An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?

An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?

I got recently diagnosed of Schizotypal Personality Disorder because of my referring different mythology, deities, and religious concepts interconnected with each other.
I was suffering from depression from roughly around 2015 to 2019 then there would be moments when I would get a lack of sleep and I would feel better (hypomanic) this went on for a while me cycling depression and hypomania. It wasn't until 2018 that I was introduced to cannabis being high opened my eyes to new possibilities like I could be this happy. I realized I'm a highly anxious person and cannabis allows me to relax.
In 2020 I had a psychotic episode where I was walking with my mom to the subway and I was on my way to an interview with Equinox to become a Personal Trainer, I just wanted to help people get better. During the subway ride, I was happy as a peach, but then I heard whispering from the other side of the subway cart, it was a little who was just mumbling to herself and she was just looking around with a paranoid taste. I looked at her and sent her love and kindness and she nodded at me and closed her eyes. Then I received a text from Jude mentioning about Flushing Printer, but I interpreted it as I need to go to Flushing Hospital. I left the subway cart and I called an Uber, as my Uber lifted me up I had an internal monologue, I had a voice.
The voice said "Son you are worthy, to be King!", the worthy part I liked, but becoming a King I said "I don't know want to be a King and be burdened with responsibility" I asked the Uber Driver where he was from, Brooklyn = King so I said he can be king. Then I went to call two people who I had a crush at the time, one I would be referred to as a Lady Sif and another a Valkyrie, I just automatically assumed their title and they responded normally. I assume I was Thor.
I got to Flushing Hospital and I bypass the security and followed an old man going to see his daughter or wife, I still have no reason why I was there, I thought I was going to perform a miracle, and I was on the 4th floor by then. I was answering's doctor's call which were empty. Then the medical staff noticed I was there, there was another older gentleman who said "You have nice hair" and my Grandfather would say the same thing.
The security team arrived to escort me out and they were disappointed in themselves for missing me and allowing me to come in, they were annoyed by my presence.
Since then I've gone through many Archetype.
Marvel Thor was cast out of Heaven due to arrogance and to learn humility. I equate that to Lucifer, a lightbearer, and Lucifer is equates to a Dragon. I have this book call "An Initiate's Guide to the Path of the Dragon" which ties everything for Dragon path.
I went through a plethora of ArcheType I really thought I was God because I was able to create a pantheon a series of what I would call evidence.
Aang The Avatar: The Last Air Bender shares the same name as my Vietnamese Name "An" it's pronounced the same. An in Sumerian is number 60, I am also number 60 in my Kung Fu Lineage. Then I received the name "Samuel Wiest" and from there things started to get biblical. I have a degree in BTech Computer Information system so I started to see things as in codes.
I would mean "Daniel" would be "God is my judge" and Ingram "angel, raven, or ruler" the most recent archetype if Dream, and I would use his Family Tree mostly recognizing the different archetypes and characters around me.
I received a Hot Pink Umbrella that said Dream Hotel from a local park that has Graffiti "I LOVE YOU JESUS!" and "ELI" "MER" "SIL" and "SUPA" tagged on the billboard.
I've cycled through and attached to different archetypes, I still use Dream and N30 Morpheus as my "high self".
Anansi the Spider, King of Stories, and Loki, God of Stories has been resonating a lot.
I meant this clown named Spatz Donavan and he worked with Jim Carey to get into spirituality, he worked with performers like Michael Jackson. I called Spatz Merlin, but Merlin is also Odin and I'm Loki his blood brother.
There are just a lot of things that happened that connect to each other, like the show Mr. Robot and Raganarok the endings are the same where it was all in the character's head.
On Facebook, there a lot of people who seem to pick up on the Lucifer archetype and then Lucifer in the Netflix series becomes a boddhisatva of Hell.
There is a trend where Anti-Heroes or the An Thai Christ, I use my name as part of the equation.
An = Peace Shalom = Peace
Lately I've been exploring the Abrahamic religion because I want to learn more about the Holy Spirit.
I was wondering if this is a common thing to explore archetype.
I looked in Anansi the Spider because it contained "An" my name and my initial is AT = @
@ looks like O+a which reminds me of the Netflix Series The OA (Original Angel)
The most recent death Akira Toriyama's initial is AT, he is known for Dragon Ball and Dragon Quest. Dragon Ball characters such as Son Goku take after Sun Wu Kong, and Sun Wu Kong is Hanuman.
After watching the show Loki, I believe we are all variants of each other, so there is a say "view all as your mother", since people as variants from one another helps me navigate.
Journey to the West, Sun Wu Kong because a Buddha
I believe I connect with Chenrezig aka Avalokiteshvara the most, after watching ABC: American Born Chinese, I'm a firmly believer that my mother is Guan Yin and I'm learning the path back to Source.
I'm writing because it's the only thing that brings me joy and hopefuly opens to other who would like to share their story.
I personally don't subscribe to Schizotypal Personability Disorder, but I'll borrow the name because I do look at SchizoPoster's Memes.
I learned OM MANI PADME HUM Mantra from a group of Guan Yin' Disciples in California, ever since then my parents have taken on meditation practice and even setup an altar since I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder which I definitely do have since I've felt the highs and lows, writing because I feel low right now and didn't know where else where I would post and discuss besides Reddit.
Anyways I wonder if this has to do anything with the Arisings and Passings or has anyways gone though this Archetypal journey?

I think there’s something off about my campus
Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker

I think there’s something off about my campus
Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker

I think there’s something off about my campus
Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker

An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?

