Tuesday May 7th 2024
Wolstein Center, Cleveland, OH
WBW Presents: Tuesday Night Spectactle
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This theme plays as KO comes down to the ring. Kevin grabs a microphone and says “CLEVELAND! 2 nights ago I had a classic match with my best friend Sami Zayn.. Then the Nemeth Brothers decided to get involved and for whatever reason chose me to win. Now tonight I am in the main event against Drew Mc-”.This theme plays and Drew McIntyre comes down to the ring with a microphone. Drew says “Kevin would you please stop worrying about my friend Nic. This is going to be your downfall my friend. Focus on our match tonight. We are supposed to have a 5 star classic but instead you're worrying about a cheerleader. But if you want to keep focusing on the Nemeth’s they are here!”. Drew exits the ring much to KO’s confusion. Nic and Ryan hop the barricades and surround KO on both sides of the ring. KO throws a strike at Ryan first but the number’s game catches up to him fast. Sami runs down but is intercepted by Claymore from Drew. Drew hits Sami with a Futureshock DDT on the ramp and throws him into the ring. Drew says “Get a referee down here. I got confirmation already its Sami Zayn vs my boy Nic Nemeth next!”. A referee comes running down to the ring as Drew gets on commentary for the match.
This segment takes 10 minutes (2:50 left of show time)
Sami Zayn w/ Kevin Owens vs Nic Nemeth w/ Ryan Nemeth
Sami is still down after the vicious attack from Drew McIntyre. Nic hits his 10 Elbow Drops going for the pin right off the bat. Sami kicks out at 2. Nic hits the ground in frustration expecting an easy win. Nic sets up in the corner for a Sweet Chin Music connecting! Nic falls into a pinfall. Sami kicks out at 2 and a half. Sami finally begins to fight back with a few strikes and goes for an Exploder Suplex. Nic lands on his feet. Sami turns around right into a superkick. Nic sets up in the corner connecting with another superkick. Nic then climbs the turnbuckle and goes for a big Elbow Drop. Sami gets to his feet and connects with a Blue Thunder Bomb out of nowhere going for the pin. Nic kicks out at 2 and 3/4 much to Sami’s shock. Sami lifts Nic up and hits a Exploder Suplex into the corner. Nic stumbles into the corner and Sami backs into the other corner for a Helluva Kick. Ryan grabs his legs and drags Sami into the turnbuckle. The referee was busy checking on Nic! KO grabs Ryan and hits him with a powerbomb onto the apron. KO turns around right into a Claymore Kick from Drew. Drew taunts KO and Sami as Sami turns his attention to Drew upset at him. Nic sneaks up behind Sami and hits him with a Zig Zag going for the pin. Nic gets the 3! Nic slips out of the ring as Drew joins him on the ramp. Ryan holding his back joins them laughing. KO checks Sami, staring up the ramp at Drew pissed off.
This match takes 10 minutes (2:40 left of show time)
Sami is seen backstage with KO. KO is pissed off saying how he is going to make Drew pay for this. Sami calms KO down and tells him to just be prepared for his match. KO agrees and walks off. Sami walks up to Mark Steel’s office door and knocks. Mark yells “Come in”. Sami walks in and Mark ushers for him to sit down. Sami says “Mr Steel you have to realize that if nothing is done the Nemeth Brothers will get involved in the main event”. Mark looks at Sami and says “I've already dealt with that. They were asked to leave the arena. And as such you will too. That way neither Drew nor KO will have unnecessary help tonight. Do I make myself cl-”. Drew bursts into the room and says “Mark I don't care if the Nemeth Brothers are there or not. Unlike Kevin I don't need their help to win”. Drew walks out as Mark and Sami stare at each other in shock.
This segment takes 5 minutes (2:35 left of show time)
Seth Rollins vs Carmelo Hayes - Round 2 of Winners Bracket for World Title Tournament
Seth and Carmelo begin circling each other. Seth offers a handshake and Melo takes it. Seth quickly rolls Hayes up for a quick kick out at 1. Melo and Seth both get to their feet at the same time and Seth laughs. Hayes throws a right fist sending Seth right to the ground. Hayes lifts Seth up and hits a Suplex into the Spinning Back Elbow combo. Hayes climbs the turnbuckle and hits a Fedora Frog Splash going for the pin. Seth kicks out at 2. Hayes climbs the turnbuckle again going for a Nothing But Net. Seth gets to his feet and hits Hayes with a Revolution Knee in mid air. Hayes hits the ground with a thud and Seth takes advantage with a Pedigree going for the pin. Hayes kicks out at 2. Seth backs into the corner stomping and preparing for a Curbstomp. Hayes throws Seth up into the air and hits a Samoan Drop on the way down. Hayes follows up with a Fedora Frog Splash going for the pin and getting a 2 and a half on Seth. Hayes doesn't stop as he climbs again and hits Nothing But Net going for the pin again. Seth kicks out at 2 and 3/4 which makes Hayes hit the ground in frustration. Hayes backs into the corner with his eyes glazed. He sets up to hit Seth’s curbstomp. Seth rolls out of the way and Hayes turns around right into a Spinning Elbow. Seth drops into the corner and hits a Curbstomp. Seth connects and goes for the pin. Hayes kicks out at 2 and a half. Seth hits the ground before throwing Hayes up the Turnbuckle going for a Falcon Arrow followed by a second Falcon Arrow. Seth climbs again going for a Frog Splash but Hayes rolls out of the way. Hayes quickly climbs the ropes going for a Nothing but Net but Seth rolls out of the way before connecting with a Superkick to Hayes while he was on his knees. Seth climbs to the second Turnbuckle and hits a super curb stomp right then and there going for the pin and getting the 3. Seth sits on his knees as the announcer announces his victory! Seth is going on to Round 3!
This match takes 15 minutes (2:20 left of show time)
Austin Theory and Grayson Waller ambush Seth from behind. MJF jumps the barricade and joins the assault when Laredo Kid, Myzteziz and Artemis come running down to the ring. They chase off MJF and A-Town Down Under before helping Seth to his feet. Seth grabs a microphone and says “Hey Max. I'll see you next week”. Seth stands tall with the Air Riders as MJF and A-Town Down Under retreat up the ramp!
This segment takes 5 minutes (2:15 left of show time)
This theme plays and out comes AJ Styles. AJ grabs a microphone and says “Last Sunday in Pittsburgh I lost everything. The Judgement Day attacked me before my match and broke my arm. Now I make no excuses cause at the end of the day I am the one who tapped out. But now I must focus on whoever wins next week to decide who will face me next week as well in the Second Round of the Losers Bracket. Whoever it is just know I will walk through the fucking fi-”. This theme plays and Finn Balor comes down to the ring with JD and Dom. Finn says “Next week I have to face the winner of the main event but before that. Thought I would pay you a visit. To make sure you remember.. THE JUDGEMENT DAY RUN WBW”. Out of nowhere AJ is attacked from behind by Chris Ridgeway. Judgement Day has a new member! This theme plays The Calamari Catch Kings theme plays and Chris Brookes runs down to the ring with the Lykos Gym. The Lykos Gym and Chris Brookes even the numbers and chase the Judgement Day up the ramp. AJ puts out a Bullet Club forever sign and CCK joins him! Judgement Day has bigger worries now as Chris Ridgeway’s first round opponent in the Battleground Tournament is in the ring with Judgement Day’s biggest rival!
This segment takes 10 minutes (2:05 left of show time)
The Riott Squad vs Shafir and Duke - Qualifier for 6 team Ladder Match for Women's Tag Titles
There are currently 3 titles without champions crowned. The World Championship, The Battleground Championship and the Women's Tag Championship. The latter is the only one not in a tournament. Instead there will be 6 qualifiers, 2 per spectacle. Where the winners are added to a 6 team ladder match. Tonight we get the first of 6 qualifiers as Liv Morgan and Ruby Soho team up once more in WBW to take on 2 enforcers of the ring in Marina Shafir and Jessamyn Duke. It starts with Liv Morgan and Ruby Soho on top. They have slightly more chemistry and experience allowing them to take the early edge. However as the match goes on it gets more balanced as the technical duo begin to roll in the later half. The match reaches its boiling point when Shafir locks Liv in an arm bar. Liv manages to get out, tossing Shafir into the ropes. Duke tags in but gets off the apron. Liv doesnt know as she hits a ObLIVion followed by a tag to Soho. Soho sets up and hits Shafir with the Soho Kick going for the pin. Duke comes out of nowhere and hits Liv with a German right onto Soho. Liv and Shafir both roll out of the ring as Duke drops into the corner. Soho stirs to her feet and Duke connects with a spear. Duke falls into the pin and gets the 3 on Soho. Shafir joins her in the ring as they celebrate one step closer to the Women's Tag Titles!
This match takes 15 minutes (1:50 left of show time)
After the match The Riott Squad attack Shafir and Duke from behind clearly upset about their loss. Lola Vice runs down to the ring with a steel chair and chases them off. Liv and Ruby retreat up the ramp as Lola grabs a microphone. Duke and Shafir stand at either side of her and she says “WE ARE THE HORSEWOMEN” to a massive cheer from the crowd!
This segment takes 5 minutes (1:45 left of show time)
This theme plays and the Rated R Superstar makes his WBW debut! Edge comes out to a loud pop. He enters the ring with a microphone and says “CLEVELAND OHIO! I HAVE BEEN ALL AROUND THE WORLD. I HAVE BEEN IN COMPANY AFTER COMPANY. AND NOW I'M HERE IN WBW. Man it feels good to be here. A Lot of great men in that locker room. The Judgement Day, Seth Rollins, Matt Cardona and Brian Myers. All these men I have history with. And all these men I suspect I will have a match with at some point in my tenure here. But enough talking cause I'm itching to step in that ring once again. So if anybody in the back wants a shot at beating one of the greatest to ever step in the ring, come out right now.. THIS IS AN OPEN CHALLENGE!”. This theme plays and out comes WBW’s newest star, A little less massive but still a great get, the ever talented Cara Noir!
This segment takes 10 minutes (1:35 left of show time)
Edge vs Cara Noir
Edge offers his hand for a handshake but Cara bats it away. Edge looks shocked and before he can react Cara hits him with an uppercut. Cara Noir begins hitting aerial offense in hopes to put Edge on the back of his feet. It works at first until he goes for a springboard knee and gets speared out of mid air. Edge stomps into the corner and prepares hitting a second more impactful spear going for the pin. Edge gets the 3 over Cara and stands tall after a 5 minute match!
This match takes 5 minutes (1:30 left of show time)
Edge stands up after getting the 3 on Cara Noir to a load of cheers! His head then turns to the ramp as This theme plays. The crowd pops once again as Randy Orton slowly descends down the ramp. He begins circling the ring like a shark. Edge prepares for a fight as Orton reaches the front of the apron. Orton acts like he's gonna jump up but backs off laughing at Edge. Orton turns and returns up the ramp and the only question of Edge, and the crowds, mind.. What is Randy Orton up to?
This segment takes 5 minutes (1:25 left of show time)
The System are backstage celebrating their title win when The Premiere Athletes walk up to them. Woods says “Moose I could care less what you think I want my rematch”. Moose just starts laughing at him and then says “You just lost the Scramble Match you're gonna have to earn that rematch”. Woods responds with “Oh don't worry i'm well aware which is why I came back here to inform Brian Myers. It's me vs him next, sanctioned by WBW Owner Mark Steel himself. Cya out there Champ”. Josh Woods puts his hand on Brian’s shoulder for a second before walking off. Daivari and Nese follow him out.
This segment takes 5 second (1:20 left of show time)
Josh Woods vs Brian Myers w/ Eddie Edwards
Josh Woods and Brian Myers circle each other as the bell is rung. They quickly get into a technical lockup which Woods gets the better of pushing Myers into the corner. Woods backs up as the referee tells him too and Myers takes advantage with a low knee. The referee yells at him but Myers doesn't care going for an early pin. Woods kicks out at 1. Brian continues his assault for a little bit before climbing the ropes going for a Heat Seeking Elbow. Woods rolls out of the way and tries to lock in a Knee Bar. He cant get it in properly and Myers escapes with a Enzuigiri followed by a Roster Cut going for the pin. Woods kicks out at 2. Myers climbs the turnbuckle and hits a Heat Seeking Elbow. He climbs up one more time to hit a second one once again going for the pin. Woods kicks out at 2 and a half. Myers hits the ground and is frustrated. He then lifts Josh up looking for a Taste the Danger. Woods drops down behind him and catches him in the Knee Bar. Myers screams in pain as he's in the hold for well over a minute before finally tapping out. Woods has just gotten a massive win!
This match takes 10 minutes (1:10 left of show time)
After the match Moose hits Woods from behind with his belt. Daivari and Nese try to intercept but the tag champs get in their way and the 2 teams begin brawling through the crowd and out of the arena. Moose now has Woods all to himself as he sets up Game Changer. This theme plays and the Monster Among Men runs down to the ring. He hits Moose with a shoulder tackle sending him flying. Moose quickly slides out of the ring and retreats up the ramp as Braun helps Woods to his feet. Braun and Woods stand tall as Moose stands at the top of the ramp outraged.
This segment takes 5 minutes (1:05 left of show time)
Mark Steel is backstage talking to KO. KO says “Why did you tell Sami to go home, It was the Nemeth Brothers and Drew getting involved not him”. Mark responds with “It is my job to focus on safety and wellbe-”. Moose interrupts him, as KO storms off, “Wellbeing my ass. Braun just showed up and attacked me. I demand retribution”. Mark says “That's funny cause he only came out to protect Josh Woods who you attacked first. Instead i've decided it's going to be Josh Woods and Braun Strowman next week to decide who will be the #1 contender for your WCW Intercontinental Championship. Oh and if you or any other member of the System show up.. You will be forced to vacate your title immediat-”. Josh Woods walks up interrupting “Next week I'm gonna beat Braun Strowman and then I'm going to make you regret attacking me tonight”. Woods walks off as Mark takes a deep breath clearly annoyed about being interrupted yet again.
This match takes 10 minutes (0:50 left of show time)
Stupid Youth Project vs Paige Sisters w/ Ella Envy - Qualifier for 6 Team Ladder Match for Women's Tag Titles
Alice Crowley and Billie Starkz team up to take on Pretty Empowered’s Kylie and Kenzie Paige. Alice and Kenzie have a powerhouse display while Billie and Kylie use their high-flying ability. Both teams wanted to win badly. In the end it comes down to a last second ditch effort from Billie to connect with a frog splash and pin Kenzie for the 3 count. They will be joining The Horsewomen in the 6 team Ladder Match!
This match takes 10 minutes (0:40 left of show time)
Drew Gulak and Alpha Academy w/ Maxxine Dupri vs Legado Del Fantasma w/ Elektra Lopez
This match is a very chaotic match so like the Women's Tag Qualifiers I decided to just give it a basic description. All potential encounters happen as everyone from each team fought everyone from the other team. In the end Maxxine and Elektra argue and Elektra lays Maxxine out. This takes Otis’ attention for one second and the Los Lotharios take advantage with double chopblocks. Garza forces Otis to his feet and hits a Wingclipper as Humberto hits a Suicide Dive wiping out the rest of the Academy. Garza goes for the pin and Gulak attempts to get involved when he's hit with a Canadian Destroyer by Aeroboy. Gable gets to his feet and attempts to slide in but Escobar grabs his legs as Garza gets the 3! Legado Del Fantasma stood tall together in the ring celebrating.
This match takes 15 minutes (0:25 left of show time)
Chad Gable begins yelling at Otis. Drew Gulak gets in the way and tells Gable that's not how you treat your student. Gable shoves him and Gulak delivers a stiff kick before locking in an arm bar. Otis gets to his feet dejected as Gable yells out “Remember No Matter What”. Otis mutters under his breath “No Matter What” before lifting Drew off Gable and sending him crashing through the barricade. The rest of Alpha Academy meet them on the ramp as LDF watches the chaos in awe.
This segment takes 5 minutes (0:20 left of show time)
Drew McIntyre vs Kevin Owens - Round 2 of Winners Bracket for World Title Tournament
We finally reach the main event. Sami Zayn isn't allowed to show up, nor are the Nemeth Brothers. It's just Drew and KO. The match starts with KO lunging at Drew with a stiff kick before hitting him in the back sending him to the ground. Drew rolls out of the ring but KO follows persisting on the attack as the count starts. KO bangs Drew’s head off the announce table before throwing him into the steel steps. KO follows and Drew manages to get to his feet connecting with a Claymore. Drew quickly ducks in the ring looking for an easy 10 count. Kevin gets in at 9. Drew persists on the attack hitting a Futureshock DDT going for the pin. Kevin kicks out at 1. Drew looks shocked and backs into the corner. Drew begins counting down from 3 and goes for the Claymore. Kevin catches him mid air and hits a Powerbomb on the spot going for a pin. Drew kicks out at 1. KO hits the ground in frustration as Drew stumbles into the corner. KO kicks Drew in the midsection before backing up. He turns around and goes for the cannonball but Drew moves out of the way just in the nick of time! Drew connects with a Claymore going for the pin. KO kicks out at 2. Drew gets in the referee's face and asks him why it wasn't a 3. KO takes advantage pushing Drew into the referee knocking the referee out. KO then hits Drew with the Stunner followed by a Powerbomb. KO goes for the pin but Drew kicks out at 2.. Not that the referee was up anyway. KO climbs the turnbuckle and goes for a frog splash. Drew rolls out of the way and connects with a second claymore as the referee gets to his feet. Drew goes for the pin but KO kicks out at 2 and a half. Drew hits the ground in frustration, confused how it wasnt a 3. Drew lifts KO up for a Futureshock when KO reverses into a stunner. KO then lifts Drew up but his knee gives out and Drew lands in front of him connecting with a Glasgow Kiss followed by a Futureshock DDT going for the pin. KO kicks out at 2 and 3/4 and Drew goes absolutely crazy dropping back into the corner and connecting with another Claymore. Drew isn't done as he drops into the corner a second time hitting yet another Claymore. Drew doesn't care as he drops into the corner for a third time and begins counting down from 3. KO gets to his feet and hits a pop up powerbomb out of nowhere going for the pin. 2 masked men jump the barricade with “3MB” shirts on and pull the referee out of the ring. KO gets the 3 before he realizes the referee is gone. The 2 men remove their masks and climb onto the apron on both sides, thus revealing themselves to be Heath Slater and Jinder Mahal! The crowd pops as Drew’s buddies enter the ring and go after KO. At first KO does alright but then the Numbers Game catches up to him when Drew gets involved. Drew drops into the corner and begins counting down from 3 as Jinder and Heath force the referee up and toss him into the ring. Drew connects with the Claymore for a 6th time in this match going for the pin. This time Kevin cannot answer the 3 count! Jinder and Heath join Drew in the ring as 3MB celebrate together!
This match takes 20 minutes (Show Finish)

