckets, Data lakes, CI / CD Pipelines, Data Clusters, Client-Server Architecture, Synchronous vs. Asynchronous Context: System design is like a giant puzzle that has many forms. Create a basic design. It won't be perfect. Mix-and-match different services and know why, how and tradeoffs between each approach.
Programming language is dependent on the role and what the company favors. Common ones are Java, C++, Python, C#, JavaScript / TypeScript and C. You can look at jobs that you would like to work someday, look at the requirements and use that as a basis on where to start learning. Things constantly change. Fundamentals build up on each other. Start small. Work your way up. Do not dream big. Dream realistic. Everyone is different.

According to my knowledge, we've seen some loose variations of Flashing Lights 2 performed 4 times, in both public and private settings. These haven't ever really been the same and we have never seen a verse. The first time we saw it was in 2009, pre Taylor Swift, and the last time we saw it was right before MBDTF.
I'm starting to doubt that the song is actually more than just an extra live bridge for Flashing Lights. In that famous Charlie Wilson and Ye in the studio video, Ye talks about wanting to get Tony Williams on it. This would make sense, as during the earliest of the four instances, Tony is seen singing the bridge with Ye.
However, I reached out to Tony Williams on Instagram and he said that he did not recall Ye ever contacting him about Flashing Lights 2. He did say there was a possibility it could exist, but from everything we have, I seriously doubt it does.

Mae Govannen Everyone!
Bird Watchers has merged with Raenruin Reborn on Arkenstone! This means that lower-level-cap-projects are now easier to find!
What are lower-level-cap-projects and why might they be appealing? They are when like-minded people get together to run previous content at the appropriate level. This is done by locking experience gain using the stone of the tortoise, an item available in the LOTRO store for 100 LP, allowing players to experience the “end-game” of the respective level-cap. Some examples of our players are: newer players who haven’t experienced those level caps, returning players who missed certain caps, older players who enjoyed particular level caps and want to play through them again on different characters, and more.
We currently have a level 50 Rift group that's attempting to clear T3 with Shadows of Angmar-only gear and without LIs. We're looking for more for this project for all roles. Currently we are running on Tuesday evenings starting around 8PM EST.
We also have a level 65 group graduating from Moria content and we are recruiting for all roles. The 65 group runs on Monday evenings (though that is tentative as the schedule has not been set yet).
Our main group is running 105 content, we've killed all of the Throne bosses on T2, and we're halfway through working on the Challenge Modes for them as well. The 105 raid runs on Sunday evenings from 8:15 PM EST.
If you like doing lower level group content on level and want to experience taking the time to gear and progress through older raids with a dedicated group then come check us out! We are a casual to semi-casual kin - this means that any of our players are welcome to join the easier content, but players that want to join our T2 raids need to put in a bit more effort into gearing their characters and learning their class in order for us to clear the content. But do not be deterred, as we will help with whatever is needed.
Though we have our official caps we raid at, we are also open to other level content as well! Many of us have characters at various levels. We know that there aren’t as many people that play through the old content, so if you don’t wish to leave your kin but want to see what we’re up to and raid with us every now and then, you are also welcome to join our discord. If you have questions, want to join us, or even start your own group, please contact us.
You can reach out for a invite through our Discord https://discord.gg/FGVUZQqKck

Can someone please explain what this float down policy means? Specifically, is a float down capped to .125 and the market must be at .25 lower to actually get that .125?
Float down policy -the rate can only be renegotiated 1 time -current market rate must be lower by .125% -current market price at lower rate must be better than original price by at least 50bps (e.g. 7% must be 100.50 if locked rate is 7.125% at 100.00) -current market price will be based on the same lock period as original lock term -float down will be limited to reduction in rate of .125%. In some cases we may approve a float down of .25% but the same pricing criteria above does not apply. Price must increase by a minimum of 100 bps to consider a float down of .25% -float downs will not be granted if closing is within 5 days

This has def been discussed, but I have yet to see it all in one place. I’ve compiled a list of all the times Drake either 1. Compliments Kendrick or 2. Disses himself from First Person Shooter through THE HEART PART 6. It’s crazy how obvious Drake’s envy over Kendrick’s artistry is fully on display. It’s giving jealous bully classmate tbh.