Disclaimer:
This post has heavy spoilers to the story of the version 2.2 and maybe to something else. Good luck to read all of this. I yap for Ena and maybe repeat myself little too much. Mentioned characters:
Sunday
Robin
Aventurine
Dreammaster
Bronya
Seele
Cocolia
Mentioned Aeons:
Ena
Xipe
Hooh
Long
Oroboros
Qlipoth
Mentioned organisations:
Beyond the Sky Choir
Astral Express
Family
In loving memory: Ena the Order “The one who transcends the many”
In loving memory of Tazzyrronth the Propagation “The Sand king”
In loving memory of the Great Tatalov “The Garbage King”
So, the original intent behind this post was to create a lot of puns about Order and Sunday (for example something like Golden Order Radagon Sunday, “I will have order” with Sunday and a falling train instead, Sunday working in a delivery and saying that someone’s order was cancelled).
But then I started remembering all parts of Penacony storyline that have fascinated me. And one particular part master stroked me. When Sunday used his “tell the truth or die in 24 hours voice magic” he used not the power of Order, but Harmony – the Path he supposedly deliberately left behind and betrayed.
How can I be so sure, that he didn’t use the power of Order, making it look like the power of Harmony? Well, nor Dr. Ratio, nor Aventurine, nor Welt, nor (most importantly) Robin didn’t notice any sign that the Order was used and that the power on display did in fact belong to Harmony. And mind you, all of them are quite clever, experienced and hard to deceive. And in Aventurine’s conversation with Acheron in the Horizon of existence, Acheron (who as Self-Annihilator isn’t affected by the illusions of Order and can see through them) referred to the brand, used on Aventurine as the “brand of Harmony”. And the last proof is that when Sunday uses this power, he makes a call (or if you are a pun enjoyer like me, “an order”) to Xipe, referring to THEM as “Triple-faced soul”.
So, this was a really long and a roundabout way to prove that even with his supposed devotion to Order, Sunday still remains the Pathstrider of Harmony (and the laws of the HSR universe dictate, that you become a Pathstrider by following a philosophy of a particular Path). While being a Pathstrider of two Paths is not called impossible in the game, and Harmony and Order mostly overlap, there are some key differences between them. It means, that Sunday to some extant still believes in a philosophy of Harmony and is not a complete devotee of Order, how some people could have believed.
So, the goal of this post is to delve on the philosophy of Ena and Harmony through Sunday’s story, words, thoughts and actions. And to make some obnoxious theories, but that’s later.
So, let’s begin!
Ⅰ
In his childhood, Sunday alongside Robin, was called by the Dreammaster “two best interpreters of the Great One”. That means, that as a child, Sunday was extremely close to the philosophy of Harmony.
Let’s remember what Harmony embodies as a philosophy:
“Then, they say, O you who have reached the end, enter into the paradise that envelops all! Join this great choir and feast, listen to the beating of billions upon billions of hearts, holding you in THEIR embrace...”
“To battle the brutality of the laws of the universe, intelligent lifeforms must discard their cowardly selfishness and the differences between individuals, fusing into one singular melody — to have the strong help the weak, and to protect life with death.”
That is what Harmony preaches and Sunday was a follower of this ideology. Harmony preaches selfless people not only helping and uplifting each other to build “the paradise” (a prominent theme in Sunday’s thoughts) bit also welcoming every other willing person. Harmony philosophy is about acceptance, forgiveness, cooperation, that no person is beyond redemption, that in every person has inside of them the force that genuinely cares for others and strives for good. Harmony preaches something like this: “Because if it is possible for every person to become a member of Family’s shared paradise, then we should at lest try to welcome them in it.” That’s why Harmonic Strings (Emanators of Xipe) are not people and are actually manifestations materialized as the responses to the Hive Mind’s demands. It is a seemingly naïve and romantic ideal for the sometimes and indifferent brutal universe of HSR that requires great kindness, compassion, understanding, belief in other people, ability to see the better in other people and uplift them. And Sunday-follower of Order reflects on that:
"When I appeared as a child, my speech, mindset, and soul reflected immaturity and innocence."
"As I grew into adulthood, I left behind my childlike side."
Sunday (as shown in the quest) was a person of great understanding, compassion, and love for other living beings, full of desire to protect them (bird, Robin, other people). He was able to embrace even the worst people if they would show even the slightest glimpse of desire to redeem themselves and change for the better, like people who allegedly sold their own children. It is notable that he both acts as a follower of Harmony and an enforcer of Order conspiracy because of these very character traits. The motivation is the same, just the choice how to act based on this motivation is different between him and Robin because of different experiences.
As the ardent believer of Harmony, the seed of doubt in his mind was planted ironically by the very followers of the Harmony -the Family. And the disillusionment about Harmony also began, when his belief in other people was tested. When asking Xipe to clear his doubts, Sunday asks three questions:
“Who can judge the strong when their power hides their crimes?”
“Who can vouch for the weak when they will pay any price to survive?”
“If "the strong defending the weak" is truly the foundation of paradise, then who is responsible for the suffering and anguish in this wretched world?”
The questions display that the preached Harmony doesn’t work as intended. The extremely hard ideal to follow was exactly too demanding for numerous people who couldn’t stand up to the responsibility that came with upholding it. Also, as displayed both in the main quest of Penacony and in numerous events and side quests, flaws and imperfections of Family(note: of the Family on Penacony) are numerous. We have an entire “Ode to Fool” in the Grand Theatre about internal bloodthirsty war between the Family, where two of the seven families of Penacony ceased to exist. When even Family: those who preach the Odes of Harmony don’t act as they preach, are not harmonious, don’t show compassion and forgiveness, it is extremely hard to still believe in its teachings. And from that, the belief in people starts to slowly crumble as the very belief in a possibility of a paradise preached by the Xipe, is tested.
That is what turns him to Order. The feeling that while the paradise of Harmony is theoretically possible, how much suffering must people experience before it actually arrives. And when will it arrive? And IF it will arrive? These doubts in human inherent desire to change for the better leads to the idea: “And what if they don’t change? Then why take the risks? Why not to create something that guarantees their safety, happiness and protection?” His desire for Order is still born from his love for humanity.
Ⅱ
And while the shift in beliefs did in fact happen, it wasn’t completed and some beliefs in Harmony remain, alongside doubts about the philosophy of Order.
To prove that, let’s remember the Grand Theatre part of the quest (“Everything that Rises Must Converge”).
Before that Dreammaster has a particularly interesting conversation with Sunday. Sunday not only changes their plan, taking Robin’s place in the plan and then he asks Dreammaster why Penacony was the chosen planet to bring “paradise” of the Order. If he was completely convinced, why would he pose these questions?
Sunday several times brings the part of 107,336 souls of the Oak Family in his monologues. Why? Because he uses them to give self-validation to his beliefs. It comes not only from his desire to grant “paradise” to everyone (and this guys as stated dreamed about the paradise of Order), but also from his self-perceived responsibility as the Head of the Oak Family to stand up to wishes and desires of his subordinates, to protect them, and as the man with greatest position among them, to fulfil the hardest task. Because if people he is in charge of follow and support his views, not only it gives him more belief in his set of beliefs(ha), but also gives him even greater responsibility to prove that their faith in him, in Order is not misplaced.
In first two acts he displays before us shortcomings of the Harmony, trying to display himself as the ardent believer of the Order:
In the first act “Ode to Prisoner” he says that the freedom was not really achieved in Penacony’s great Independence War, posing a doubt that the ideal of Harmony even existed in Penacony since the very beginning.
In the second act “Ode to Fool” the theme of not so harmonic Harmony remains. Sunday talks about internal civil war between the Family, that eradicated two of the seven families on Penacony. How “harmonic” it is!
But in the last and most important act “Ode to Order” has a surprisingly different theme, hidden in it.
It is supposedly talking about the future of Penacony, but there is something more if you listen to its content once again:
General: “Without a ruler who would protect the weak and fight back against the tyrants?”
Chansellor: “We must assist each other in protecting the weak, just as we must assist each other in opposing the tyrannical.”
This dialogue argues that the very measures Sunday preaches, are not required for the coexistence and unification are also an option. Case of how differently Order and Harmony solve one problem.
Jester: “Without a ruler, who will make the stars follow their paths, the tides rise and fall, and allow life to grow?”
C: “These things did as they will long before the ruler appeared, just as they will continue to do with rulers gone.”
Where the Order requires an all-mighty divine king, controlling the world (like God-Emperor of Mankind from Warhammer), Harmony simply says that actually such beings are not needed.
Minister: “However, now that we have bid farewell to our ruler. Who shall take their place?”
C: “We no longer require a ruler, for we were originally all rulers who stand above all things.”
Once again, order preaches about the ruler on the top of everything, the one who has all of the rights and makes all of decisions. But harmony doesn’t work that way. Harmony preaches that if every person has equal rights to enter its paradise, then they are essentially equal. Where Order differentiates people and treats them differently according to THEIR criteria, harmony does not as THEY are all-embracing.
The choice of the position of Chansellor as the one giving answers is deliberate. It is another innuendo on differences between Harmony and Order. In Order king takes the power and pushes everyone under his control. Chancellor, as the representation of Harmony in this argument, is a position not a person. He is subject to change, unlike king. Unlike king, Chancellor is chosen among the people, by the people. He serves as one man being the voice of many people, for they have chosen him as a Chancellor because their ideals are the same and thus, they have entrusted him to fulfil their ideals in reality in their stead.
Some people were not satisfied that the arguments were not posed against Sunday by the Astral Express. Well, this entire act serves as a counter to his arguments, showing the point of view of Harmony arguing against the necessity of ideals of Order. Most importantly, they don’t disprove hid arguments completely, but rather pose a possible alternative take on things.
The Clockwork doesn’t work on puppets because they are “satisfied”. But what gives satisfaction: Order or Harmony? In my opinion, Harmony. Remember: in THEIR paradise there is “peace bestowed, sorrows and strife released.”
The “king” in the text obviously refers to Ena the Order, and the last talk from the “Future” in the act is about “final rites” to the king, that there is no need to seek THEIR existence, nor remember THEM. It illustrates the final confusion of Sunday: if Ena didn’t fight back while being consumed, if the philosophy of Harmony prevailed in the confrontation among the Paths, why try to restore the Order?
And after that particular act he chose to reveal to us the finale of Ena’s story. That THEY were banished to oblivion by the united will of the people who defied Order. And THEIR death was praised alongside praises for the appearance of Harmony – the ideal that prevailed on Penacony in the end.
And that is what actually 3 is actually about. Puppets(Members of the Beyond the Sky Choir) ask what they and everyone else should do after the “king(Ena)” disappeared.
They feel no safety and out of their comfort zone when the one that controlled everything about their lives suddenly disappeared. And Chancellor’s answers are the representation of the ideology of Harmony, that you don’t need to be controlled to strive in life, for that there is more to universe and that the “king” is not actually required for betterment of society, that society can harmonize and evolve on their own, that the unity of people can replace the “king”. Ironically, “the Ode to Order” doesn’t glorify Order but rather disproves it from being the one and only universal truth.
In this act Sunday actually reveals, intended or not, that he doesn’t disprove Harmony’s ideal, that he subconsciously feels that it can stand on par with the ideal of Order.
Then, Sunday poses between us three questions, each one has different answers depending on your set of believes: order or Harmony. Notice, that Sunday doesn’t give his own answers to the questions.
“Is darkness equal to daylight?”
This question is very metaphorical. Radiance and light, eradicating darkness and giving protection to those under the light are a repeated theme in the ideology of the Order (“I shall ascend to the heavens, becoming the scorching sun. Bathed in my light, my people shall flourish, while all evil shall be eradicated” / “Those who live in the shadows do not bear the right to tread the illuminated stage.” / “I now permit you to gaze into the sun [hardest line in the game btw]”) But radiance is also a term sometimes used to describe Xipe. The greatest difference lies in the fact that what Order will not tolerate (“darkness”), harmony will be able to co-exist with and eventually embrace. So for Order they are different, but for Harmony not at all.
“Are sinners equal to the righteous?”
Order punishes the unjust and uplifts the righteous. For it, they are not equal. But for Harmony they are, mostly because before Xipe the very concept of sinners doesn’t exist. Harmony is all-embracing, for everyone can change for the better and be redeemed.
It is a discourse in philosophy: first question was about whether are you able to tolerate something that goes against you. While Harmony can, Order cannot (Sunday can as literally shown in the quest so he leans more to Harmony in that part). Second question was about whether people can change for the better and be redeemed. Order doesn’t believe in it, Harmony does.
“If you are born weak, which god should you turn for solace?”
It is another question to choose between philosophies because Sunday struggles to choose himself. If you are weak and you bow before someone(“king”) for the protection then this is a choice befitting Order, but if you choose to cooperate with others, uplift one another and “listen beating of billions of hearts holding you on their embrace” then this is the choice of Harmony.
Notice, that Sunday doesn’t consider us as enemies at all. As he says: “I genuinely wish to avoid a violent clash with my esteemed guests from afar.” When Astral Express team asks Sunday why did he invite us to the duel, he responds: “Because our shared goals give equal weight to the beliefs we strive for.” He regards everything happening more like a debate of two equally valid philosophies. Even in the fight with him (second one) he still invites us to join his chorus of Order. And he says “our final talk is concluded” only when he turns into his Embryo of Philosophy form, when literally everyone who could has risen against him. And then he reveals his true emotions:
“If your ‘paradise’ can save more people, sever my path with your hands”
He knows he is not infallible, that his plan can be wrong, that there is a possibility of making better choices, better decisions. And he asks us to prove, that Harmony after all is a stronger concept then that of Order. And his quote before that really makes everything extremely ironic:
“If we had never experienced solitude, how could we embark on different paths?”
Once again, this solitude refers to the times when he still completely followed Harmony. Yet he was the only person on the entire Penacony because of his great compassion, who actually followed what Xipe preached. Yet, in this he was alone. How can you be in Harmony with anyone, if you are alone. The irony is in the fact, that if Robin didn’t leave Penacony, of if he met another genuine believer, he wouldn’t have turn to Order and he would remain under Xipe. With many similarities of Order and Harmony: the epitome of Order is loneliness, being a sole ruler of everything, the epitome of Harmony is a unity of numerous people.
“And thus, my talk about Sunday has concluded. Next part is about Ena.”
Ⅲ
While his monologue about history of Ena can also be interpreted as parts above, it is much more interesting to discuss it when talking about Ena THEMSELVES.
“Let us commence with the dawning of the world… After the Dusk Wars, darkness veiled the sky, and chaos consumed the earth. Ena the Order emerged, destined to restore all existence. That marked the first day.”
The Dusk Wars are one of the most ancient (if not the most) periods of history we know about. Ena emerging at that time, makes THEM one of the oldest Aeons alongside Long, Hooh, Qlipoth and Oroboros.
” THEY gathered nebulae and forged them into picks, thus creating a grand lyre with black and white keys. Strike the white keys, and the sun rose. Strike the black keys moon and the rose. And so the cycle of day and night arose. That marked the second day. “
“THEY transmuted streams of stars into inked nibs, creating symbols to be pronounced and counted. THEY molded stardust into flowing rivers, assigning the righteous upstream and the unjust downstream. Thus, all things were marked and the world learned to discern between good and evil. That marked the third and fourth days. “
“THEY used the planetary rings to establish the law, forging a code of conduct among the masses. A grand lyre with black and white symbols of articulation and numerical notation took the form of musical notes. The downward-flowing river became a melody, and the cannon of law dictated the form. Thus, all mortals found their unique place within this symphony. That marked the fifth and sixth days. “
Ena, as we know was a control freak, at much bigger scale and extent, then Sunday could have ever hoped to become. We know that «Ena's harmonic songs seems to align within a three-dimensional framework, akin to an emperor maintaining hierarchical order among all creatures» Not only people, but the movement of celestial bodies were under THEIR control. THEY wanted to and almost controlled everything in the known cosmos. So, THEY were the only person responsible for everything. And when THEY were consumed, the manager of everything disappeared and the scales of order and discord lost their balance. That is why Hooh intervened and took THEIR responsibilities.
“THEY imbued world with meaning, perfecting all things in the heavens and earth. Then, THEY rested from the labors of creation. Yet, all beings cried to Ena – ‘Under the banner of the Order, you have defined all things in the Cosmos… but this made us realize that we are but puppets in your hands!’ – Thus, on that day, all beings united and cast the Aeon into the abyss of oblivion. That marked the seventh day. “
And this is the most interesting part. We know that Ena was consumed by Xipe, so why does Sunday refer to THEIR death as an action, made by humans?
As we know, Xipe “hails from multiple harmonious celestial words”, “a plural Aeon” and “THEY are the amalgamation of thousands of entities”. Thus, I pose that Xipe ascension was not a process of accension of a one person who somehow become an Aeon, but rather that several beings in a moment of unity (of “harmony”) were ascending as one. Next bit is purely theoretical:
But who could provide such unity before the existence of Harmony? Only the Beyond the Sky Choir – followers of Ena could understand the true extent of Ena’s control over everything and unify to create a change. Thus, mortals ascended into Aeon, befitting their shared beliefs, and from the Beyond the Sky Choir, Xipe arose with a new symphony of Harmony.
ⅠⅤ
Also, some other interesting bits from 2.2. storyline:
The most overlooked part of 2.2 quest for me is that part before boss battle when Sunday says that he doesn’t intend to either resurrect Ena or become a new Aeon of Order. While the actual possibility of such actions remains “enigmatic, we can now speculate that it could be possible to take control of a masterless Path or revive its master. I speculate that when we finally reach strongest Emanators level of poweallies/etc. the enemies we will be facing before actual Aeons will be unique beings like that: fallen Aeons in the process of resurrection or people in the process of becoming a new Aeon of a Path without one.
Another interesting bit of lore about Ena is that while she was “consumed” by Xipe, her Path still lingers in the cosmos masterless. While it was known about Paths of other fallen Aeons it is interesting that even assimilation by a broader concept Aeon isn’t enough to completely eradicate the Path from the face of the cosmos.
Some other connections that I noticed about Sunday while rewatching 2.2 quest were surprising even for me. Name a planet where the ruler intentionally left their subordinates in ignorance about the truth about the events for the sole reason of protecting them? It’s Belobog with Bronya and Seele (I could talk about similarities and differences of Bronya and Sunday but that would make already long post even longer). And this is why Ena was able to persuade Qlipoth. Because Qlipoth shares with THEM that general theme of protection. Because their Paths partly overlap. Because Preservation is about keeping everything dangerous behind the walls (in this case dangerous information about Cocolia), and everything inside the walls is safe, protected, or you could say “in Order”.
Ⅴ
P.S. I feel like in this quest there is still so much more to discuss(and I could write EVEN MORE), but this long wall of text is already too out of character from me as a humble follower of Enigmata.

Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker.

Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker.

Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker.

Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker.

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote.
April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker.

Witch Fall / / Rest Now

^vibe
January 8th, 2072.
The Midnight Court - Wewelsburg, Álfheimr
"I had no expectation of being crowned." Princess Kyōko looked towards the crowd of Alfr nobility which had amassed itself in the great hall of the Midnight Court. Excluding the Princess, who stood just in front of the Night King's Throne, the nobility made up of nearly all conquered people remained quiet as the Princess continued to speak - the shock of recent events emanating throughout the room. "And yet death of my uncle...has come as a shock."
The court was somber, the lights dim - only a few skylights pointed towards the Princess whose Golden crown had only just been placed on her head by the same woman who had coronated her Uncle all those years ago. The flags which had once flown as a symbol of the Aesir, now remained furled, awaiting to be revealed as the once Japanese Princess, continued to speak.
"In the years since my Uncle's coronation, our Aesir, has led you all to the well of prosperity, happiness, and security. Under his auspices rule, under the Night King's watchful gaze, you people...you all...have been so very lucky. So very lucky to have survived this long." Gasps from the crowd where audible as members of the Valkyrie of the 1st Sturmtruppen marched into the Great Hall, those members of the Elite Imperial Guard whose loyalty lay only with the Aesir. "Under the former Aesir, you have been...blinded by a shroud of darkness from true enlightenment. The failures of this Imperial Might, whose forces once so easily marched West across France and conquered Western Europe, come from your blind faith in my Uncle. You have been bested in a Gothic War which saw the needless deaths of so many of the Aesir's Chosen. And yet you cry out for more conflict?"
The new Aesir could see the daggers as she looked out at the crowd, as her words struck the very heart of the Alfheim's Imperial Center. From the corner of her eye, she could barely make out one figure leaving the Hall, shooting an icy yet aware glance towards the Throne, however, now was no time to stop, she had a mission here.
"At every step, your former ruler...has ensured that the entire weight of the world would come crashing down on his Empire. Even now, you face a rebellion in Italy, and the possibility of war in the outer colonies of Svartálfar and Mexico. And if not for the idleness of the great Goliath of Eastern Europe your very homeland would have most assuredly been lost by now."
By now, only the Æsir's Chosen had remained without reaction. The nobility long in uproar, confusion, and fear as the former second-rate Princess from Japan gave lecture on the future of the Empire.
"You all...I...have never seen throughout history, an Empire so reviled that even my own Father's machinations have gone unheeded by the world." The newly crowned Aesir cared little for choosing her words, knowing that ultimately, they'd have to all bend the knee either way. "Your world has failed, and I am here to save you."
The murmuring of the crowd would have become overwhelming if it was not for the clerics who raised and slammed the ends of their banners on the ground, unfurling the new flag of the Imperial Álfheimr while sending the crowds into a fervor of chanting.
“Long live Æsir!”
“Long live Æsir!”
“Long live Æsir!”
As the Midnight Sun rose over the old world, those nobility knew a new era had begun.