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/gafs-5-16-24-cwKQiz5
Looking to part with some extras that can hopefully find new homes.
Dibs in comments = agree to posted $price$.
Otherwise comment your question or that you're PMing about an item and I'll answer as quickly as possible.
Holosun 510C red dot - low salt, some minor scuffs/scratches on housing and wear on mount where contacted rail. Multi-reticle red dot. Functions as new. Has seen 400-500 rounds. Still have box and original packaging. Asking $200 shipped
Larue MBT-2S curved trigger - installed and function tested ~30 rounds. Sat in safe and no longer need. No longer have original packaging. Pins with minor wear as pictured. Asking $85 shipped.
Streamlight ProTac HL-X 1,000 lumens weapon mounted light - Minor salt. Has seen ~300 rounds of use. Lens still in good shape. Comes with click button tail cap and original mount. Asking $130 for set up as pictured (Cloud Defensive LCS tape switch mount, Arisaka 45 Mlok offest and light). If split will do:
Protac HLX - $90
Arisaka mounts - $30 each Offset Scout Mount Picatinny
Cloud defensive LCS - $25
Faxon Nitride M16 BCG 5.56/300 BLK - Brand New in packaging. Had as back up and no longer need. I think they go for ~ $130 new. Asking $100
CHPWS plate adaptor for mounting 509t to Sig. SGX-R1P-509T. Mounted then removed. I had on a p320 optics ready slide. Not sure of compatibility with other Sigs. $25 obo
DM me so we can exchange payment/shipment information. I can do Zelle, PayPal or Venmo. If using PayPal, no comments and buyer pays G&S fee if not using F&F.
Items will most likely be shipped day after funds received.