Every time Drake thought he was dissing Kendrick but really he was just relentlessly complimenting him:

Taylor Made Freestyle

• Tupac (AI)
  • Kendrick, we need ya, the West Coast savior
    • Engraving your name in some hip-hop history
    • If you deal with this viciously
    • You seem a little nervous about all the publicity
    • Fuck this Canadian lightskin, Dot
    • We need a no-debated West Coast victory, man
    • Call him a bitch for me (done)
• Snoop Dogg (AI)
  • Nephew, what the fuck you really 'bout to do?
    • We passed you the torch at the House of Blues
    • And now you gotta do some dirty work,
    • You know how to move, right? Right? (absolutely)
• Drake
  • You better have a motherfuckin’ quintuple entendre on that shit
    • Some shit I don’t even understand, like
    • That shit better be crazy (corny af; I cannot believe Aubrey meant this as a diss, bro is straight up telling Kendrick that he is more lyrically gifted)

Family Matters

• Always rappin’ like you ‘bout to get the slaves freed (so…with passion?)
• Kendrick just opened his mouth, someone go hand him a Grammy right now (Drake Grammy wins: 5, Kendrick Grammy wins: 17)
• They shook about what I’ma say, but textin’ your phone like “We already won” (they did)

THE HEART PART 6

• The Pulitzer Prize winner is definitely spiralin’ (Grammy diss pt 2)
• Instead you in that Venice studio, it’s a celebration (“We already won” pt. 2)

Every time Drake thought he was dissing Kendrick but really he was just relentlessly dissing himself:

First Person Shooter

• I search one name and end up seein’ twenty tings (sounds uncannily like “20 teens”)
• Will they ever give me flowers? Well, of course not (oof)
• They know The Boy, the one they gotta boycott (self-own)

Push Ups

• I’m out in Tokyo because I’m big in Japan (he will need to move to Japan after all of this is said and done)
• What’s a prince to a king? He a son, ni**a (proceeds to diss MJ in Family Matters)
• Drop and give me fifty, all you fuck ni**as teamin’ up (“Why are you all picking on me?”)
• What top five you smokin’ on, Kendrick? (cornyyyyyy)

Push Ups + Family Matters

• I was really, really tryna keep it PG (those are the only movies the girls he likes can see)

Taylor Made Freestyle

• Ni**as usually send they verses back to me and they be terrible, just like a two-year-old (“Yes I am such a prolific writer that other rappers send their verses to me and I can tell when they are good or bad I do not have ghostwriters of any kind at all no sir not me.”)

Family Matters

• You mentioned my seed, now deal with his dad (he did not publicly claim Adonis until eight months after his birth)
• You better have some paperwork or that shit fake tea (in retrospect of the MTG cover)
• I mean it’s true a ni**a slimed me for my AP (self-own)
• Say you hate the girls a fuck, but what you really mean? (girls =/= women; Kendrick had not mentioned the pedophilia allegations at this point yet)
• Ni**a said “Uh, uh,” almost started reachin’ for my waist (...bro; can be interpreted as reaching for a gun or his dick)
• Ozempic got a side effect of jealousy and doctor never told y’all ni**as (I cannot believe this came out of his mouth knowing he has an Ozempic prescription; this was before the MTG cover dropped)
• Which one of my so-called ni**as need a shell from the clip? (admitting to the OVO mole)
• Ross callin’ me the white boy and the shit kind of got a ring to it (self-own)
• A cease and desist is for hoes (this man literally pulled a C&D on French Montana and possibly/probably “Like That”)
• You called the Tupac estate and begged ‘em to sue me and get that shit down (because that C&D actually had footing)

THE HEART PART 6

• [Sample: Now let me see ya prove it] (self-own, especially in light of the MTG cover)
• The ones that you’re getting your stories from, they all clowns
  • [4 lines later] We plotted for a week, and then fed you the information (self-explanatory)
• I am a war general, seasoned in preparation
  • My jacket is covered in medals, honor, and decoration (this is a RAP battle, Aubrey)
• The Epstein angle was the shit I expected (Kendrick never mentioned Epstein)
• Aw, fuck me, I just made the whole connection (he didn’t)
• I don’t wanna diss you anymore, this really got me second-guessin’ (he misunderstood the entire verse he just rapped)
• If I was fucking young girls, I promise I’d have been arrested ("I was fucking young girls, I promise")
• Drake is not a name that you gon’ see on no sex offender list (...okay Aubrey -__-)
• You mentionin’ A minor, but ni**as gotta B sharp and tell the fans, “Who was it?”
  • You thought you left D flat, D major (cornyyy)
• Only fuckin’ with Whitneys, not Millie Bobby Browns (Kendrick never mentioned MBB)
• I give a fuck about your streamin’ data (he really does)
• I don’t wanna fight with a woman beater, it feeds your nature (calling himself a woman; “When I see you stand by Sexxy Red, I believe you see two bad bitches”)
• I’m not gonna lie, this shit was some good exercise, like [sucks in air]
  • It’s good to get out, get the pen workin’ (corny, also fitting that one of the only times we can be certain Aubrey wrote the entire track himself, it’s basically one big self-diss)