Mombasa, The Union of African Socialist Republics 

vibe

"The Malagasy Terror returns to South Africa, Mexico falls into the grips of Japanese Empire"

Bandung Daily Issued January 31st, 2072 - 12:00 Mombasa, The Union of African Socialist Republics
MOMBASA - As the world continues to feel the shockwaves from the death of former imperialist dictator Dederick Lohengrin, it has been confirmed that the Malagasy Terror otherwise known as Japanese Rear Admiral Sentaro Omori has been confirmed as the new Imperial Governor of Marley. According to reports from the Japanese Minister of Foreign Affairs Kamisato Ayaka, the handover of South Africa represents the 16th Imperial Administrative Zone of the ever growing Japanese Empire. Likewise, according to reports coming out of the JIIA - Rear Admiral Takagi Daisuke has been named Imperial Governor of Azteca (known globally as Mexico), as the newest and 17th Imperial Colony. The news has forced the resurfacing of existing fears within the UASR, and by extension broader Bandung Pact as to ongoing colonialism by the Japanese Empire which has despite its claim to "isolation", come to control vast swathes of the globe.
The annexation of South Africa, or rather, the repeated annexation of South Africa by Japan showcases the ongoing Imperial ambitions of a Japan which has frequently been known to break the conventions on human rights with its rumors of prison camps and genocide. Now following the death of the former Aesir of Alfheim who himself was a scourge on the continent of Africa, Japan has only further pushed the boundaries of its Imperial borders, using the second born Princess Kyōko as a way of wrestling control over the once antagonistic German Empire. While the hand-over of the Alfr's two most valued colonies was ostensibly done under the pretense of the possibility of outright war from a Bandung Pact led liberation of either South Africa or Mexico, experts across the Globe have come to other theories.
Specifically, experts within the UASR have begun theorizing that the recent withdrawal of the Alfheim from its Imperial ambitions, is largely, due to the possibility of an ongoing internal conflict between various factions within the Alfheimr Empire - namely, it is believed that there are several dissenting factions attempting to wrestle control out of Japanese hands. While outright war seems unlikely, the possibility of conflict cannot be understated as [Kyrr Von Lohengrin](), the Æsir's Chosen, and Danubian Habsburgs have been seen far more frequently in official affairs - while Alfheimr military assets appear to be on the constant move. While it is believed that much of the Aesir's non-Human population has as dictated by central processing units in both Wewelsburg, Berlin, and Paris been accepting of the new Æsir, more complex androids like the Æsir's Chosen and the vast majority of the religiously indoctrinated human population is rumored to be far less tolerant of both the official explanation of the Æsir's death and of the new ruling Æsir. Ultimately, while most experts believe outright conflict to be unlikely, some like those within the INC (GIGAS), have begun to whisper about the possibility of coming conflict.

For the Republic, Part Five: Born is the Fourth

Rare are the times that Kyrr von Lohengrin, former Imperial Vizikong of North Amerika and Minister of Foreign Affairs had found himself in this office. Its white walls, mirroring those of the exterior, was one of the few buildings permitted to be rebuilt in the wake of the Third Republic's destruction. And yet here he was all the same, the slow ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner the only audible noise that could be heard even with his enhanced hearing. Not even the breathing of the man sitting at the restored Resolute Desk was enough to break Kyrr out of his state of shock. It was only when the man and his hulking frame spoke, that Kyrr's attention drifted back to the present.
"I once sat where you are now." President Armstrong who had once betrayed the Third Republic mused as he stared down the nimble looking Alfr. "I offered your King a Kingdom, and look at him now...laying in dirt.
If not for the desperation of Kyrr's current situation, he would have ordered this so-called President's execution for disrespecting the Aesir.
"And for that matter, look at you, you proud Alfr who once strode in here so high and mighty declaring a new world order. You know? Katherine might have been right...hahaha." Armstrong spat out his tobacco as he leaned back in his chair, resting his legs on the desk. "Your worse than us now, at least we never lost our homes."
The disdain in Armstrong's voice was palpable, as his baritone voice echoed throughout the office. Kyrr could barely hide his own contempt, and disgust at what was nothing more than a sub-human caveman lecturing to one of the Aesir's closest confidants.
"And now, as those Jap fucks stretch their god damn Midnight Sun across Europe...you come to me, Papa Armstrong for help." Armstrong's face broke into a wicked smile; violence, rage, and hatred spewing from his eyes. "Well your in luck, kid. Because you've come to a land where the people are free, there is no slate to wipe because I've already burned the fucking thing to the ground."
"Look, I'm not here for a monologue. We both have things we can off-...."
"Shut the fuck up and sit there, quietly. You came here for whatever I can offer, not the other way around." Armstrong's smile only continued to widen as it reached comedically lengths. "And as I said, your in luck, because I can offer you a place in my new America. People will die, and kill, and you can be one of the killers."
Kyrr continued to stare at the American whose smile literally reached from ear to ear.
"So...whaddya think?"

Warsaw, The Commonwealth 

vibe

"Fall Dämmerung and the Álfheimr Civil War"

CNN (Commonwealth) Issued October 16th, 2072 - 12:00 Warsaw, The Commonwealth
PARIS - As the Black Fleet lay smoldering at the bottom of the Atlantic, the Global Interoperable Guarantee for Allied Support has announced the end of the Álfheimr Civil War which had started in the late Spring of 2072. While the ACW had begun largely due to factional disputes on an internal level within Imperial Álfheimr government following the coronation of the new Æsir, too most experts, it didn't officially begin until the secession of what is now informally known as the "Republic of New Álfheimr". The New Republic which exists in an unrecognized status (by Imperial Japan, the INC, and GIGAS at large), is now formally made up of the "Imperial Dominion of Amerika" which was the former Third American Republic before its conquest by the late Greater Aryan Empire (GAE). The secession of America was allegedly brought about by an alliance between certain Dederick Lohengrin loyalists including Kyrr von Lohengrin, alongside Steven Armstrong the titular "Governor" of the American colony. While the Civil War had originally been fought solely between the Imperial Álfheimr under the recently crowned Æsir Kyōko and Kyrr's New Republic, the follow-up secession of Danubia from the Imperial Álfheimr quickly brought new levels of severity - forcing GIGAS's hand and involvement.
The secession of Danubia under the command of Ferdinand Habsburg, as advised by Gloria von Habsburg led to the creation of "The Grand Imperium of Europa", a new so-called Empire claiming to be the true successors of the Greater Aryan Empire. To even greater surprise however, it would appear that the Danubian secession was supported by the O-5 Council and broader Æsir Chosen including "The Advisor, Commander, and Mother" among others. This was a major blow to Æsir Kyōko's legitimacy, and additionally led to a significant loss of human manpower within the Imperial Álfheimr which coupled with the creation of Kyrr's Republic - undoubtedly forced Álfheimr's call for aide.
These events ultimately led to a "forced peace" between the Imperial Álfheimr which is ostensibly still "independent" from the Empire of Japan, the Republic of New Álfheimr, and Grand Imperium of Europa by GIGAS through the destruction of the feuding Black Fleet in the Atlantic operated by the Republic of New Álfheimr. At the same time however, efforts by the Bandung Pact and Eastern Union to capitalize on these events have largely fallen flat - as crises in Israel, Kaabu, and even Eastern Siberia have led to a new level of unprecedented global tension. Nevertheless, while a tacit "white peace" currently exists between the three "Álfheimr successor states", none are certain that such a peace will hold even under GIGAS oversight.

CLAIM REVEAL: THE POST-ALFHEIM STATES (MAP)

The Grand Imperium of Europa

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Ferdinand Habsburg
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
  • Gloria von Habsburg
  • The Æsir's Chosen (those otherwise not listed under the RNA)
• Population: 203,994,000
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • Claimant receives special/secret information at the start of the Campaign

Things to Consider
The Grand Imperium of Europa is unique in its existence as a fortress state among fortress states, nestled in the heart of Central Europe and shielded from the broader "Japanese Alfheim" (Berlin/Paris, etcetera), the Grand Imperium claims not only to be the true successor of the GAE - but has in many ways, the military might to back it up. Having retained much of the human-based military, and significant portions of the non-human army as well, its only lack is in naval capability.
The Grand Imperium like the RNA also has the benefit of having total access to the Alfheim technology base (anything Tion, Eagan, 8th, etcetera posted). At the same time however, while starting at "peace" with the other Alfr successors and neighbors, the Grand Imperium must be careful as overt aggression against Imperial Alfheim may incur Japanese intervention - although, this is not assured by any means. However due to the ACW, it will likely take 1-2 years to rebuild the ability to produce more.
The Grand Imperium of Europa represents a strong, mid-level claim in a precarious yet flexible geopolitical starting position.

The Imperial Protectorate of the Italian Social Republic

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Player Choice
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
  • None - Player freedom available
• Population: 94,964,006
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • Begins under the protection of the NPC "Imperial Alfheimr"

Things to Consider
The Imperial Protectorate of the Italian Social Republic begins in the unique position of being forgotten in large part by its recent conquerors, and having seen rebuilding investment under the deceased Aesir. The claim ostensibly has multiple factions but players must be cautious as the wrong move to quickly might see the gaze of Imperial Alfheimr or possibly the Grand Imperium of Europa (among other claims) turn towards either putting down a rebellion or imperial conquest.
The Imperial Protectorate of the Italian Social Republic has access to all Alfheim technology, and thanks to the rebuilding investment - has the ability to produce all of it.

The Republic of New Álfheimr

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Steven Armstrong
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
  • Kyrr von Lohengrin (Former Foreign Affairs Minister under Dederick)
  • Ingel Faedryk (Former Reichsfuhrer-SS under Dederick)
  • Svipul von Lohengrin (Former Imperial Spymaster under Dederick)
• Population: 143,863,000
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • Has access to large portions of in-production Alfheimr military equipment (refer to Tion's posts) - Continental European in-production units largely destroyed unless in NPC territories.
  • Has a secret alliance with certain NPC claims (informed to the player)

Things to Consider
The Republic of New Álfheimr while a democracy, still considers itself the true successor to Dederick von Lohengrin, and has the geographic, military, and economic position to be immediately independent should its cards be played correctly. They are the strongest military of the three main successors, and similarly have a strong geopolitical starting position, alongside a network of secret diplomatic alliances.
The RNA is in a unique position to quickly assert itself as an independent state, having inherited the same technology base as the Grand Imperium - but in greater existing asset quantities. The RNA also has a large portion of the former GAE's "android" soldiers - making for a lethal and incredibly loyal army right out of the gates.

ALFHEIM CLAIMS MILITARY SPLIT

Questions please send on discord through private messages or comment on this post.

A few years ago, I wanted to expand my sci-fi horizons. I grew up on space opera as well as a few classics like Herbert and Azimov, grabbing books out of my dad's library. After reading The Book of the New Sun by Wolfe, I realized that there was more to the genre, and I wanted to explore it a bit more intentionally.
Not having anyone to personally recommend a reading list, I decided to start working through a list of novels that won both the Nebula and Hugo awards (I know they have less and less prestige as time goes on, but generally I think it was a good place to start.) That's a list of 27 novels (depending on how you count it,) and I've been reading them chronologically for the past 4 or so years.
At this point I'm at 15/27, a little more than halfway. I thought I'd share my extremely brief (mostly 2 sentences) reviews and ratings of the novels as kind of a motivation to keep going. From 6 as decent to 9 as excellent, with 10 being reserved for novels that I continue to think about months/years after reading. I have very much enjoyed ALL of them so far - even the lowest rated ones I felt were worth reading.
Dune - 10/10 Excellent political/religious intrigue with prescience thrown in. Definitely biased from nostalgia.
Flowers for Algernon - 9/10 Character piece on changing who you are, while knowing it's temporary. Very emotional and cleverly written.
The Left Hand of Darkness - 8/10 Interesting look at a society with different gender norms and biology, and the characters are well explored.
Ringworld - 7/10 Fun book about a Dyson ring, protagonist is very charismatic, but the story is ultimately not very impactful.
The Gods Themselves - 9/10 Fascinating look at inter-dimensional technology and the short sightedness of human greed. The non-humans are definitely alien, they're not written as “humans but with green skin.”
Rendezvous With Rama - 6/10 Interesting concept of an abandoned alien starship, with flat characters. I liked the survival aspects and the solutions to challenges, but the characters were so very boring.
The Dispossessed - 10/10 A look at the differences between socialism and capitalism, that somehow turns into a political intrigue by the end. Loved the protagonist and his inner monologue.
The Forever War - 8/10 Follows a soldier and the consequences of time dilation, showing multiple stages of human evolution. Grand in scope and fascinating.
Gateway - 10/10 An unreliable narrator in a sci fi gold rush. Protagonist is fascinating, if despicable, and I liked peeling away his deceptions layer by layer.
Dreamsnake - 9/10 A healer who uses snakes and venom as medicine in a post-apocalyptic world. I liked the narrow focus on the characters, as well as inverting some gendered tropes.
The Fountains of Paradise - 8/10 After Rama, I thought I just didn't like Clarke. This story about the construction of a space elevator does a much better job of exploring the protagonist as a character, and the details of the construction were very engaging.
Startide Rising - 8/10 Refugee dolphins in space hiding on a planet from zealots. The characters were interesting, and I liked the split between scientific exploration and political intrigue. Lots of world building.
Necromancer - 9/10 Cyber punk story about a washed up hacker going on one last job. Protagonist was unlikable but fleshed out (that's a positive), the story of the heist had lots of twists and turns, and a bunch of interesting side characters.
Ender’s Game - 10/10 I'm biased from nostalgia, but I love this story about child soldiers being tricked into xenocide. Ender is kind of a Mary Sue, but he's explored to such a depth that he still feels human
Speaker for the Dead - 10/10 Very different from Ender’s Game, an extremely character-driven story about first-contact and structural discrimination in a society that pretends it's enlightened.
Doomsday Book - 9/10 An emotionally hard-hitting book about a flu epidemic and the Black Plague. The dual protagonists were engaging (although the Middle Ages side was much more engaging than modern day.) Was emotionally difficult to read in a post-covid context, I was surprised to learn this was written in the early 90s.

A Comprehensive Discussion on Combat in Avatar Legends

Hey there, local guy here.
I've been fascinated with Avatar Legend's Combat Exchange System since the system got first introduced. The intricate rock-paper-scissors chaos that arises when a bunch of characters unleash their favorite moves on each other is amazing. Even better, it creates a narrative of combat unlike any other system I've GMed for in the past. I've read many discussions on this system and thought that I would speak my piece on this system and talk about how I run it in my games.
P.S: this is my first long form post, so don't go too hard on me

Introductions

Firstly, however, I want to give you a bit of background. I formerly ran Dungeon Crawler Classics for over ten years before migrating to this system. I think this is important to bring up because I've noticed that many of Avatar Legend's players can be broadly sorted into those who have migrated from rules heavy systems like D&D and DCC, and players who migrated from rules light systems like PBTA. Both sides seem to have different perspectives on the Combat Exchange System. As someone coming from the former category, I'll admit that I do enjoy the tactical elements introduced by Avatar Legend's combat. Although this is a PBTA system, The Combat Exchange system goes above and beyond what most rules lite systems provide. Regardless of your opinions, accept that I have a little bias towards mechanics and rules, but am trying my best to create a balance between tactical and narrative perspective when presenting combat.