LED vanity lights have become a staple in modern homes and commercial spaces, known for their energy efficiency, bright illumination, and sleek designs. However, like any technology, they have advantages and disadvantages. In this comprehensive, we'll delve into the pros and cons of LED vanity lights, helping you decide whether they are the right choice for your lighting needs.
https://ledmyplace.ca/collections/vanity-lights

Pros of LED Vanity Lights

1. Energy Efficiency

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1. Longevity

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Cons of LED Vanity Lights

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1. Sensitivity to Temperature

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1. Limited Light Spread

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Conclusion

LED vanity lights offer many benefits, including energy efficiency, longevity, bright and uniform illumination, and customizable lighting options. They are eco-friendly and versatile, making them popular for modern homes and commercial spaces. However, it's essential to consider the initial cost, dimming compatibility, light quality variation, potential for glare, disposal concerns, temperature sensitivity, and light spread limitations when deciding if LED vanity lights are the right choice for your needs.
By weighing the pros and cons, you can make an informed decision that aligns with your aesthetic preferences, functional requirements, and environmental values. As LED technology advances, the future of vanity lighting looks bright, promising even more innovative and efficient solutions to illuminate our lives.

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
Deep in the groaning halls of sinew and bone he awaited his audience with the god. At a wave of his hand the ribs which held up the ceiling contracted, tendons shifting within the pink walls of the chamber as the jagged, calcareous spurs that composed the doorway sank back into the spongy masses of tissue, revealing a passage curving down and out of sight.
Menash stood before the yawning portal and considered eternity. This was no an idle thought: here in the Dawning Chamber, the concept was very real. His father, Yulan, had stood in this exact spot times beyond count. When he was struck down in his prime by the Night Weaver and her Leaper offspring, torn limb from limb as he fought to defend Chthonis from a raiding party, Menash’s uncle, Aqavarr, had carried his broken remains over that grinning threshold to join the hosts of the dead, never to return.
A hot and heavy exhalation rattled up out of the depths, wafting in the acrid scent of the bonding pools and the wet slithering sound of the rebirthing canals. Menash felt a crackle of static in the corners of his mind before the signal sharpened and he heard It whisper distinctly:
“Enter…”
The familiar dread crept its way up the small of his back, and he gave a little shiver. No matter how many times he had communed with the Vitalus, he’d never been able to shake the feeling of his utter insignificance. But he persevered, walking bravely down the slurping passage, past the rows of broad antechambers lining either side of the hallway. Each one held a slumbering shape immersed in a cryogenic bath, towering hulks of muscle encased in ribbed and riveted plates of chitin. No two were alike in size or physiology, but all seemed to emanate the same primeval aura of dread that tickled Menash’s fight-or-flight-instinct, skewing it very much towards the latter response. These were the Hollowores, soulless avatars of the Vitalus, each one a tool capable of eradicating an entire species. As Menash approached, one of the living weapons stirred to life. A pronged, anvil-shaped head emerged from the bath, umbilical feeder tubes detaching from its armored flanks as the rest of its bulk followed, its mauve exoskeleton as sleek and shiny as amethyst. The Hollowore extended legs as thick as grown pine trees and lifted itself above him, its pairs of crushing pincers dripping amniotic fluids as it herded him towards the central room.
Bundles of white gossamer filaments spread all across the floor, encircling steaming pools of pus and acid. He saw arms and legs, sensory organs and entire exoskeletons being knitted before his very eyes, the amino acid chains being stitched on a layer at a time, the weeping pus evidence of microphages fighting off possible infections as the Vitalus did Its work.
These were the next generation of exomorphs, yet to be assigned to their hosts. It was here that Vitalus constantly improved the only thing that could ensure the continued survival of Menash’s subspecies. Exomorphs were bonded to Gallivants at birth, the organisms supplying their hosts with the means to breathe an atmosphere they was never meant to endure, and the strength to fight in a world that was red in tooth and claw. They were as swift as the summer wind and could multiply their host’s muscular power by up to twelve times their natural output.
But for all their God-given might, Gallivants were still mortal. They could and often did perish in the endless struggle for existence that the Vitalus called the Great Game. But even in death they could still commit their essence to posterity, passing down their defining traits through the malleable genetic code of the gilt helix. It was the Vitalus’ greatest boon; through the gilt helix a single individual could become a progenitor of an entire generation, becoming at one stroke the father of whole nations and peoples.
One day he too would prove worthy of the honor that Yulan had earned with his life. But he was not alone in that ambition. Menash was annoyed to find the crimson-clad Vezda and the cowardly Racek waiting for him inside, standing next to a large ball of filaments that hung from a tonsil-like growth hanging from the walls.
This node pulsed, emitting a small storm of bioelectric activity, networks of fungi conveying commands in the form of oscillating voltages to their communities of symbiotic bacteria, the latter containing greigite mineral crystals aligned in the shape of electromagnetic coils. Other networks hidden in the walls modulated and amplified the signals, and the three Gallivants steeled themselves for the onrushing flood of information as the Vitalus tapped into their minds.
He was a candle before the raging heart of the thunderstorm. For an instant Menash touched a fraction of Its intelligence, the divisions of time and space rolling back as they joined the ocean of shared consciousness, becoming one with the living systems of Arachnea. From the tiniest aeroplankton floating above the waves of the golden coastlines, to the herds of ultrapods munching their way through swathes of trees in the savannahs. Menash felt himself pushing up out of the soil, longing and lusting and reaching for the sunlight with a trillion green fingers uncurling, alive with the furious movement of life.
But what was that flicker of orange to the east? That searing heat, that prickling pain spreading like a cancer down his side?
The Vitalus scooped them up and hurled them headlong into hell itself. A roaring wildfire was sweeping into the heart of the eastern rainforests. Menash tasted ash and ruin, felt pieces of himself wither and burn, his branches tongues of fire, wood cracking from the intense blaze, sap boiling instantaneously upon contact and rupturing, splitting him right down the grain. He fled in terror, running, slithering, digging, swimming, flying away in crazed panic from the walls of red death closing in on him. As his skin flaked off in clumps of charcoal he looked back and saw it towering over the treetops, the epicenter of this howling vortex of destruction: the grey behemoth. Its burnished metal hide gleamed like copper, reflecting the fury of the conflagration burning well into the night.
Menash pulled his mind away before it was lost forever in the storm of electric potentials. He saw Racek and Vezda swaying on their feet, breathing hard and fast.
“Heart of the World,” he managed to gasp, “What is your bidding?”
The Hollowore maneuvered itself until it was facing him directly. Tiny beady eyes fixed him in their blank gaze. The node emitted a blue pulse and the creature shuddered as it received the signal. It opened a maw powerful enough to chew boulders into gravel and rumbled:
“This one is the alpha which survived first contact with anomalous variable. It will tell Us what occurred, and from whence this threat emerged.”
“It came from the karst mountain range, where the yellowjacket Amit live,” Menash replied, “It was destroying the largest mound in that area, massacring its inhabitants. It brought the mountain down on them—we’ve never seen anything like it. Zildiz was the first on the scene. She warned us not to approach, and that it was dangerous, but some of us,” here he cast an angry look at Vezda, “Some of us went ahead and tried to scavenge from the bodies of the dying. Then the behemoth ignited the air and burned scores of us to cinders.”
“Irrational. Why did you do this?”
“W-we thought that you had spawned the grey behemoth,” Menash stammered, embarrassed to say the least, “That it was the newest addition to the Great Game, another species of ultrafauna that would help perfect Arachnea.”
“Not so. It was made by an evil far older than the All-In-One,” replied the Vitalus, “It is called a Divine Engine. In cycles past, this evil sought to undo this world and all that inhabit it. In that, it almost succeeded.”
Menash felt his blood run cold at those words.
“Is it the only one of its kind?” Racek piped up. Menash and Vezda both bristled at his interruption; subordinates were only supposed to speak when spoken to.
“There were several deployed here in Our infancy. We had thought them all destroyed in the War of Creation.”
“Your Munificence,” Racek went on, heedless of the venomous looks he was getting from the other two, “Most of us survived because Zildiz persuaded us to dive into the river. She saved all our lives! But as I washed up on the riverbank, I saw the behemoth casting a seedpod into the skies. I did not see where it landed, but it was travelling in a high arc due east. Is this the behemoth’s method of reproducing? If so, then how many offspring can it generate from this one seed?”
The Vitalus met his questions with a minute of silence. Menash had never known It to take so long to respond to a query, and felt another stab of unease in his gut. Unless he was imagining things, the Vitalus seemed genuinely disturbed by the scenario that Racek has raised, enough to convince Menash that the danger was far from hypothetical.