Edit: formatting

tldr: I ran The Portal for some friends, and we all had a good time. I'd call it successful because we had three characters out of 16 survive, one for each person playing, but they didn't get through everything. Could I have motivated better problem solving and a thirst for more exploration?
Background: Last year I fell in love with DCC after reading about it here and elsewhere. I bought a couple bundles and I convinced my friends to let me run it for an impromptu in-person session about a month ago, (We're all in our 40s and in other games so finding time to play is always going to be tricky.) We were all hanging out with them visiting for the weekend, and the DCC rulebook caught my friends eye. Since I had wanted to judge it, I suggested we try it out on their final night in town, and printed out five 0-level four member character sheets from Purple Sorcerer. There were three players, so my plan was to control two(!) of the 0 level sheets as 8 NPCs.
Session 0: This was done right before the first session, so maybe it doesn't count. I did go over how this game wasn't 5e, being less heroic, more deadly, and that the funnel was a way to play the game during the character creation process,
Spoilers follow for The Portal Under the Stars
Session 1: I had them each have a character named Roberts, with "Oldman Roberts" being their weird uncle, telling them about the Empty Star, the portal, and the riches that presumably lied within. They stopped at the town's single pub, gathered the crew, and headed for the portal. Once there, they spent impatiently picked the lock with a "lucky" roll, frying a promising character and setting the tone.
Three more got killed by the spear throwers, including an NPC with 18 intelligence, my bad. Finally, the falconer of the group sent her hawk through, trigging the last spear with no damage. So far I felt okay about how things were going, as they were starting to think laterally. However, nobody picked up the spears or armor until I had some of my NPCs do it.
The large statue room proved to be equally as deadly. The most intrepid of the party were spared, as they were standing under the giant statue, investigating it, when the first PC decided to leave the room, getting instantly BBQed. Another party member sent in her dog, which got fried, but then she got killed after she collapsed in grief beside it. A couple characters dashed through while the statue burned the others, and one genius player did think to pry off the entrance door and use it as a shield, but still four characters and the dog lied burned on the floor by the time the statue ran out of charges. I felt a little bad, since the death toll was already at eight with the judge's dice coming up badly for the PCs nearly every time. Now that I write this, it also seems that I gave the statue six charges instead of five. Oops.
The characters that had gone through the eastern door noped out of there when they saw the bone piles, and we ended up with three PCs following an NPC through the north door. Here's where I made another mistake. Since it had been some time since I had sent the NPC north, I decided that he had picked a fight with the crystal men and been killed. The PCs came in to see the crystal men all standing around the dead NPC and his torch. They took the wrong lesson that a fight was inevitable and immediately attacked. Amazingly, one PC felled two crystal men on his own, but the other two were brought down. With four crystal men still closing in on the last PC in the room we called it a night.
Session 2: About a month later we were able to meet virtually to finish things off, with me gifting the four remaining surviving NPCs to the players. Since I realized that I hadn't emphasized the importance of using luck, I retconned the last room, allowing one PC with a high luck score another chance to trip one of the crystal men with his staff. He succeeded this time with a modest luck burn. The players had figured out the light attraction by then, but refused to metagame, and the selfish PC who figured things out, Stealin' Roberts, refused to tell the others. I suppose this was consistent with his chaotic alignment, so one crystal man did follow them into the Strategy room, falling down the stairs. Three of the PCs finished off the stalker, found the silver figurine treasure, and things were finally looking up for the treasure hunters.
At last, they had made their way into the clay army room. The trailblazing PC wisely turned tail upon seeing the advancing army, going back to smash all of the clay figurines in the strategy room. Not bad thinking, but nope, the warlord wasn't dumb enough to set up a weakness like that. This showed the party how slow the clay soldiers were, as he had plenty of time to do it, but two of them still decided to test the statues' metal. They were quickly skewered by the surprisingly sharp clay spears. The remaining PC in the room ran away and hid in the Gazing Pool room for a few rounds, cowering in terror behind a column.
Meanwhile, one PC made his way through the hallway west of the Monument Hall, cautiously opening the door to the Scrying chamber. SSisssuraaaggg didn't care how cautious he was, the PC lost initiative, and died in one bite. So much for that room.
Three other PCs made their way into the Cheiftains' Burial room, and made short work of the seven skulls with only five points of luck burned. Still, one skull did manage to kill a PC in a single calf chomp. The PC in the Gazing Pool room grew tired of hiding in the dark and groped his way to the burial chamber, so unfortunately nobody witnessed the army fall into chaos after the generals' skulls were smashed. The three reunited survivors looted the chamber and hightailed it out of the tomb, happy to survive.
I couldn't argue with their decision to survive, and I plan to award a luck point to the neutral alignment PC who suggested leaving, but it was certainly anticlimactic! I feel like the scenario is flawed in this aspect. Could I or should I have motivated the players to stay for a little longer? They never really tried to figure out why the place existed in the first place. Leaving was very consistent with the old-school mentality, but maybe not so consistent with the funnel spirit. This scenario was harder than I thought, I even skipped "attacks of opportunity" on retreating PCs to lower the difficulty a bit.
Lesson learned - my snap decision of having 8 NPCs caused problems. The players kept trying to force the NPCs ahead, etc, and it was too much for me to judge my first session while controlling 8 NPCs. Although the players did end up needing the extra spear fodder and that worked out, I should have instead just adjusted the difficulty of the scenario down a little by reducing the number of spear throwers, the number of flame thrower charges, etc.