The Flow of Combat

With introductions out of the way, lets get into the fun stuff! I'm going to list of some of the broad considerations I made whenever I've gone into Combat Exchanges.
Length
Each combat exchange is one unit of narrative fiction. it goes beyond simply doing damage and paying costs, and victory is not necessarily assured after just one exchange. I've always thought of combat exchanges as very similarly planned out to fight sequences in action moves or TV. The combatants will rush in and trade blows, dodging and blocking before splitting apart for just enough time to catch their breath again. Only very rarely are those action movie fight scenes over in just one exchange of blows, and the same is true for any important battle in Avatar Legends. However, on the flipside, if the number of combat exchanges are hitting double digits, you might start tiring out the players.
Here are some things I do when trying to make a battle longer so that I can increase the tension of the fight:

• Give NPCs defensive techniques such as:
  • Universal: Stand Strong, Take Cover, Doubling Down, Monologue
  • Group: Coordination, Shield Wall
  • Waterbending: Refresh, Ice Snare
  • Firebending: Flame Shield, Recoiling Jet, Fan the Flames
  • Earthbending: Earth Armor\, Rapid Tunneling, Earth Launch*
    • Earth Armor is an incredibly powerful technique...
  • Airbending: Air Swipe, Twisting Wind, Stunning Stance
  • Weapons: Parry, Disarm, Twin Weapon Sweep, Take the High Ground
  • Technology: Collect Materials, Flash Crystals, Hazardous Field
• Add minions such as:
  • Minor NPCs that can serve as bodyguards with their own suit of synergistic techniques
  • A group NPC that will require multiple party members to deal with
• Introduce special circumstances such as:
  • Empowered. Certain powerful NPCs are Empowered by default.
  • Hazards such as snow storms, erupting volcanos, or even a berserk sea serpent.
• Trigger custom moves that narrate an especially import aspect of the battle
  • Have the players roll some dice as their opponent ups the stakes in a terrifying way
  • Let the players choose between disastrous results when the enemy pulls out their ace

here are some things I do when trying to make a battle shorter so that I can keep things fast and cool:

• Give NPCs expensive techniques that cost lots of fatigue to use such as:
  • Universal: Overwhelm\*
    • Overwhelm refers to Hammer Playbook technique, not the Group technique
  • Group: Swarm, Protect Objective, Test Defenses
  • Waterbending: Crushing Grip of the Seas, Surf the Wave, Spike Drill Dive
  • Firebending: Fire Stream, Flame Knives, Wall of Fiery Breath, Fire Bomb
  • Earthbending: Rivers of Metal, Rock Cuff Barrage
  • Airbending: Directed Funnel, Small Vortex, Breathless Gale
  • Weapons: Dire Strike, Hurl Weapon, Boom!
  • Technology: Blinded by Science, Better Faster Stronger, Brawling Blast
• Mark as much fatigue on NPCs during combat exchanges
  • Always mark 1-fatigue when Impaired
  • Always mark 1-fatigue when using Strike
  • Don't spam Evade & Observe
  • Up their balance so they mark more fatigue on techniques they use
• Flee as soon as the fight is looking bad:
  • Have NPC's Seize A Position away from combat
  • Stun or Trap the PCs and use the opportunity to flee
  • Introduce some new narrative element that allows the enemies to escape

One last thing to mention on how many combat exchanges to run is that the game gives the PCs many techniques that rely on their being additional combat exchanges after the one they're used in (Quicksand, Ice Claws, Smooth Stride, Chart a Course, Collect Gears, Suck it Up, Flame Charge to name a couple), so its important to run enough exchanges so the PCs can make their techniques work.
Statuses
The different statuses in Avatar Legends range from the mildly annoying to the life threatening. I've found that its actually quite difficult to balance the effects of each status

• Impaired is the easiest negative status to inflict and it can be done with nearly no fictional justification. Sometimes Impaired will only last until the end of the next exchange (if you just throw some sand into an opponents eyes or angle your shield to reflect the sun in just the right way) but sometimes it can last longer (as with the technique Breath of Ice) or until the afflicted takes a certain action.
• Trapped is most likely the most dangerous negative status to apply. In order to free themselves, they'll need fictional justification (good luck to that bow users trapped in ice) and then they'll have to mark a combination of three conditions or fatigue to actually get out. Many of the more powerful antagonists your PCs will encounter will have the means to break themselves free of any trap, but this status should not inflicted lightly.
• Stunned is misunderstood in my opinion. A lot of tables might assume that Stunned simply makes the afflicted character miss out on the next exchange. However, GMs can resolve Stunned outside of the exchange system, by having other characters be able to act freely against the afflicted character until the clear it. Sometimes, this means the afflicted character will be taken out when another character takes advantage of the opportunity to land a finishing blow but sometimes the afflicted character will regain their senses fast enough. Sometimes there is uncertainty in how quickly a character can take advantage of a Stunned character's lapsing moment and they'll trigger a move. Some techniques can stun foes foe multiple exchanges (Squall Style Strike), during which that afflicted character is at the complete mercy of the technique's user. In these situations, there is no uncertainty at all. Regardless of the stun, try and resolve it without making a PC skip a whole exchange since it sucks for them to sit around while everyone is engaging with the system.
• Doomed can be kind of a joke to be honest. Marking 1-fatigue at the start of each exchange only matters if you're running lots of exchanges. However, its important to narrate how a character is Doomed. If they're on fire, their skin and clothes are going to be singed and ruined. There are other consequences to being Doomed other than fatigue. However, for the purposes of the Combat Exchange System, Doomed works best when used in longer battles
• Prepared is one of the easier positive statuses to acquire. In addition to spending it to negate an inflicted condition or to give +1 to a roll, it is sometimes used as a cost for techniques. Additionally, GMs can ask PCs to spend Prepared when taking on particularly dangerous moves ("Spend Prepared and you can Rely on Your Skills and Training instead of just Pushing Your Luck") or to negate dangerous fictional consequences.
• Inspired is the easiest status to give because the basic technique: BolsteHinder can pretty easily give it out. I always make sure to ask my players what they say/do whenever getting or giving Inspired but that's just because I like getting everyone into the battle more.
• Favored is a situation status that depends on where opponents and allies are. It is possible to be Favored against some opponents and not Favored against others, especially when combatants are taking advantage of high ground. When on High Ground, you would be expected to Favored when acting against opponents on low ground.
• Empowered is the supposed best status. This is mostly true, assuming that the combat is expected to go on for a couple more exchanges. Getting Empowered is pretty difficult, with only a handful of techniques, features, and moves allowing characters to gain the status. The easiest way to become Empowered is actually through special circumstances. Firebenders are empowered beneath Sozin's Comet, Waterbenders would be empowered on the moon (Space themed Avatar anyone?), Earthbenders might be Empowered deep beneath the earth, so on so forth. The important thing to realize about Empowered is that is specifically empowers players to keep going into new Combat Exchanges. When planning a PC to be Empowered, make sure to give them the fight of their lives.

Action Economy
The number of techniques NPCs use is determined by their balance rating at the start of their chosen approach's resolution, meaning that the difficulty of a Combat Exchange can be determined by the balance rating on combatants just as easily as the number of combatants. Depending on the style the GM employs when running Combat, they'll want to take advantage of NPC Balance to either increase the difficulty of the Combat Exchange or to modulate the action economy to keep things interesting. On the flipside, if an NPC has too high of a balance rating, they are susceptible to having their balance testing and ultimately Losing their Balance.
Here are some strategies I employ when modulating Action Economy:

• Have NPCs use the basic technique: Commit when they lose a comrade (if they haven't just elected to flee). this will even out the Action Economy and keep the combat interesting. It'll also accelerate the end of the battle since an NPC using more techniques each Combat Exchange will ultimately mark more fatigue.
• Have NPCs use the basic technique BolsteHinder to Inspire each other by yelling out helpful advice. Inspired will allow NPCs to shift their balance away from their center if the need to use additional techniques or towards their center if the PCs are trying to push them off their edge.

Here are some strategies I employ when increasing the difficulty of a Combat Exchange

• Keep NPC's principal's hidden until combat. Unless the party goes out of their way to uncover an NPC's principal before they fight them, they'll have to use Test Balance to uncover their principal before being able to shift it if they're aiming to have that NPC lose their balance.
• Start an NPC at a higher balance rating. Not all NPCs need to start at 0 when a combat exchange begins. Start them using 2 or 3 techniques off the get go to make things intense.

The Lull in Combat
When a combat exchange ends, the combatants break apart momentarily and the characters have a chance to act. Sometimes, NPCs will take the initiative here, taunting their opponents and calling on their principles. A player may survive an exchange to suddenly be confronted with a harsh reality and have to Resist Shifting Their Balance. Sometimes, the players may take the imitative themselves by leveling the playing field in some way. All kinds of moves, features, and factional spice can occur between exchanges. It's actually really important to have a lull in the action before deciding to go into another exchange because every exchange should represent a different phase of the battle either narratively, situationally, or even emotionally.
When that moment of respite passes and the table is certain of another combat exchange, its time to reselect engagements. Sometimes players will trade who they're engaged with or perhaps the NPCs will introduce new combatants. This changes up things in a mechanical way and allows the PCs to decide their better matchups when dealing with lots of enemies at once.
The most important thing to set up in between exchanges is how the next exchange will be different from the first one. I always keep some escalations in my back pocket to keep combat interesting, and if I don't have anything, that's a good sign that its time to wrap things up.
Range
Although the core rulebook does not specify range for anything, there is still a concept of range. Range is broken down into three broad categories by techniques:

• "Engaged" means that you have to be engaged with a foe to use that technique or move on that foe. When you're engaged with a foe, that means that you are in reach of their techniques just as they are in reach of yours. An example of a technique that uses this range is Test Balance
• "In Reach" means that your foe has be within the fictional reach of that technique or move. This depends on what technique you are using, but does not specify that you need to be engaged with that foe to use that technique or move against them. An example of a technique that uses this range is Strike
• "Not Engaged With" means that your foe cannot be engaged with you for you to be able to use this technique or move. This means you have to be specifically outside of the reach of their techniques. An example of a technique that uses this range is Charge.

Some techniques have specific ranges that go beyond these categorizations (such as techniques that target an area or position instead of a foe or foes). Range is most important when players select who they want to engage at the start of an engagement. An archer may choose to engage no one since their target is within reach of their bow (allowing them to Strike them) and an airbender may specifically not engage a certain foe so that they Cannonball them during the exchange.
Another implication of range is the idea of disengagement. Since engagement can change after engagements have been initially decided, characters can also disengage foes to prevent them from targeting them with techniques. Seize a Position is the easiest way to quickly run into cover and disengage a foe. Sometimes an Advance & Attacking foe may find that theirs no one around for them to hit by the time their approach is being resolved. Although this doesn't stop them from Smashing something important in the environment or Striking at a foe in a different engagement who didn't run into cover.
The BBEG
Its pretty obvious that Avatar Legend's Combat System is not meant for 4v1 encounters. I've already read half a hundred posts by now on how it doesn't work and I've even tried myself. So, how do you make it work then?

1. Add minions and bodyguards. If your BBEG (Big Bad Evil Guy) is at least somewhat sane, he'll probably level the playing field by fighting with some minions. I'll admit that this option is a little less cool than just fighting the guy himself and I wouldn't want to be the player relegated to "Take Out Minion Duty". However, its the best By the Book solution in my opinion.
2. Special Circumstances is a broad term that Avatar Legends introduces to justify why Azula is always Empowered. By using Special Circumstances, Custom Moves, and Powerful Techniques, it is feasible to make a 4v1 work. However, keep in mind that you will have to be able to explain why this legendary badass is able to take on around 4 trained combatants and survive. These kind of combatants would be the pinnacle of their training and the party does not want to get on the bad side of them.
3. Don't use The Combat Exchange System. I know I know! That's a very controversial take coming from the guy who just sang the praises of the system, but sometimes its better to illustrate the power of your antagonist by not even letting the party properly fight him yet. Wait until the party has weakened the BBEG before introducing a standard Legendary NPC stat block, which the party will most likely eat through like breakfast.

Final Thoughts
Everything I've written about here describes The Combat Exchange system under a pretty tactical light, but I don't think that makes it mutually exclusive with how PBTA games play. I've come to love the system because of how it brings mechanics into the fiction in such an interesting way when done well. One of the reasons I decided to try my hand at doing a post was because I'm hoping that more people will realize the depth this system has and will become interested. Its different than what rules lite fans may want and its different from what rules heavy fans may want, but its the balance between those two schools of thought that make it one of the best systems I've worked with for awhile.