“That is a distant possibility,” It said somewhat cryptically, “Regardless, We cannot allow the Engine’s continued existence.”
“Then it must be destroyed,” Vezda said, her barbed tail eagerly perking up.
“We are not certain that it can be,” the Vitalus said, and Menash heard Racek audibly gulp at the admission.
“But Your Omniscience, you alone are the arbiter of growth and decay,” Vezda said in disbelief, “Surely you can unmake this monster as well?”
“Perhaps. The Divine Engines were built to withstand the extremes of temperature, gravity, atmospheric pressure, acidity and irradiation found on semi-inhabitable exoplanets. Worlds of bareness and desolation, glassed by thermonuclear bombardment or infested with alien microorganisms. In the wars of Our youth, the Betrayers used tungsten-alloy warheads fired from space platforms to crack their bulkheads. Not even Our vessels, the Hollowores, could damage them in any significant way. We will need time to gather the raw materials and fabricate the weapons needed to end this threat.”
“What must we do?” Menash asked.
“If this variable is not dealt with, it could upset the delicate balance We have sacrificed so much to achieve. Already the wildfire it has caused will release close to 400 million metric tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere and destroy 2.3 million acres of forest before Our countermeasures can stop it. Time is our limiting factor. If the Engine cannot be destroyed now, it must be restrained.”
“It hasn’t moved an inch since we last saw it,” Vezda said brightly, “Maybe it has already died?”
“Yes, and maybe your mother was a horka toad,” Racek said snidely. Vezda scowled and took a step towards him, then stopped as she remembered that she trod on hallowed ground.
“Not so. It has merely gone dormant. Having expended its fuel, it is now running on the bare minimum of its reserves. My children, you must ensure that it does not wake again. Establish a quarantine zone around the Engine and let none approach, on pain of death. The Leaper kindreds will secure the ground while the Gallivants patrol the skies.”
Vezda and Menash exchanged troubled looks. Nobody wanted Leapers establishing a foothold in what was essentially a buffer zone between their subspecies. Once allowed to settle in a habitat, it would not take long for them to adapt and become masters of their new territory. Ousting them would become a battle of attrition, and given the lower birthrates of Gallivants, it was not one they could long afford.
“Respectfully, we do not require assistance from our brother kindred,” Menash ventured, “We are more than capable of safeguarding the area ourselves.”
The node throbbed again, the bioelectric flashes taking on an angry purple hue. With a sound like the grinding of a millstone the Hollowore clashed its claws together impatiently. All three of the mortals took a hasty step back.
“The alpha will obey, or another will be found that can,” the Vitalus growled at them, “All subspecies will observe a general truce during this period. This is a temporary addition to the Great Game. Those that serve Us well shall be rewarded. We shall also enlist the aid of your terrestrial cousins, as well as the Cataphract clans to replenish the soil, and lone Saints who shall rove beyond the quarantine zone.”
Menash’s unease deepened. The Vitalus was bringing together four different kindreds, some of which killed each other on sight, in a move that reeked of desperation. The kindreds had worked together before, of course, on complex projects such as altering rainfall patterns and husbanding struggling species, but never so many at once. This was bound to end in bloodshed.
“Those that break the truce shall be chemically neutered, and their gilt helix purged from the existing gene pool,” the Vitalus continued, “You will maintain this quarantine until We have dealt with the Engine.”
“It is understood!” Menash and Vezda said at once.
“But what about Zildiz?” Racek blurted out, again risking his entire lineage by speaking out of turn, “She might still be alive out there!”
“He’s right,” Menash found himself agreeing despite his dislike for Racek, “She’s our alpha, after all. It would be a shame to lose her helix. Do we have your leave to send out a party to recover her?”
The Vitalus pondered the request for a moment, then crushed his hopes when it said:
“Regrettable, the loss of the female. Valuable stock for the breeding program. But it has not responded to Our signals—it is unlikely to have survived. The female Vezda shall take up its duties as alpha.”
“But Your Benevolence—” both men cried out in unison.
“It is decided. She has risked the Great Game, and must abide by its outcome. To speak more on this would risk Our displeasure,” the god warned.
“We can’t spare the manpower anyway,” Vezda pointed out, trying not to look too pleased at Its decision. She darted a quick look at Menash, long enough for him to see the selfish desire festering in her heart. He turned away from her in disgust, baring his blades by the slightest of margins to let her know what he thought of her, then asked the Vitalus:
“But what of the Engine’s seedpod? Should we search for it?”
“Negative!” the Vitalus boomed, its node reinforcing the word with a spike of activity that sent needles of pain spearing into their heads, “We shall complete this task. It is dangerous and can be entrusted to no other.”
The Hollowore angled its massive head towards the cavernous ceiling, armored flaps on its back sliding aside as it unfurled sets of rigid sixty-meter wings. A wide sphincter on the roof gaped open and Menash saw the evening sky awash with the stars in their milky multitudes. The Hollowore took a deep breath through the spiracles lining its thorax and abdomen, pumping air through a pair of hollow tube-like protuberances under either of its wings. Menash and the others quickly scampered to a safe distance. Seconds later there was a scream of chemical combustion and the Hollowore rose into the evening skies, leaving behind a long trail of superheated gases, the backwash almost knocking Menash off his feet. They watched as the Hollowore gained altitude, making straight for the columns of billowing smoke on the horizon, a sweeping shadow blotting out the light of the heavens.
The Vitalus’ mental presence receded with it. When it did not return, they took it to mean that they were dismissed and likewise took flight and headed for Chthonis. They were hardly out of the Dawning Chamber when Vezda seized the scrawny Racek by his wings and anchored her feet right up against his back.
“Funny little man, are you? Crack jokes at my expense again, and I’ll see to it that you’ll never fly again!” she snarled, yanking hard. Racek yelled as his wings threatened to pop out of their sockets.
“Stop!” Menash said, ramming his shoulder into her and knocking the smaller male out of her grip. Vezda rounded on him, blades out and her tail aquiver with rage.
“As for you! No one should speak to the Vitalus like that!” she shrieked, “Much less gainsay It! Are you trying to get us all killed? It is the source and continuance of life itself—”
“But the Vitalus doesn’t always consider the individual scale of things,” Menash reasoned, controlling his rising anger as he tried to defuse the situation, “Its scope of thought is beyond ours. Therefore it is up to us to look after each other. None of us can win the Great Game alone. We need people like Zildiz for the species to prosper.”
“Your logic is flawed,” Vezda spat, “Empathy is a sham devised by the selfish action of the gene, which seeks only to preserve itself. At least I am honest enough to look after my own interests. Your obsession with that whore is misplaced. Heed my words, Menash. What happened today marks a change in the Great Game. Only the ruthless will reap the rewards of this era. Think on that, and act accordingly.”
The female darted off in another direction, leaving the two behind.
“Thanks,” Racek said, rubbing at his sore shoulders, “My, my. She’s really taking her promotion very seriously, isn’t she?”
“This doesn’t make us friends,” Menash said shortly, “We share a common interest, that’s all.”
The two flew together in silence for a time, the dark canopy unrolling below their feet. Racek had always been a bitter rival for Zildiz’s affections. In the mating seasons he and Menash had flown the damsel-dance against each other countless times, racing and dogfighting at top speed through the dense bamboo thickets in an effort to impress her.
But each time she had always chosen Menash. Naturally. He was the stronger, the braver, the son of the Scourge who had slain hundreds on his lightning raids into Leaper territory. Their pairings had been brief and passionate, yet she had always laughed at the end and gone on her merry way, a rose petal borne on a scented breeze, the dalliance as meaningless to her as other concerns like eating or breathing.
But not to him. Right now, all that mattered was her. And Racek was the only one in the whole wide world who knew exactly how he felt. Did that mean he could be trusted? Menash considered the enormity of what he was about to do, and wavered. Then he saw her face in the darkness of his home, the face she wore when they were all alone together, and he took a deep breath before breaking the silence, saying:
“I’ll be in charge of the quarantine. I can arrange for you to disappear for a few days. I can have one of the younglings mimic your magnetosynaptic signal, make it seem like you’re with the rest of us.”
“You’d do that? For me?” Racek said in astonishment.
“Hah. Not for you,” Menash laughed softly. He looked Racek straight in the eyes and continued: “What’ll it be, then?”
If he so much as hesitates, I’ll have to kill him here and now, Menash told himself.
“Why, yes. Yes, of course!” the little brown male said vigorously.
“Good,” Menash sighed with relief, “She’ll be very grateful to whoever brings her home. I’d do it myself, but as an alpha I can’t risk being seen as disobedient.”
“Then why give me this chance? After all that’s passed between us?”
“I should have thought that was obvious,” Menash replied. Racek digested that for a bit, then out of nowhere said:
“If I find her—when I find her—I’ll tell her exactly who it was that sent me.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Bah! Just so we’re even, that’s all,” Racek grinned, his mouthparts slanting askew.
“Thanks, I guess. I’d…I’d appreciate that. You do understand what we’re risking here, right?”
“Sure. We’ll be total genetic write-offs if we’re caught. But it’s not like I wanted to see tiny ugly Raceks running around the house anyway. What about you, though? Why are you putting your neck on the chopping block?”
“You know why,” Menash said quietly, his thoughts still lingering on her face.