It wasn’t consensual. Either way. Originally he told me it was when I posted about it yesterday, but he came to me last night and said he didn’t deserve my support, he said he was just as bad.
She was his aunt, they were the same age. She spent his whole childhood touching him inappropriately in his sleep starting at the age of 11 anytime she would come over, he wouldn’t react, he’d just freeze up and pretend to be asleep until she was done with him.
On his 19th birthday, she came over and brought alcohol. Everyone at the party drank, he drank a bit too much but managed to pass out in his bed. When he woke up she was fully on top of him, he said when he realized who it was he wanted to cry but couldn’t, he tried to get up but she just put a blanket over his face and didn’t stop until she was done with him. When she was gone he thought about what just happened for a bit and managed to go back to sleep.
Every birthday, she started doing it to him. He’d drink and wake up to her doing this to him, she would invite herself over so he had no way to hide from her, she was his moms sister after all, outside of what she was doing to him they had a regular family relationship neither of them mentioned it to anyone, not even each other. Eventually he got a lock on his door so when she would come over he would lock himself in his room away from her, he told me the first night he realized something bad wasn’t happening to him because she finally couldn’t get to him, he didn’t even sleep, he felt so happy.
So Everytime she would come over he would go to bed, with his door locked and he was safe. He also started drinking less, he was always told to drink more by her, he was an alcoholic at the time and she made sure to take advantage of that. But he started filling his shot glass with water. She would get too drunk and she would pass out before him. He would go to bed safe.
One day she brought over her boyfriend and he treated her very good, he bought her expensive things and gave her love and affection. She mentioned how she tried anal but she didn’t like it so her boyfriend didn’t pressure her into it again. This made my boyfriend angry, he hated that she got an option, she got to say what she wanted, she got to say no but she never gave him that choice.
That night they drank, he went to his room, locked the door and thought about how lucky she was. She didn’t have anything bad happening to her, she had a choice so why did he deserve this? He left his room. He kicked her lightly and she didn’t wake up, he tapped her face lightly, she didn’t wake up, he splashed water in her face, she didn’t wake up. So he sat there for a long time but eventually did what she had been doing to him all these years. He would yell at her as he did it, telling her that he didn’t deserve that, that he trusted her and she ruined his childhood, he would ask her how she liked it, and he would tell her that he was just glad it finally wasn’t him, that now it was her. but of course she wouldn’t wake up to answer. He would finish and come back minutes later to do it again, he’d yell at her every single time, sometimes he would cry.
So that’s how it was now, she would come over, he would be safe from her. She wouldn’t hurt him. They would drink, he would fake his shots, they would go to bed. Sometimes he would just lock himself in his room and do nothing, he was just happy it wasn’t him, she wasn’t hurting him anymore. But sometimes he would do what she did to him. Every time he would yell at her and say all the things he wanted to say to her.
He explained that he felt like she deserved it, that even if he told anyone she wouldn’t go to jail, she would get away with it, he explained that jail was better than how she made him feel, he had to live with the fear and trauma everyday.
It reminded me of this time he and I drank, we had a bath together, he drank too much and started crying, he wouldn’t tell me why. But I got him out of the bath and put him to bed, he never put his clothes on and just fell asleep like that. When he woke up and realized he wasn’t wearing anything I remember the way he looked at me, he looked like he wanted to cry, he asked if I touched him and I told him I didn’t. He looked relieved when I told him that, but the way he looked, the horror and sadness on his face, I’ll never forget that. Now it makes sense, I asked him about it and he said he just had a mini memory and sorta forgot who he was really with.
When she passed away after an OD it hit him hard, he told me it felt like a trauma relief but he was so devastated that she would never apologize for what she did to him. He felt like he never got closure.
I was also r-worded when I was younger, I remember hoping that the person who did it to me would experience the same thing. In a weird way I understand how he felt and oddly enough I don’t blame him because I understand how it felt, to be powerless and want to gain that power back, to also wish that person knew how it really felt. But how do we move on from this? I’m very conflicted and full of a lot of emotions but I love him dearly.
Edit: details.