Centuries from now, in the year 2364 CE, 57 years after the Choice of Empire—The elected Emperor of the Solar System and his family are massacred by the Sargons, a rival family who seized the throne and created chaos across the Empire. Caleb, the youngest son of the slain Emperor, was saved by the Altas, who were once friends of his family until they mysteriously exiled themselves from the imperium many years ago and remained hidden in an unknown location ever since.
Caleb is now in that faraway place, beyond the reach of the Sargons, where he will live in refuge and prepare for the day when he can have vengeance, justice, and redemption—and possibly salvation.
Burrowed deep within an asteroid in the Belt of the Solar System is a secret community of scientists, artists, thinkers, and engineers led by the Altas. A large hole is tunneled through the face of the asteroid, the entrance to the hidden world within. It was made to look like a human eye.
Its name is the Iris.
[Interlude]
Caleb woke from a deep sleep. The salt of his tears had dried on his face and sweat covered his body. He looked around the room and saw a man who was like an uncle to him asleep on a chair next to his bed: Han Moret, the leader of the Altas.
Caleb thought that Han Moret looked younger and radiant. His hair, once thin, was now full. His body, once frail, was now strong. His skin, once wrinkled, was now smooth and shining.
Caleb got up from the bed and put a hand on Han Moret’s shoulder.
“Han,” he whispered.
Han Moret woke with a start, “Christ!” then smiled when he saw Caleb, “Oh, hello my dear boy.”
Caleb was quiet for a while. “Why couldn’t you save them?”
Han Moret sighed and looked to the ground, “We didn’t have time. We learned of the Sargons’ plans too late. You were in your bedroom and everyone else was in the throne room. Saving you was the only way, all we could do. The best we could do.” He raised his head, “I’m sorry Caleb. I’ll never forgive myself for not being there, for not being able to do more. But you’re here now. We’ll help you. We’ll fight back and win. I can promise you that. I can give you that.”
“How?”
Han Moret grinned, “Come. Let me show you what we’ve been working on all these years. Why I left all those years ago.” He walked to the door and opened it, “Welcome to the Iris.”
Within the asteroid was a colossal garden paradise: waving golden fields and rolling green hills, thick forests and snow-capped mountains, gleaming towers and sprawling villas, vast lakes and flowing streams, smaller suns and lesser moons orbiting each other in the center—worlds within a world.
They walked through a field and stopped beneath a large oak tree.
“Han, this is incredible. How did you do it?” Caleb asked.
“Trillions of builders. Quattuordecillion, actually.” Han Moret raised his hand and an apple fell into it. He took a bite, “Probably more.”
“But there’s only…How many people are here?”
“A couple hundred. 964, I think. No, Arina was born this morning, 965.” He furrowed his brow, “Why do you ask?”
“Trillions of builders, hundreds here?”
“Oh! Right, yes. I see. Come, come. You’ll see too.”
While they were walking, Caleb learned that Han Moret was still fond of long and rambling monologues:
“Isn’t it obvious? Look around us. Well, beyond the asteroid. We seem to be alone in the Universe, but the probability that other life exists says otherwise. So what’s the explanation? It’s simple. We are the first intelligent life in the Universe. It makes sense when you think about it. Our homeworld, the planet Earth, was among the first habitable planets that formed in the Universe after it began, earlier than around 90% of the other habitable planets which now exist! And most of the habitable planets that will ever be formed in the Universe haven’t even formed yet. So, the planet Earth was one of the first habitable planets in the Universe that could support the rise of life and its long evolutionary development into intelligent life, to beings like us. Therefore, assuming that life out there will fundamentally be the same as it is here, and assuming that it only arises in an Earth-like environment, it shouldn’t be surprising that humans developed before others. You see, someone has to be first. There must be a first form of intelligent life in the Universe, before the rest. But it seems like no one has considered that maybe we’re alone in the Universe right now because we are the first and others will come after us, and maybe the others are already in the process of doing so, so we won’t be alone for long. And when those future life-forms ask the same questions as us, “Is anyone out there? Are we alone in the Universe?” we will be there to answer them, to be their aliens, to give them the comfort we never had and accelerate their development like we never could. And this is all the better too, because we’re going to need all the help we can get to do the ultimate thing, since the only reason we exist is to…”
“Han, thank you, that was…enlightening. But what does it have to do with what you were going to show me?”
“What? Oh, nothing. Sorry. What were we talking about? Ah yes, how we built the Iris. Fear not, the answer lies ahead.”
They walked further through the field towards a clearing. And there, out in the open, was a scientific laboratory and engineering workshop, tables and equipment and all with nothing but the sky above and a beautiful world surrounding them.
Han Moret led Caleb to an empty table, “So, here is it boyo. What do you see?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“Ha! Yes, but in nothing there is everything. For from nothing…” Han Moret glanced at the table and appeared to concentrate, then the table grew into a tree “…something.”
Han Moret tapped a finger to his head, “Mind-controlled nano-bots. That’s how we built this place. A one-to-one control of atoms within our local environment, limited to the area in which nano-bots are dispersed and the reach of electromagnetic signals emitted from implants in the brain, also limited by the mental symbiosis between a group of people if they’re working together, and of course the extent of their imagination. Everything within the Iris is touched by the stuff, so everything is under our control.”
“That’s…How did you do it?”
“Trade secret I’m afraid. But here, we call it…” Han Moret slapped the side of Caleb’s head, “…Pleroma.”
“Ow!”
“There! Brain implanted. You are now pleromatized. You can control the world around you, or at least the little bit within your proximate sphere. No worries, the plerons are easily inserted and removed, so no harm, no foul. Go on and try it. Synchronization is instantaneous, but learning how to use it is, well, a process. Your ability to control the world is determined by the strength of your mind—your concentration and focus. It depends on the speed and coherence of your imagination, the complexity and detail of your mental constructions, along with the depth of your knowledge and your intelligence, clarity of thinking, force of will, and, most importantly, very most importantly, the strength of your Self. Meditation helps, as does improving your brain with the stuff once you get the hang of it, but none of that will matter if you are not strong within. Oh, and you can change your body too.”
“Ah, so that’s why you look younger and glowing.”
“Indeed, and thank you. I’ve never felt better, haven’t been sick in years. We certainly look…godly, don’t you think? Although the secondary effects of being able to control our brains and bodies have been far more numerous than we anticipated, mostly socially, very odd and interesting things, but that’s a conversation and exhibition for later. If I may continue, with the Pleroma, the strength of your mind determines your power over the world, so if your mind is stronger than others, then you can overpower them. For example…”
Caleb’s body rose from the ground and hovered for a moment, then returned.
“See?” Han Moret said. “I could feel your instinctive surprise and mental resistance, but alas, I’ve had this stuff longer than you, and my mind is, for the time being at least, stronger than yours, so your resistance was, as they say, futile. The plerons that made their way into your body when you entered the Iris obeyed my commands and not yours, and your body obeyed my mind and not your own. Now, your turn. Try and turn the tree into something.”
Caleb looked at the tree and tried to concentrate. He vaguely imagined things, but was unsure of what to create and how. The tree became a gray mass, then began to violently vibrate and rapidly shapeshift. Colors flashed and textures flickered. Various sounds blasted all at once. It seemed like reality was having a seizure. And then the asteroid began to rumble…
“Woah! Alright, alright! Not bad for your first try. Certainly better than others. You have a powerful mind, no doubt, but not yet a disciplined one.”
Han Moret waved his hand and smoothed the chaotic patch of existence back to an empty table. “We’ll try it again soon. Mastering the Pleroma will require a lot of practice and self-improvement. I can improve your brain of course, if you’d like, it’ll help speed up the process and enhance your basic abilities, but even with a better brain, you’ll still fail to use the Pleroma if you don’t improve your consciousness, your mind—your Self. You must become stronger, Caleb—not physically, but mentally—if you want to master this power over the world. You could have a perfect brain, but if you don’t perfect your Self, then the Pleroma will be useless, as we just saw. You’ll only create chaos in the world and others will be able to control you.”
“Yeah, alright, I understand. But Han! That was amazing. I’ve never felt…I’ve never felt like that before.”
“Yes, but it is so much more than that, Caleb, so much more. You’ve only seen the least of it, the smallest bit. You see, this is why we had to leave the Empire. Weren’t you listening before? I was onto something. We’re going to need all the help we can get, including from other forms of life, if we are going to do the ultimate thing, since the only reason we exist is to prevent the end of the Universe.
For centuries, we’ve known that, given the Second Law of Thermodynamics, the Universe will end in the future, or at least its habitability for life—for us! We know this, and so we have a responsibility to do something about it, to stop it from happening so that life can keep living. ‘We’ are the Universe—just a local collection of its atoms, yes, but an equal part of its whole nevertheless—and we have within us both the genetic urge to survive and a personal desire to not die, so we can say that the Universe itself does not want us to die, or rather it does not want to die itself. Don’t you see? The purpose of our lives, the purpose of the Universe, is embedded within the structure of our existence. But how do we prevent the end of the Universe exactly? We don’t know the answer to that yet, specifically. That’ll take time. But we do know the basics of the answer, and it is very simple: we must control the Universe to prevent its end, and to do that, we must become God.
If humankind is to live forever, and more importantly ensure that there is a world in which we can live forever, then we must gain the knowledge and power to control the Universe so that we can prevent its end. In other words, we must become all-knowing and all-powerful, or at least gain sufficient knowledge and power to ensure that we can have an endless life in infinite eternity, through whatever ways we can. But whichever way ultimately works, we’ll need to create an eternal home for life, and that’s Godhood boyo. That’s the ultimate thing, and the Pleroma is a first step towards that: controlling the world around us with our minds, instantaneous creation by command. It’s a growing up for us. We began as children, born from the God of the Great Unknown at the Beginning, and we must grow up to become God to prevent the Great Known at the End. That’s the only thing when you think about it, our only purpose and the measure of our being, the direction of our progress and the future we’re heading towards: Godhood. If we don’t, then we will have accepted the end of the Universe and the eventual death of humankind, and everything before that will become pointless, the value and meaning of our lives will become forfeit. If we choose to do nothing or say that it’s impossible without trying, then we condemn the generations of the future to ultimate destruction, and in the long stretch of time, we will have annihilated the basic and universal value of human life, and therefore annihilate our own value too. Even if the end of the Universe will happen billions of years from now, or much sooner from some natural or cosmic catastrophe, that’s just a number that seems big to us, so the number doesn’t matter, it could billions of years from now or tomorrow—or today. On the scale of the Universe, what’s the difference between a billion and one, tomorrow and today? If humankind will become extinct in the future, no matter how many years from now, then there will be no point to all of this.
No, we must save ourselves by preventing the end of the Universe and become God to achieve that salvation. What comes after that? I don’t know. But for now, I know that we must spend our days working to achieve Godhood. That’s why we’re here and nothing else matters, except of course to make life worth saving, by making it worth living, by spreading love and creating art and asking questions and filling the darkness around us with light and the color of our lives, to expand outwards until we reach the end and then go beyond it—always onward, always creating, always living. You see, the end gives us our beginning. We begin at the end. God created and God will save, because we will become God to save ourselves. I call it the Anthroteloeschacosmological Principle, the purpose of humankind arising from the end of the Universe. I tell myself a little poem every morning: “The Universe will end / and I will die / if today I do nothing / to save starlight and humankind.” I wrote all this in an anonymous essay a few years back, The Salvation of the Universe…”
“That was you?”
“Yes, and it made quite a stir across the imperium as I understand it, but nary an effect. Typical. Anyways, we must prevent the end of the Universe—by whatever means, at all costs, and within moral bounds. The Sargons knew this and accepted the first two, but they rejected the last. I grew up with them. We discussed it often, along with your father. The Sargons think morality is an obstacle, a human thing that will prevent us from becoming God. They think Godhood is only about being all-knowing and all-powerful, but we Altas think differently. We think morality is essential to Godhood, because being all-knowing and all-powerful will be pointless if we are not also all-good, or at least as good as we can be when we try. Without morality, that wonderfully human thing—determining what is good and evil and then making it so—there’d be no point in becoming God, because there’d be nothing worth saving in the end. We’d just be a heap of atoms that figured out how to perpetuate themselves, like all of the other forms of life in the Universe, except on a bigger scale. But we are not like the other forms of life. No, we are different, and that’s what makes us so special and important. What’s the point of living if not for something, and why are we unique if not because of our morality allows us to say, “This is good and this is bad,” and then use that power to shape the world around us according to our imagination and will, enhanced by our knowledge and technology?
So you see Caleb, this is why we had to leave the Empire. We all know that the Universe will end in the future, but it seemed to us Altas like were the only ones who understood the significance of that fact, what it means for us and our purpose in life, the responsibilities that it gives us. We saw that the plan for existence is embedded in the structure of the Universe, our destiny and fate written across the stars, but when we looked around, we saw that everyone was living their days as if it wasn’t so, ignoring our ultimate purpose and wasting their time on lesser things. We had to leave, you see, to be away from the limitations and distractions of Empire, so we could do the work to achieve Godhood, to take the first step in leaving our childhood to create the Pleroma.
Your father disagreed with all this. He thought Godhood was a silly idea based on old religious notions. And that’s what makes what happened all the worse. You see, the Altas and the Sargons agreed with each other. We were unified against your father in our belief that we must achieve Godhood and that the stagnation of the Empire was preventing us from doing so, and your father was leading that stagnation, so we both felt compelled to take action. The difference between us, however, the vital difference, is that we Altas believe in morality, so we left the Empire to work in peaceful isolation, and the Sargons do not, so they murdered your family to seize power.”
And with that, Han Moret was finished.
Caleb was silent for a while. “But, I don’t understand. If you had this the entire time, why couldn’t you save my family when the Sargons attacked? Why couldn’t you use it to protect them? You could’ve prevented all of this. Why didn’t you share it with us?”