“Yes,” Racek agreed with a wistful air, “Yes, I suppose I do.”
And the pair spoke no more until they reached Chthonis.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
The Colonel’s tent was leaking again. Ordinarily such a mistake would’ve earned his adjutant an hour-long dressing down and possibly, if the Colonel was feeling particularly enthusiastic, a sharp backhanded slap across the face. After all, a leaky tent could hardly be said to be hermetically sealed, now could it? But this affront to his sensibilities paled in comparison to the utter travesty and exemplar of sheer incompetence that now sat before his desk, a sagging wreck of a man in the tattered uniform of a Fleet officer. Colonel Moch Leelan curled his lip at it and barked:
“Once more, if you please. And I don’t want this on record,” he added, darting a look at the clerk poised to take dictation in the corner of the room, “Not a word of this gets out. There’s been enough of a snafu already, and the brass won’t stop shitting down my neck about Mound 13 and the loss of Prota’s pestilential pet project. Did you hear me, man? I said start from the beginning!”
Outside the monsoon was intensifying into one of those proverbial downpours which prompted doddering old men to remark that it was ‘raining cats and dogs’, though what either a cat or a dog were, none could now say. A trickle of it seeped in like a string of winking glass beads, catching the orange glow of the gas lamp and turning into sparks of amber, into seeds of flame. They dripped on the bald man seated on the low footstool, and he raised his head to meet the scornful gaze of the Colonel, grey eyes unabashed and unafraid. He spoke then, in a hoarse voice that matched his pallid flesh and buzzard nose:
“It was the third day of reconnaissance. We were forced to abandon our pack-beasts in the mire. My assistant and I—”
“Name, rank and serial number!” Colonel Leelan interrupted, for the sole purpose of seeing the coward blink and quaver like the worm he was. But in that he was to be disappointed, for the man continued in the same flat tone:
“Sollem Deschane, Lord Navigator, 3^rd Pathfinder Regiment, serial number 18911944. We received orders from the Admiralty and Fleet Command to reconnoiter the area around the enemy concentration designated as Mound Euler. I was to lead a platoon of twenty handpicked volunteers across the river Foss at its lowest point, then scale the outlying cliffs to get better readings as we mapped out the approaches to Mound Euler. It was the third day of reconnaissance. We were forced to abandon our myropods in the mud and carry our own gear. My assistant navigator Rene Louvoture and I noticed a discrepancy with our visually confirmed data and the aerial sketches of the Aeronautical Division. We quickly worked out that the enemy concentration far exceeded initial estimates by an order of magnitude. Mound Euler is an omega-class colony the likes of which the Fleet has faced only once in its entire existence, during the Scouring of Assail. It is my belief that—”
“Leave your hysterics for later and get on to meat of things,” Leelan snapped. Deschane straightened a bit in his seat and scowled as his layers of bandages shifted. The man was practically mummified by the sheer extent of his wounds that it was a wonder he had managed to limp into the tent in the first place. But the navigator had made a point of refusing to be debriefed in his sick bed and had insisted that he be given no further pain killers. This was to prove that his report was not at all influenced by the effects of opiates, as well as to underline the supposed importance of his eyewitness account as the sole survivor of the siege of Mound 13.
But Colonel Leelan was no fool. He knew the tactic for what it was: a bit of playacting by a soon-to-be-disgraced officer, a desperate attempt to pass himself off as a tragic hero rather than the author of the most monumental military cock-up of the decade.
You may very well get that wish, Deschane, Leelan smirked inwardly. If you play your cards right. You’ll find that I can put on a pantomime as well as the next man.
Deschane regarded him cooly, replying:
“You asked for my report, sir. I am stating the facts as I understand them.”
“Understand?” Leelan guffawed, “There’s precious little to understand about this debacle! Explain to me how a routine scouting mission winds up in the loss of 5,000 men, a Rear-Admiral and an entire frontline outpost! Explain to me how you not only got every last one of your own men slaughtered, but still managed to save your own sorry arse!”
Now that had an effect on the navigator’s bearing. He dropped the holier-than-thou attitude and even pretended to dab at some moisture in corners of his eye. For a moment his mask of iron cracked and he looked tired enough to sleep for a thousand years, never to waken. Then he seemed to recall that his career was at stake and had the temerity to argue with the Colonel:
“We were given faulty intelligence. I made mistakes, I’ll admit that here and now. We should never have continued after our pack animals were trapped in the mire. The gear slowed us down in enemy territory. I can’t wash my hands of the loss of my platoon. They were the best and bravest men I ever fought with, and I will carry the shame of losing them to my grave. The fact that I am still alive when none of them are breathing is an accident that was not of my choosing. As for Mound 13, it was only a matter of time before they were discovered and dealt with. They were only two day’s travel from Mound Euler. In fact, it was miracle they managed to exist for so long undetected.”
Magnificent deflection. Colonel Leelan had to admire the snake and his flawless attempt to pass the blame onto the shoulders of the dead Rear-Admiral Prota.
Yes, I think we can make an arrangement here, the Colonel thought wryly. He waved Deschane’s prattling aside and said:
“This omega-class colony of yours. A mound so large that is beggars belief, you say? Curious, then, that such an object should have escaped your keen senses for three whole days!”
“Visibility in that terrain and climate is poor. But yes, it was another one of my errors.”
“I’m so glad that you agree,” Leelan purred, his words dripping with condescension. He reached into the drawer of his desk and took out a bottle of fermented honeydew. Uncorking it with a loud pop, he poured out two glasses and lifted one to his lips, saying:
“On a related note, it’s funny how the fog of war can obscure so many important details. Even the best commanders can lose their bearings, lose sight of the greater picture, fixate on the wrong things. Take our dearly departed Rear-Admiral Prota, for example (may she rest in the Flight Eternal). Not to speak ill of the dead, but she was assigned an entire sector for her research into enemy behavior. And what does she do with it? Cultural studies! Anthropology! As if the Amits have a culture worth sneezing at! They’ve been working with flint and wood since this primeval war of ours began, and they’ve never taken the hint. Meanwhile, we’ve finally gained the advantage of powder and artillery and mass-produceable gas masks.”
“One big push! That’s all it would take to clear the northern highlands. We have the men, the will and the technology to do it! The last thing we need is some starry-eyed academic telling us that the Amits have somehow found religion. I mean, really!” Colonel Leelan warmed to his subject, “Five thousand soldiers dedicated to safeguarding some blessed cave paintings, right on the frontlines, too! What a waste. Like you said: if you hadn’t led the Amits directly to them, someone else would have down the line.”
“We took steps to ensure they wouldn’t follow us. We tried, but they found the fear-death pheromones—”
“Steps?” Leelan pressed him mercilessly, “What steps, exactly?”
Deschane looked away and said nothing. Leelan sniffed, continuing:
“I thought so. As I was saying, Prota’s project was doomed from the start. It was an ill-conceived, harebrained mission, and now the Admiralty will have to explain to Fleet Command and the general public how it lost an entire regiment in the name of some woman’s flight of fancy. But there is a silver lining to all this. Seeing as how we recaptured what was left of Mound 13 within mere hours of it falling, we think there’s a way to salvage the situation after all. You can be part of that, Deschane. Every victory may have its price, but it must also have its heroes.”
Leelan sipped his honeydew, waiting for the offer he’d made to sink in. Deschane smiled, a humorless crack in his granite features.
“You’re going to make me a hero?” he asked. Leelan nudged the other glass towards him, shrugging:
“And why not? Someone has to wear the medals. ‘Lone Survivor of Desperate Last Stand’,” Leelan exclaimed, dramatically forecasting the future headlines, “He tried to warn them, but did they listen? You get the rest, I imagine. We’ll have to improve some of the details, of course. Like how it was the 3^rd Pathfinder Regiment which held back the flood of Amits in the final hour and ignited the fortress’ ammo depot—”
“We never did that,” Deschane objected, rudely cutting off Leelan’s train of thought, “It was the Divine Engine. I saw it with my own eyes. It broke out of Mound 13 and slaughtered the enemy.”
Leelan sighed.
“Not this again. Deschane, I’d appreciate it if you’d save your hallucinations for the regimental shrink. Think, man! The honor of our unit is at stake here. You have a chance to redeem the men of your platoon, even if you can never truly redeem yourself.”
“I saw it,” Deschane growled, and for a moment Leelan almost reached for his ceremonial saber hanging by its belt on his coatrack, “Sir, it left footprints the size of—”
“For heaven’s sake, you witless worm, the earthquake was felt all the way in the Southern Delta! Not very big one, but certainly enough to account for the avalanches and landslides that took place around Mound 13, not to mention the sinkhole we found you snoring in! It’s certainly not the first time an uncontrolled detonation triggered a seismic event. Deschane, I’ll only say this once: either you get your story straight or by thunder, I’ll bury you so deep in shit you’ll start to think you’re made of it! And you are! If you breathe a word of this delirious vision of yours to the press, you’ll not only receive no medals, but I’ll have you court-martialed faster than you can say ‘diddly-squat’. Which is precisely what you’ll be left with unless you jump like a good boy and ask how high. No honor, no rank, no reputation, no pension. Nothing! Do you understand?”
Colonel Leelan wrathfully thrust the glass at Deschane, spilling most of it in the process.
“Well, do you?”