“Because the Pleroma is still in development, Caleb. It still has its imperfections and unknowns. We’ve only worked within the asteroid so far, and only with a small group of people who already had deep bonds and a shared way of thinking and years of training together as the power of the Pleroma slowly progressed, so our learning was limited by the pace of its development. And this was good, since the Pleroma would be apocalyptic in the wrong hands. This asteroid, these people, are minuscule compared to the scale of the Empire, to the true extent of what the Pleroma could reach and do. So, with all of its unknowns, we couldn’t risk deploying it beyond the Iris, and we couldn’t risk revealing ourselves by going beyond it and using it or building transmission relays across the Solar System so we could take long-distance action from here. We had precious little time after learning of the Sargon’s betrayal. And once we were there, in the fog of war, for all we know we could’ve killed your family if we had tried to intervene. Not everyone here has mastered the Pleroma yet, especially to use it in such a complex and rapidly changing atomic environment like war, with life and death in the balance, with its intense mental pressures and emotional reactions and all that would test the mental strength of even the best of us, even me. So, even if I had brought the best of us when it happened, we couldn’t risk trying it for the first time in such a situation, especially with such a close proximity between friends and foes. But we’re improving it and eliminating its imperfections, we’re learning, and it’s nearly ready to be used beyond this little home of ours.”
Now Han Moret was silent for a while. He looked around the Iris.
“I… You see Caleb…” He tried to gather his thoughts, but was conflicted between defending himself against Caleb’s criticisms and trying to proceed with his planned lecture. “With the Pleroma, we can control the Universe, both around us and within us. Everything, everywhere, all the time. And time itself too! Though that’s still in the experimental stages. One fellow tried to slow time by condensing his local spacetime and then went poof and, well, we don’t quite know where he is at the moment, but we’ll find him…hopefully. But with this stuff, we can speak and it shall be. We can create by command and move worlds with a wave of our hand. Dear, I’m getting poetic, but isn’t it so? This is what we’ve been working on all these years. And once we created it, we knew that the people of the Empire weren’t ready for it, so we remained in hiding. Most people beyond the Iris aren’t mentally and spiritually strong enough to have this power without creating chaos, destruction, and death across the Solar System, especially with the Sargons around. But now, with the Sargons in power, with chaos across the imperium, with you here, we think that perhaps it’s time. You have a powerful story Caleb, and you were born into a unique position to sway the hearts and minds of the people to shape the course of Empire and help them. And as your old tutor, well, I have faith in you, especially now that you’ve seen the Pleroma and understand what it can do and what’s at stake. I believe you can do what we could not and prepare the way towards a better future.
What are those quotes from the books I used to read you? ‘A people shall come, and when they say, “Be…” It shall be,’ and ‘Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, so that a flood of waters may cover you? Can you send forth lightning, so it may go and declare, ‘Here we are?” That is this. We are it. Speak your voice, Caleb. Manifest your spirit. Create by command. With this, you can do anything, everything…” he amplified his voice to make it was deep and booming, “…ALL.”
And with the last word, hundreds of people suddenly appeared around Caleb.
A few hours passed and it was night. The suns above had dimmed, sharing their fading light with rising moonlight, creating a new and beautiful natural phenomenon that Caleb had never seen before, what the people of the Iris called a Sunrisset.
They were all in the field, groups of them sitting around bonfires. The ceiling of the asteroid was made transparent so they could see the stars around them. They were celebrating the arrival of Caleb and the simple fact that another day had passed of which they had come to know. Some of the fires were multi-colored, shifting with the mood and intentions of the people around them. Around one of them was a woman singing an ancient song. The flames danced and rose and changed colors to match her pitch and rhythm and tune—and when she finished with a climax, the flames burst into the sky, adding sparks to the stars. Throughout the night, there were fireworks from all directions and mini-supernovae exploding in the sky. Auroras waved above and among and between them. Such was life in paradise.
As conversation mixed with music and song, there was, most of all, a feast. It was the best food and drink that Caleb had ever tasted.
Han Moret gave another lecture, “Food is just chemistry, a unique combination of atoms that interacts with our taste buds to cause a specific reaction in the brain: pleasure. And with the Pleroma, we can have it all the time.”
“Don’t you get used to it though, having the best food all the time? What’s that saying, without the ordinary there’d be nothing extraordinary?” Caleb asked.
“I used to think that, but it’s been years and the food is still great, so no, you don’t get used to it. It’s utopia here boyo, paradise, the land of the blessed, whatever you want to call it, and not just culinary-wise. We can control our brains and bodies on the micro-level, so there’s no disease and, more importantly, no aging. I realize I might’ve buried the lead on that one, but yeah, we’re immortal here too, along with everything else. Godhood again. Everyone in the Alta, anyone touched by the Pleroma, will live forever, or at least as long as they choose and not be murdered by nature, which is all that matters. We can create anything we might need and want, and so we have everything we might need and want. It’s utopia, but it’s not without its problems.
Frankly, utopia is not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s certainly better than the past and something that everyone should have, power and abundance and immortality and all, and we’ll help them get there, certainly, but it’s not the final place, not by a long shot. Even with all of this, we have a lot to do and further to go. You see, when all the problems are solved, when you can have anything you want all the time, some people just get bored. Who would’ve thought that heaven would be boring. But it is so. Since humans began on the planet Earth all those years ago, our purpose was to survive and solve the problems that nature laid on us—scarcity, poverty, ignorance, disease—so we could have a brief moment to pursue our happiness before we died. But what happens when our survival is secured, the problems are solved, and we have infinite opportunities to pursue our happiness? Wouldn’t life get boring? That’s what we’re struggling with now. Frankly, utopia doesn’t agree with everyone. There’s trouble in paradise and all. Ah, perfect timing. Look over there. See him?”
Han Moret pointed to a man who was a few bonfires over. He was drunk and stumbling through the crowd. Since the man was pleromatized, he had a literal aura of drunkenness around him and projected a blurred existence beyond his body that wreaked a playful and entertaining havoc on others as he walked by.
“Damn it, Thrax. Not again!” someone shouted.
Han Moret continued, “You see, many people here have chosen to drown themselves in happiness and never resurface, as if that’s the only end and aim in life. Maybe it is, maybe we haven’t found the true meaning of happiness yet, maybe there’s something else, who knows, but with the ability to instantly create whatever we want whenever we want it and cure our bodies of anything, a lot of people have chosen to exist in what, in my opinion, is a false state of happiness. They get drunk and use drugs or just go straight to the source and alter their biochemistry so they can remain in a permanent state of euphoria, and they can do so without harm because the Pleroma prevents damage from constant intoxication and allows them to become sober immediately, whenever they choose, so their productivity remains the same, which makes it harder for me to argue that they should imbibe less. There have been many arguments about it. But it’s undeniably a feat of hedonic adaptation for our species when you think about, being bored in heaven and all. Nevertheless, many people like that fellow Thrax over there seem to never want to end it, their eternal happiness. I don’t know, boyo. We’ve done wonders here, but it’s not perfect, far from it.”
Han Moret was silent for a while and looked lost in thought, “Anyways! Apologies, I’ve strayed from my prepared remarks. There’s more for you to learn. Alright, what’s next? Yes, one of my favorites. Lora! Get over here.”
A wind blew through the camp and a woman appeared in front of Caleb. She looked into his eyes and smiled flirtatiously, then became wind again and reappeared behind Caleb. She tapped him on the shoulder and then rose above the ground and swirled around him, finally landing on the seat next to him.
“Hello, Caleb. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She drunkenly leaned into him, “So, did he tell you about the sex yet?”
“Uh…” He looked to Han Moret, who was conveniently looking elsewhere. “No.”
“Of course not, the prit. An old-fashioned manners man through and through. But my god! You have to try it. Imagine two people are like two atoms and now they’re having sex, but people are many atoms, octillions of them, so sex with the Pleroma is octillion times greater, a grinding cloud of pleasure, a great orgy of the Universe, all between two people, or more if that’s your taste. Does that make sense? Oh! See that electric cloud thing in the sky over there? There you go, some people are having a go at it,” thunder rolled across the camp, “and by the sound of it, having a lot of fun. One night when the elders were away and the kids were in bed, we younger ones—well young is relative now, I guess—but anyways, we wanted to test the limits of the stuff, and man…let’s just say we filled the space and rocked the place a little too literally.”
Han Moret interrupted, “Yes you did. Thank you, Lora. You may go now.”
Lora laughed, then kissed Caleb on the cheek and disappeared, creating a golden streak of light across the camp as she moved to another bonfire.
Han Moret resumed his lecture, “So, as you just saw, when you can control the atoms of your body, you can move yourself around. In other words, you can fly. Now, after hearing this, there is, logically, an obvious question.”
Caleb thought for a moment. “How is the mind not destroyed when the body are deconstructed and moved? Wouldn’t the person die in the process?”
“Correct! That is something we did not know until we tried it, or rather one person. Some crazy bastard just tried it one day and it worked, and from the fruit of such courageous experimentation we learned a lot about the nature and structure of consciousness. We still don’t know everything though. We know it has something to do with the attachment of plerons to neural atoms and the signals that they send to each other across a distance, like a spatial expansion of the underlying physical structure of consciousness, but we’re still figuring it out. For now, though, the important thing is that it works.”
“But isn’t the reconstructed person just a copy of the deconstructed one and not really the original person? Wouldn’t the original person be destroyed during deconstruction?”
“No, it’s them. When you go from body to nebulous state to body again, you can feel yourself the entire time. There aren’t any gaps or skips. It’s a continuous process, from one point to another, and you’re aware of it throughout. You can feel yourself dissolving, then nebulous and moving, then coming together again. And let me tell you, when you’re scattered like that, truly at one with the Universe, it’s liberating. It feels like…” Han Moret searched for the right words “…pure being.”
He continued, “Anyways, we’re nearing the end of the night, so let’s end it with a bang. What do you want? You can have anything you’d like. Some Viking ale?” A horned cup appeared in his hand. “One of those Parisian cafes we toured on Earth?” He tossed the cup in front of him and it became a miraged-like partition of one. “An ancient mosque?” The cafe rearranged into one. “A conversation with the legendary President Takhani?” The mosque condensed into the 22nd century woman. “Or better yet, how about a chat with another me?” The President morphed into another Han Moret.
“Fret not, he’s just a copy of me. Not really me. He’s not actually alive at all. Doesn’t have a consciousness. Just a puppet on my mental strings. Anyways, anything you want. What do you say?
Caleb stared at the fire and the flames slowed. He thought “my family” and must have unknowingly projected due to his intense emotional state, because Han Moret sighed.
“I’m sorry Caleb. I can’t do that…Not yet.”
The copy of Han Moret chimed in, “But we’re working on it!”
“Yes, thank you. We’re working on it, trying to resurrect the dead. So far, we can recreate the bodies of those who have been, but it’s recreating their consciousness that’s the tricky part. As you’ve seen, we can deconstruct and reconstruct the consciousness of living individuals across space while maintaining their continuity of being. The Self isn’t destroyed. It’s reconstructing…Hold on, that reminds me.”
The copy of Han Moret dissolved.
“That’s better. It’s reconstructing consciousness across time that’s the problem. Specifically, it’s reconnecting the consciousness of someone who lived in the past at the moment of their death, the presumed termination of their consciousness stream and Self, to the present that’s proving difficult. We’re trying to connect disjointed time-points between death and now so we can restore a dead person’s continuity of being, their true and original Self. We have the ability to create a likeness of someone’s consciousness, dead or alive, as I just showed, but it’s not truly them, it’s just a copy of them. If we can resurrect their stream of consciousness, awaken them from what would seem like a long nap, then we will have achieved true immortality, and not just for those who are living and yet to be born, but for all those who have been, all of the billions who once existed in the Universe, back in the world alive and well, forever. And we’re close, Caleb, we’re close. We actually made a big step today. Let me show you.” He amplified his voice and carried it on the wind, “Arina!”
A young and beautiful woman appeared. Caleb struggled to think of another word than “perfect.”
“Meet Arina. It’s her birthday, by the way.”
“Hello, Arina. Happy….” Caleb stopped because he recognized the name and remembered his conversation with Han Moret earlier. “Hold on, when I asked you how many people were in the Iris, you said that someone named Arina was born today.”
“And indeed they were. Her. The first of her kind, a fully grown human created by the Pleroma. Instantaneous creation. Now, I can anticipate your train of thought, and yes, the ethics of missing childhood with all its memories and growth and learning are concerning, and we will explore them, but we are in the first days of this stuff, so there will be many questions, and we are ready to answer them. But regardless, we constructed a new consciousness boyo! We did it, and we’re learning. Perhaps we can spark consciousness in animals too, any form of life actually…maybe even non-life come to think of it. But the next step is to resurrect old consciousness, which, as you know, would be the true power of resurrection. Godhood again! I told you Caleb, we’re seeking Godhood here, and we’re gaining a little of it every day.”
Han Moret seemed satisfied with himself and took a deep breath. “Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight. You’ve had a long day and have been shown much. Time for some rest. We Irisians don’t need sleep anymore, but you certainly do. Your body isn’t used to the godly life yet, so…tut tut, time for bed.”
The next day, Han Moret flew himself and Caleb around the Iris. Children passed by in the air on their way to school and nearly crashed into them several times, laughing. After a while, Caleb and Han Moret landed near the edge of a lake.
“See them?” Han Moret gestured to a man and woman in the distance between the lake and the foothills of a mountain. They were in the midst of combat. As they fought, various weapons rapidly materialized and dematerialized in their hands; each strike and block with someone new: now a sword, then a bow and arrow, now an axe, then a spear. They were flying and shifting and moving in a rhythmic flow, using the land around them and pure force as weapons. It was a literal storm of battle, as if reality was at war with itself, clashing shards of spacetime, two gods battling in a field.
“So, you want me to learn how to do that? Fight with the Pleroma to defeat the Sargons?” Caleb asked.
“Fight? No, those two are just bored, so they’re having a little dance. For Earth’s sake, Caleb. Haven’t you been listening? Watch.”
There was a boom in the distance. Caleb looked to where a mountain was, or rather, where it used to be, since it was missing. Han Moret had destroyed it instantly, deleting it from existence.
“With this, all you need is to be in the same room as them and then boom, gone forever in the blink of an eye, with only a thought, without even a fight, without even a flinch. Theoretically, you don’t even need to be in the same room as them. You could be here and destroy them wherever they are in the Solar System with targeted pleron dispersal and sufficient transmission relays. You could do whatever you want wherever you want. But I think the people need to see you, Caleb. They need to see you standing before the Sargons, declaring their wrongs, making things right. They need to hear your words, your plans for the future, and see the awesome power of this stuff, how it will change everything. Because with this, there will be no more war. With this, we become God. We’ll live forever, boyo. We’re free now. What will we do? Ah, so much, so much. There’s so much we can do now! Peace in our time, gods in Empire. A new day in a new age. It’s coming, Caleb. Gods among us because they become us. Are you ready?”
Caleb thought for a moment, then closed his eyes and stood in silence.
After a while, he flashed his hand. And all at once, a burst of wind blew, thunder cracked, and the suns shone brighter—the world shook.
He opened his eyes, “Yes.”

how am i supposed to do S1 and p4 physics on 13th and then i have chem p2 chem p5 on 15th and then physics p2 and p5 on 16th why did they have to make such an ass datesheet like how am i supposed to get out of it alive, i hope who ever made the datesheet get a paper cut on their tongue from a razor in a paper cup I hope every soda they drink already shaken up I hope their dreams dry like raisins in the baking sun i hope their titt1es all saggy in their early 20's i hope there's always snow in their driveway i hope they never get off fridays and they work at a friday's that's always busy on fridays I hope they win the lottery and lose their ticket i hope it's Ben and Socrates poop all up in their kitchen i hope the zipper on their jacket get stuck and their headphones short, and their charger don't work and they spill sh1t on their shirt, i hope their wife cheat on them and take the kids with her, i hope they eat dogshit and d word.

Hi, I am 29 and was born into a Christian family, where since childhood till age 22 I attended church and was a strong a believer. However, after something happened at age 18 coupled with oppression from the Church and family, I moved away from Christianity for a long time. Yet, recently after going through a breakup with a non-christian girl, I have began to realize how important the Christian values of marriage are and how they can have a positive impact on a long term relationship.
I still have my doubts and issues with God as I faced a lot of oppression from the Church when I asked questions about the Bible and was seen as an outcast, but I believe that despite the negative past a Christian girl that truly loves God and can be someone who will love and care about me is the right person for me.
I have had some really nice-non Christian friends but what I have come to realize that what separates Christian marriage from a non-Christian marriage are the Biblical values of marriage and the love of God.
When I love someone, I put that person first and strive to continuously improve in becoming someone better towards that person, I am a good listener and can pay attention to every word she says even if she goes on talking for an hour on a monologue, I like to do things for that person such as cook her favorite meal, buy her favorite drink fruits whatever she likes and just be that person who will care about her and grow old together with her. I have also have scolded or had a fight or argument with anyone I have dated because when I truly love someone I become this person that never wants to do anything to hurt the other person's feelings in any way.
In terms of hobbies and interest, I have a plethora of them and have traveled to a few countries but right now everyday after work I head down to the beach and read a book for an hour as the sun sets over the horizon.
If you want someone who will love you unconditionally to the point where it does not matter how your appearance changes over time or what you become later on positive or negative. Let's get to know each other better and see how things.
Yes, I have not read the Bible in years, yes, I don't feel comfortable going to Church but I still hope that one day I get to a point in life where I can grow in God's love and grace together.
I have prayed for 13 years that God will lead to a Christian life-partner and I hope through this post a miracle can take place.

Part 1 // Part 2
I paced my bedroom floor wondering what I should do next. I’d already placed the leg back in the gun safe, then searched the entirety of my house looking for something Christian to place on top of it. It seemed to work in the movies and I didn’t really have any idea what else to do. I couldn’t find my bag of religious paraphernalia, so I ended up fashioning a small crucifix out of two large carrots and hot glue with a little Jesus made out of raisins.
I needed a plan! I was thinking about who might know more information about the artifact I’d come into possession of, then it hit me – all of my competitors!
Surely not all of them were fakes like me!
One by one, I called them up and set up meetings for that afternoon – staggered appointments of course.
The first one to show up was a woman named Destiny. I sent her home immediately after she tracked dog shit into my house from the bottom of her shoes. I will not work with someone who is not only rude but completely oblivious.
The second one was a guy named Tiger, which I thought was a badass name and he was a pretty cool guy. Too bad he failed every test I threw at him. I sent him home, but kept his number in case I wanted to try to connect with him sometime to hangout.
The third psychic was a total nutcase named Psycho Jimmy. I’m honestly not even sure if he was a medium or if google search just lumped the words ‘Psychic’ and ‘Psycho’ into the same page due to a lack of results.
He didn’t say a word to me the entire time. He came into my house, drank a glass of water, walked a lap around the living room, stared directly into my eyes, unblinking, for a solid thirty seconds, then simply left. Total fucking psycho indeed. And yes, I did upgrade my security system shortly after meeting him.
Out of options I reluctantly called Destiny back, even if she did smell like dog poop.
To my surprise, she didn’t smell like shit when she showed back up to my house. She explained to me that it wasn’t her that smelled but it was, in fact, the ghost of her dead dog, Hercules, that followed her around. She further explained that last winter, her dog passed away peacefully in his sleep. She was distraught, but thought it would be in bad taste to leave a dead dog lying on her living room floor, so she loaded the carcass up into a cardboard box along with his favorite blanket and a few toys. Then she sealed the top of the box with packing tape so animals couldn’t get in, and left the box out on her front porch where the cold December weather would keep him fresh for a day until she could gather herself long enough to make arrangements.
Porch pirates showed up not an hour later and stole the box off of her porch thinking they just scored a nice heavy Amazon delivery. I can’t imagine how they must have felt to open it up and find a dead dog.
Now Hercules walks the Earth as a ghost, unable to rest until he has his revenge against those that stole his bones away from his loving mother.
“Uh, okay, that’s…” I had no idea what to say in response to hearing such an insane story, “Well, can you have Hercules stay outside please?”
“Yeah, no problem,” She replied before bending at the waist to pet an invisible dog and whisper loving comments into its ears before following me into my kitchen.
“So how do I know you’re legit?” Was the first question I asked her when we were both seated at the table.
“Because I can see the ghost that is standing in your bedroom door,” She replied calmly.
I spun around in my chair towards my bedroom door just in time to watch it violently slam itself shut.
“You’re hired!”
I re-capped the entire situation to Destiny, who asked to see the leg.
She recoiled as soon as I placed it on the table in front of her, “You didn’t tell me it’s upholstered in human flesh” she said, “Pretty big detail to leave out”
“It is?” I asked.
She pointed to a pinkish brown blemish on the leather that covered the back thigh of the leg, “There is literally a nipple on it”
Closer inspection showed that she was right. The leg did indeed have a nipple on it.
“And here is a tattoo,” she said pointing at a heart shaped blemish. If you looked closely, you could just barely make out the words, “Mommy’s Home”. “Look I don’t know what this leg is, but I know a professor at my old college who might know,” Destiny said, she couldn’t take her eyes off of the nipple. “He specializes in ancient pagan literature and has several books bound with human skin in his collection. If anyone knows anything about this, it has to be him.”
With no other avenues to go down, I agreed a talk with this professor would be a good place to start.
Destiny left my house promising to call me tomorrow to let me know if her old professor had replied to her request to meet. Once again, I was alone with the leg.
Looking at the leg filled me with a strange sort of terror that I hadn’t felt since I was kid. The kind of helplessness you would feel as a child when you lost your mom in the mall, or when you were so sure that the shadow in the corner of your bedroom was a monster lying in wait until the moment you cross from wakefulness into sleep.
I brought the leg back to the gun safe and locked it away before leaving my house for the day. I didn’t have much in the way of errands, but I didn’t even want to be in the same building as the leg.
I wasted the day trying to get my mind off the absolute shit storm of a week I’d had so far. Ghosts, monsters, demons and God knows what else is real. How is someone supposed to just accept that and move forward with their lives? What else might be out there? Is God real? If so, that might be the scariest thing of all.
I went to the movies, but couldn’t pay attention. I went to my favorite restaurant, but didn’t have an appetite. I tried to go go-karting, but couldn’t get over how strange it was to go go-karting by myself. I spent the entire day thinking about how my inbox was full of things I’d thought were fake but now would never fully get over.
Eventually the sun fell and I found myself standing on my front porch trying to come up with any excuse to go and spend money on a hotel room. I almost did, but realized I was too broke to get one even if I wanted to.
A creeping dread wormed its way up my back as I walked through the dark house flipping lights on as went. I checked each room to make sure nothing had moved the positions I had left them in that morning. Looking back, I’m not sure if at that point I was more afraid of a ghost or demon or Psycho Jimmy in my house. Everything seemed to check out.
Feeling slightly better, but still a bit anxious I went to bed.
I woke up in total darkness, in the early morning. I could hear the wind in the trees. I turned over to squint at my alarm clock when the sound of my bedroom door unlatching made my stomach drop. In a flash I shot up in bed and tried to flip on the lamp on my nightstand only to find the light bulb had been removed.
I grabbed my phone, turned on the flashlight and directed the light at the door. The door was, indeed, unlatched and cracked open just a sliver. I sat in total silence, watching the small black crack between the door and the door frame, my ears strained to pick up any noise other than the wind outside.
My jaw dropped as the door slowly creaked forward, opening itself just wide enough for a head to peek into the room, but no one was there, just the empty blackness of the dark hallway beyond. My hands shook as I stared at the doorway, hoping something would come through, anything – a monster, a zombie, Psycho Jimmy. Anything would be better than the dread of sitting there in anticipation, my imagination conjuring up the worst. My heart was pounding against my ribcage and my mouth went dry. I gripped my phone with two hands to try to steady the shaking, but still they trembled, sending shadows dancing across my bedroom walls.
Then the door closed, just as slowly as it had opened, the door pulled itself back into its frame and latched itself closed.
Realizing I had forgotten to breathe, I sucked in air like a dying fish. I licked my lips and loosened my grip on my phone but my hands were still trembling and I dropped it. The phone bounced off the corner of my nightstand, hit the carpeted floor and bounced again under my bed.
A whole new set of shadows filled the room as the bright, fluorescent white light of the iPhone flashlight emanated from under my dirty bed.
It might sound weird, but this was almost as bad as the door opening by itself. The loss of control was devastating in the moment and I lunged over the side of the bed and blindly flailed my arm around searching for the phone.
My thrashing arm sent a wholly new set of shadows dancing around my room pushing my pulse even higher.
I’d never regretted not cleaning my room harder. I was wildly grabbing things and flinging them out from under the bed as soon as I confirmed they weren’t a cell phone. Magazines, old electronics and a few rock-hard socks flew across the room as I shoveled them out from under the bed. I continued to grasp blindly when my hand came across something I didn’t immediately recognize. It was a mess of tangled stringy material that seemed to grab at my hand as I brushed past it. I gripped and tugged hard to bring it out onto my bedroom floor, but encountered resistance as whatever it was seemed to cling to its secret refuge under my bed. I reestablished my grip on the object and pulled again, harder this time. I engaged the muscles in my stomach and back and just as it seemed the object would never relent a loud POP! echoed through the room as the object came free in my hand.
Startled and thrown off balance, I fell off my bed and sprawled onto the carpet below with the object still in my hand. I looked down at it and my blood turned to ice as I realized I was holding a woman’s head, her face frozen in surprise, her mouth a wide ‘O”.
I dropped the head and scrambled backwards on my butt until my back hit the opposite wall. It was only then I realized it was the head of a sex doll I had ordered 4 years ago, but never used. (It was too weird. Maybe guys who like sex dolls, would also like fucking dead bodies. Not for me!). Her name was Cynthia. I had hidden her under my bed in shame shortly after bringing her home and had forgotten about her. It’s not like a life-size doll is something you can easily throw away without the neighbors asking questions.
I relaxed at that moment. A wave of relief and amusement washed over me and I made a vow to get rid of Cynthia that weekend. Even if that meant I had to cut her into pieces and dispose of her in separate trash bags thrown into separate dumpsters like some sort of mannequin serial killer.
I started to get back up on my feet when the shadows danced around the room again. I glanced toward the space under the bed and saw the light was moving. Something under my bed had control of my phone.
Blinded by the light which was now pointed directly at me, I squinted my eyes to try to make out what fresh new terror was about to befall me. Slowly a form came into shape. A contorted silhouette that writhed in the confined space. It banged against the bed frame above it as it tried to right itself. The light moved, left, right, up, down as the dark shape twisted violently, but it always pointed the light directly into my eyes without fail.
For a moment, the noises below the bed stopped and the light remained still. The only noises audible were my own breathing and the wind that continued to whip the trees outside. I used my hand to shield my eyes from the now stable point of light and the shape solidified into a new form. It was a person crouched low. A Headless person. It was Cynthia.
She began to slowly crawl towards me. My heart skipped a beat as fear paralyzed me for a half second. Cynthia moved closer, moving in a jerky, unnatural motion because I hadn’t opted for the RealGirl™ realistic joint package.
My heart skipped another beat as curiosity paralyzed me for another half a second. Would it really be so bad to let her get to me? What would she do? Fuck me to death? Then I remembered she had fully articulated hands and a skeleton made out of titanium which snapped me out of it pretty quickly.
Cynthia dragged herself along, now halfway out from under the bed, my cellphone in hand.
I leapt into action. I sprang to my feet, took a few steps towards her and kicked at her. Unfortunately, it was dark and I aimed where a head would have been had this been a real person, or a fully-functional sex doll, and broke a toe on my metal bed frame.
Cynthia grabbed for me, but I quickly took a step back and she narrowly missed, her silicone fingers just brushing the skin of my leg. I tried another kick and this time aimed for my cellphone. I connected and sent the phone sliding across the bedroom carpet where it collided with the wall with such force that it flipped itself over landing the flashlight side-down.
The room plunged into darkness with the exception of the small light of my iPhone lock screen. I needed to get to the phone before the lock screen went dark in about 10 seconds, otherwise I would probably never find it.
I made a dash for the phone, but Cynthia caught my ankle sending me crashing to the floor. I couldn’t look back. I needed that phone, that light. Even if it was only so I could see how I was going to die I needed it. Worst case scenario, if I decided I didn’t like what I was seeing, I could always just turn the light off.
Not even wasting the time to stand back up, I crawled for my phone. I could hear the joints in Cynthia’s arms and legs squeak as she emerged from the bed behind me and stood herself up. (When I ordered her, they said the squeaking would fade with use, but like I said, I never used her, I want to make that very clear!) Still, I didn’t look back, I crawled forward, not paying attention to the rug burn on my knees or the pain that radiated up my leg from my broken toe or the 6 foot (tall girls, call me!) murderous sex bot that was standing itself up a mere few feet behind me. I need that phone.
I slammed my hand on the phone just as the light from the home screen faded away and I turned and pointed the flashlight at Cynthia.
She stood tall on her two feet, wearing a tattered and dusty school girl outfit (I’m different now), one large pendulous breast hung outside of her brassiere.
I was done for. Toast. Stick a fork in me. I was lying on my back, looking up at a killer dominatrix with a titanium skeleton, no head and zero pain receptors. All she had to do was fall forward and she’d be on top of me, strangling me with her delicate, perfectly formed and articulated fingers. Maybe, if I was lucky, her other breast would fall out of her shirt in the fall – you know, at least give me something to look at as life drained from me. Fortunately for me, that isn’t what she did.
The killer doll took one-step towards me and faltered.
The thing about sex dolls is that they are mainly designed to sit in chairs, pose on all fours and do a lot of lying on their backs. No one buys a sex doll to have it stand around. That’s like buying a dildo to use as a Christmas tree ornament. Sure, maybe with a little practice and a couple hidden supports you could have it stand around your house like some sort of fucked up anime wax museum, but that’s just not what it is designed to do. Especially if you didn’t spring for the RealGirl™ realistic joint package. I honestly doubt a real human woman would be able to stand unassisted if you gave them the strange cartoony proportions most of these dolls have.
So, Cynthia took a step towards me, wobbled, top heavy. Tried to over-correct, then fell backwards onto my night stand and started squirming to get back on her feet.
I took the opportunity to run.
I got back to my feet and found the bedroom door. My hand hesitated on the knob for a millisecond as I considered what else there might be hiding behind this door, then I opened it anyway. I rushed out of my bedroom and sprinted down the hallway, hearing moans and clicking and growling from behind the doors of the bathroom and second bedroom as I rushed past. I came to the end of the hallway to the main living area and kitchen and turned to head towards the door when I took one last look down the dark hallway towards my bedroom.
Just barely visible through the darkness was Cynthia, crawling on all fours out of the bedroom. Her head was now re-attached but backwards so she faced the ceiling as she crawled forward, her nails making a click-clack sound as she crossed from the carpeted bedroom to the hardwood floor of the hallway.
I shuddered and made for the door.
My plan was to get in the car and drive away, but I left my car keys inside. Instead, I walked to Walmart, the one place on earth where you can walk around in boxers and a white t-shirt and no one bats an eye.
For the second time in 12 hours, I was trying to distract myself to take my mind off of the horrors the lifting of the veil had shown me and this time I was stuck in a Walmart - the epicenter of human horror.
It actually wasn’t too bad; I only had a few hours to kill before the sun came up. At that point, I’d head back to my place, get some clothes and catch up with Destiny to see if she had scheduled a meeting with her old professor yet. I supposed I’d be expecting a call from Pedro at some point as well, I did promise him an internship. I just hoped I could run faster than him.