Deschane hobbled out of the tent, escorted by a pair of grenadiers in fluffy white shakos. They sealed the adhesive lining of the tent airlock after him and the Navigator went on his way, the taste of honeydew lingering on his tongue like a bitter poison. He lifted his mask and hawked up a gob of spit that eloquently described his opinion of the colonel, wiping his scowling mouth with the back of his hand.
Ven was waiting for him with the crutches, a young and rather portly corporal with apple cheeks and a worried, pouting mouth. She helped Deschane as he made the slow and painful walk across the encampment to his field tent, the lord navigator deep in thought. Along the way they cut across the central avenue of the camp where a seemingly endless artillery train was lumbering its way up from the south and curving around the broad talus skirts of Gorgo Plateau, teams of scuttling myropods hitched to six or twelve-pounder guns, their hundreds of tiny legs threshing the soil into a quagmire. Behind them, plodding dejectedly into the rapidly liquefying mud, were ranks upon rank of fresh colonial levees, their brand-new sealant suits creaking loudly at the joints as they made what for most of them would be their first expedition into the surface world.
And what a foray it would prove to be. Almost two hundred thousand men amd women were mustered here at the edge of civilization, poised on the cusp of what was to be the largest surface offensive in recorded history. The Fleet had arrived in the Northern Hinterlands, and it had come to conquer.
"Gangway!" the levees hollered at Ven as she tried to cut a path for Deschane through the line, "Can't you see we's marching 'ere, ya stoopid bint?"
"He's an officer, ain't he?" she screamed back, pointing at the navigator.
Upon noticing the faded chevrons on Deschane's shoulders some of them clumsily snapped to attention, stopping in their tracks. Their comrades behind them, oblivious to this turn of events, bowled right into them, causing a minor stampede. Men and women cursed as they dropped their pristine muskets, never fired in the heat of battle, into the churning soup at their feet, or themselves went sprawling on their hands and knees. Baton-wielding sergeants descended on the mess, screaming for them to get back up, generously assisting them with a boot to the rump or a smack on the side of the head. Deschane looked back at the display for a long moment, as if considering something. Abruptly he grunted at Ven and they continued on their way to the outskirts where the Pathfinders were billeted.
She waited until they were inside the tent and Deschane was back in his sick bed, the navigator turning his back to her in stony silence. Cautiously, she ventured:
“What now, sir?”
“Draw up a list of volunteers,” he rasped, “But do it on the sly. We’re going back out there."
"Very good, sir," Ven squeaked, and went scurrying out of the navigator's chambers, sealing the tent flap softly behind her. She knew that tone and what it signified: the lord navigator had made up his mind, and heaven help whoever would stand in his way.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