Ted did not leave my head. He said he "didn't want to risk getting lost," also he could see this way, using my eyes. He was used to being in a body with multiple minds, only, he was the dominant one before. He might still be come to think of it, the Irritating worm.
My walk home was more of a stumble and scrape now. My sides hurt and I'm sure I lost some weight. I needed a walking stick—or a wheelchair, hell, get me a gurney.
Ted kept me talking. I think it was just to make sure I didn't double over and die.
He asked, "So, that thing took you for a ride huh? Made you dream of things? What happened before I came and rescued you?"
That Ted, always reminding me that I almost died without him. I would have to use this opportunity to punish him.
"Oh, it was the best. I was dreaming of my ex-girlfriend. Let me describe her—"
"Actually, I take that back. I know where this is going," Ted interrupted. "I believe you. Go back to groaning or—whatever."
"Let's see, I can only describe her as the extra-most-bestest hot-and-ready pornstar-Barbie I've always wanted," I said dreamily.
"La-la-la I'm not listening," he sang.
"But, and it's a big but, to keep in the pizza theme; to her, Little Caesars' Crazy Bread is just plain ol' bread. She was crazy, which was great sometimes. I would tap that like Morse code."
"Please, I beg of you. I take back all of the bullying I've ever inflicted upon you. Just stop."
"But I'm just getting to the good part. You aren't bashful, are you?" I took a note. Ted, from planet Tedidian-Beta, had a cultural modesty like Earth. I could use that.
"No, I am not bashful. I merely wish not to hear of your conquests," he shot back.
"Well good, then I'll continue. You know that awkward interlude between when you go, and you can go again?"
"I wish to be acquainted with this God fellow you mentioned before. Kill me now so I can meet him."
"Not in a fever dream. Yeah baby. It's all day and all night in there," I tapped my head.
Bullying Ted aside, I really wasn't having that much fun. If you remember, I'm still being held together by glue, but as it turns out, nothing in this place is insignificant. Every small detail would be important to my survival, or lack thereof.
In this case, it would be in the form of those little creatures with way too much skin. When I last saw them, they were in the carved-out tunnel licking clean the protein bar wrapper. Now, I noticed a cautious following of these things. They hid from me when I shined a light towards them, but not completely, always peering around a rock or corner. They were getting braver, perhaps smelling my blood in the air.
Now that I can see them a little better, I think of a quote from one Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German poet.
"Give me an ounce of gold, and I'll plate the whole world."
"Give me just one of these skin aliens, and I'll upholster the whole crypt, throw pillows included," a quote from one Sean Miller, American astronaut, just now.
I aimed Ted's gun, and they all scattered. "Smart enough to know what this thing is," I thought. "Not smart enough not to follow unfortunately."
They kept coming when I turned back, keeping a respectful distance. Whenever I stopped for a break, they stopped. Whenever I sped up, they sped up. Whenever I needed to eat, they too stopped and ate, finding burrowing creatures the way I had when I was opened like a fish. They even stopped to "relieve themselves" when I found nature's call too strong to ignore.
I really shouldn't ignore them. The moment I ignore them, they will assuredly pounce like bloodthirsty rats. Though, it has been a few days. I know, "days" with quotes, but if I don't use some unit of time I am familiar with, I might go insane—or insaner. My circadian rhythm clung to any cycle it could find, like an overly attached girlfriend. It found no rhythm in; when I could eat, lighting level cycles, nor in exertion. As a result, sleep came irregularly, but I still feel the need to call the moments in between sleep "days."
It was days of following and not approaching. Days of me stumbling about when I should be horizontal in a hospital bed. Days of little to no food, and only juicy hydrating glow fungus to keep my lips wet.
They followed like a pack of ugly flat wolves, waiting for the first sign of weakness. I can't think like that. I can't imagine myself being torn apart, prey to another lesser carnivore. Not now, not after having defeated so many greater carnivores. Thoughts like that are bad—bad for me, bad for America.
I miss home. More now that I am semi-coherent. I miss sashaying my way through training of all things. I remember everything leading up to the launch like it was today. It was after the death of the greatest space craze in human history. After 14 more shallow graves were dug on Mars, where no flesh could decompose properly, leaving a final lonely body without a hole of his own to lay in.
That was very sad news to everyone of all nations. We were, for the first time in human history, united in common grief. There were efforts, but no amount of money in the world could save them. They signed up for that, as I had this. No one ever wanted to speak of space again after this, then "it" was found. A thing that punched far and above its weight class in gravitational pull. It just appeared amongst the asteroid field between Mars and Jupiter, affecting neither, and affected by neither. No one knew what it was, or how it got there. It just was.
It was barely big enough to be considered a dwarf planet, but for some reason or another, the lab coats at NASA refused to classify it as such. Pluto had suffered a similar fate, downgraded from planetary status to dwarf planet. How good it must feel to be able to revoke "dwarf planetary membership" from this thing, like what was done to her. Or maybe Pluto would have preferred to have a friend. Schadenfreude vs. loneliness, that was Pluto's dilemma.
Of course, Pluto was just a rock, uninterested in such opinions. This thing, however, was more than that. Sure, it was "rock" but why so heavy? Why just appear out of nowhere? And why do we see movement in the holes peppering its surface?
I am, like the Martian astronauts before me, like the alien explorers long dead, like Ted who was also dead, doomed to a graveless death, no marker left behind but my body.
Then why am I still walking? Why not find a nice little planet with low gravity for my back pain, and maybe some nice aliens that eat what I eat? I could learn their language, and find a nice little blue lady to settle down with. But for some reason, I don't. Even if I have to walk, I will on bloody stumps, make it home. There's that human stubbornness I mentioned earlier, or perhaps delirium.
"My word, you are mawkish," Ted said. "And yes, I know what you were thinking. You were monologuing to yourself, in your own head. Do you like the sound of your own voice? You know, you can think in any voice you want. I've heard you do it."
"Entertaining parasites never was my forte, but I'll work on it."
"Well, while you were listening to the sound of your own inner voice—boring by the way, find a new hobby—I found a pattern in the walls."
"Huh?"
"We are approaching another portal," he spelled out. "Look."
He took control of my right arm and pointed with it. Hidden within images of unknown creatures, chicken scratch I can only assume is language, and other nonsensical markings, was an image of a six-armed alien reaching out to touch the hand of a hunchbacked creature.
I stared at it for a moment, then asked. "How close are we?"
"Very," he said.
I then remembered the planet that nearly crushed me.
"How big is the planet? Can I breathe there?" I asked.
"I don't know, but you are an explorer. Go explore."
"And you're my translator. Translate."
Secretly, I think Ted was more interested in exploring than I was at the moment. I was just internally monologuing about home, but I have to admit, seeing alien worlds is what I signed up for.
I walked on, still followed by my hungry wolf pack, and came to the portal Ted predicted. It was solid like concrete. The residents of this world must have been tired of visitors, or chasing wandering children, and sealed shut this tomb. I placed a hand on the rocky surface.
"Shame. I was really hoping to see the other side," Ted said.
"Can you blame them? This portal appeared in their own backyard. They could have nations like mine. Which nation did it land on? Did that country survive when all others wanted to take this thing? Or even if they were united, this place is full of so much death and danger."
"True," was Ted's reply. "Still though. It's a shame to have to turn back."
We would turn back, but found ourselves cornered by the little rats. They formed a carpet of folds and freckles. When I pointed Ted's gun at them, all but one scattered. That one approached carefully, coming to just about mid-shin height, and laid at my feet, some worm with gills. That one left, and another came. Then another, and another, and another. By the time they were finished, there was a pile of quietly shrieking worms. Knowing my luck, those worms were probably also intelligent, but I won't turn down a free meal.
Had I just gotten here, I would have politely declined, thanked them, and offered them some of my food in return. Now that I have tasted what it takes to survive in a place like this, I knelt down in front of the pile, and ate like a starving animal. I stopped only when my wounds reminded me how inelastic my sutures were.
In stories, people feared alien diseases. Think, the aliens from "War of the Worlds." Honestly, I think that author just wrote himself into a corner. In reality, our diseases never would have evolved to infect alien hosts. The food sources they were after would not have existed in the alien landscape of a Martian's respiratory system unless they originated from Earth. It's the same reason my body struggles to digest any alien creature I come across. I'm here to tell you, If I find a dead human, I'm eating it, no second thoughts. My gut would thank me. You judge, but you haven't been brought to the point I have. The worms did help though. They took the edge off. Thank you, little wrinkly mice.
Apparently, I was to be their big scary bipedal glass-domed monster, emphasis on "their." We found ourselves in a crypt full of monsters and ghouls, and I was the friendliest of them all. Not to mention, this monster just whopped another bigger scarier one's ass, Though, at great cost and bodily harm.
Placing my hand back to the wall, the concrete felt warm. I forgot how cold I was. It turns out, it's cold out here with no sun. One of the few sources of warmth were these portals that happened to exist on a planet's surface.
The largest of the naked rats crawled on a five-limbed chassis towards me, stared up, then to the wall. I'm going to call him Jim-Bob from here on out. His uneven number of limbs each tapped the ground rhythmically, with no real discernible pattern other than the rhythm and semi-constant speed.
"I think he's talking," Ted spoke.
"Can you tell what he's saying?"
"Their speech travels through the ground and I can't feel what they feel because your feet aren't sensitive enough, so no. I can't translate, but I can tell you they are attempting to drill through the concrete."
Sure enough, I looked over, and that's exactly what they were doing. Powerful teeth and grasping claws were hard at work. These creatures had a profound understanding of leverage, and used it well. It wouldn't be long before they made it through, no matter how thick the concrete was.
"That's a bad idea," I suggested.
"Why?" Ted asked.
"They plugged this hole for a reason. What if they were constantly being invaded by aliens and monsters? What if they shoot me on sight? It's best we leave them alone."
Ted was profoundly disappointed, but admitted, "and they could have guards stationed just outside. Then how do you suggest we stop them?"
"Walk away?" I suggested.
I did. The hard workers stopped, looked to me, then scurried to the front of me, leading the way.
It worked. It seemed the rats were desperate to appease me. They were like used car salesmen offering me snacks and water to convince me to buy their most expensive model. Kinda slimy if you think of it, or cute if you squint.
As all things inevitably end up down here, we ran into yet another monster... "yippee," I say in my most nauseated voice.
A lazy xenobiologist would call this thing reptilian, just because it came with scales and feathers, and a forked tongue. Nothing you find off Earth could ever be reptilian, of course, because reptiles never left Earth. Or, as far as I'm aware. The verdict is still out on the dinosaurs.
I take that back. Maybe this is a dinosaur, after 65 million more years of evolution. In that case, I take back what I said about lazy xenobiologists. My inner child hopes against reason to see a dinosaur so much that I'll even tack that title onto something that couldn't possibly be one.
I drew Ted's gun and aimed it. It backed away. Okay then, Maybe we have an understanding.
Its head tilted towards the gun. There was a strong sense of recognition and fear in those eyes.
"Ted? Tell me you didn't shoot one of these when you were alive."
"I assuredly did not," he responded.
"Then why is it looking at your gun like this?"
Next chapter: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/875wnXbxrl