T/W: Mentions of Suicide and Schizophrenia.
It was the year of 2022, my personal life and family issues have gotten worse, for my mother who suffers from schizophrenia and depression went back to my grandmother's place because she couldn't handle the stress that comes with taking care of a household just a month before my 12th boards were going to start.
My heart ached for her but I knew with my exans a month away and other responsibilities of the household falling back on my shoulders, I was incapable of takinh care of her mentally.
I still casually chuckle at the thought of how I skipped my history pre-boards because she was feeling sick and suicidal and had done things before when I was younger so my heart did not dare leave her alone. My little sister who was only 10 at that time was genuinely scared and worried, would cry non stop. She said "Didi, is it because of me that mumma is going to die? Am I really that bad?" My heart broke that day.
Skip to 2 months later, the results came and the best of four marks was decent but not good enough to get me a college solely on merit. But I was fine, my aim was to prepare for CLAT anyway and so I did. Took a risk, conviced my father for a drop year and prepared diligently for 3 months straight but luck was not by my side, and my health started deteriorating- stomach issues, weak immue system, anaemia, fatal cramps from periods. Every month I felt like I was on a war against myself and hence, my motivation to study collapsed.
After my results my mother was back at our place because she couldn't live with her parents anymore, she missed us and was stubborn at how she was better and would like to be back and be a mother to both of her children. And she arrived, with full enthusiasm but alas, that didn't last long and she left again . I can't blame her honestly, we live in a place where the mental institutions are pathetic and not one relative nearby who could help us. And where was my father in the whole scene? He has been posted to a different state, kilometres away from us. Visiting only once a month, it was tough handing all the responsibilities of home along with my sister.
I am grateful for my father earns well, we had a cook and a helper to do all the chores but it was still tough. I would study hours and hours, help my sister with her academics, making her lunch, dropping her to the busy, grocery shopping, going to the coaching on weekends. It took a mental toll on me.
So the dreaded moment finally came in last December, tons of mocks, revisions and practice I went to the exam centre and sat for it. Mentally convicing myself that it will be okay, no need to nervous and it would just be fine. But I don't think my thoughts really went into my head because my mind went blank the moment I read the question paper and the exam anxiety kicked in. And god, it kicked in so hard I regret to this date.
After the exam, I cried and cried and cried. I was devastated, I did my best sure but the fact I could have done better only if I was capable enough to handle my anxiety ate me alive. I still remember the look on my father's face when the results came in a week later, it was as if he didn't even expect me to do well but was still disappointed that I didn't prove him wrong.
It took me two months almost to get out from that zone of self doubt, embarassment and low motivation. I decided everything is fine, life can give me another chance right? A person as passionate as me about law obviously deserves a chance to get into my dream college and be a successful person. But man, I was wrong.
Yesterday, I gave CUET conducted by the most esteemed agency which considers how important the future of it's aspirants are /s. And to say less, it went pathetic too lmao. My english is genuinely a strength of mine so I did well in that but an hour later, when I sat for General Test with time duration of one hour, I failed to attempt even half the number of questions I was required to. It wasn't as if I didn't study enough, did not do enough mocks or got extremely nervous. Infact, it was the complete opposite this time.
Yet, luck wasn't with me this particular juncture as well. NTA, infamous for it's paper leaks, disastrous management and cancelling exams did what it is good at. I was unfortunate that my invigilators had the least amount of respect for the students. Giving the paper 5 minutes late, not knowing the instructions properly, tons of signatures in between (which I actually do not mind) and shouting in the middle of examination at a boy who sat on another desk which wasn't his designated one. In hand we had 45 minutes, which I made full use of still, it wasn't sufficient.
Came home dejected, tired with centres being 30-40 kms away, I made the mistake of counting my marks and oh lord, I haven't stopped having anxiety attacks since then. I always knew there was no use of having so much of expectations from this exam but god it hurts, it aches and it is killing me. I worked day and night for the 2 and half a months setting everything aside. Every fear, each regret and now I am at loss because of something which isn't even my fault.
They say cut off will go low, but honestly how low can it go? I am at such position where even if I ace two subjects out of three, the one I failed was the deciding factor and without it, my name will be on no college list.
Maybe it's my fault, maybe I don't work hard enough, maybe my mind is messed up or maybe, I am just a lazy person who deserves no college seat because let's be real, if I was really worthy of it, I'd have it already. This is not a blame myself or my circumstances post, I just wanted to share the emotions I have been trying to suppress for the past year. Parent's don't really get it and think I am just another average Joe. Also, nobody around me is empathetic enough to hold my hand and console me. ( Expecting it seems wrong now too )
I said my life is over because I am genuinely scarred now, and yes it has only been two exams, I deserve to move on and I'll understand the later. But two consecutive failures where I genuinely worked hard, though wasn't enough, makes me think maybe I am not meant for this. As an elder daughter someday the responsibility of the household will fall on my shoulders, but if I can't even get a college to complete my education how will I do a job and earn money?
We don't have enough money to join a private college and all the entrance exams seems too tough for my dumb mind now. Thankyou if you read till the end.

Hi folks, this is my first time posting to this forum, so I hope I'm not inadvertently breaking any of the rules here. I don't believe I will, and it is not my intent to do so. Thanks in advance for your understanding.
I live in New York, USA, and my home is directly across the street from a side road that comes to a T intersection. There is poor visibility on one side of this T intersection due to another house across from mine blocking drivers' view of the "main" road. Recently a driver was T-boned by a much larger vehicle while trying to turn onto the main road from the side road. I have been toying with the idea of installing a convex "fish-eye" mirror on a post in my front yard, similar to what some folks have at the end of their driveway, but oriented such that drivers on the two roads might have an easier time seeing each other. My question is if this mirror could expose me to any sort of liability if another accident occurs.
I have a concern that someone might claim that sunlight reflected off the mirror and affected their vision, and also that someone might try to argue that by installing the mirror I have accepted some level of responsibility for what happens at the intersection.
Any thoughts or guidance are welcome and appreciated.

I have access to Amex, US Bank, and Bank of America. Here are my thoughts:

1. Amex offers some decent offers but most are useless. For example, I got a 10% off insurance offer (capped at $20), along with 15% Internet/cable offer (can be used twice). However, the vast majority of the offers aren't for everyday spending, more like get $100 off $500 for this luxury swimsuit brand or $50 off $1000 spend for a pair of sunglasses. I'm personally a buy what I need kind of person, so most of these don't appeal to me.
   
2. Bankamerideals give nice options but are kind of a pain in the ass imo and are pretty much equivalent to a shittier version of Rakuten. I see some stuff like 2% off Home Depot, 5% off Adidas, $1 off shampoo at a grocery store. However, almost all of these require a link to use the offers, where I have activate them, then upload a receipt, or shop online in order to get the 2% off. For the most part I prefer to shop in person for the stores listed, so I'm not a big fan.
   
3. US Bank. US Bank has these "cash back offers" that usually mimic coupons, like getting 5% off at Lowe's or Five Guys or something, and they're fine. I see the same brands listed every time offers expire. HOWEVER, as a Plus tier member of US Bank (>$50k stored with them), I also get access to something called Smart Rewards. Maybe everyone with a credit card can access these, but I've been getting about 4 smart rewards offers at a time ever since I hit Plus tier, and got about 2 on average with the Primary tier ($>20k). Right now I'm getting 15% dining, 15% gas, 15% home improvement, and 10% groceries... which stacks on top of my normal earnings, giving me 19% dining, 12% groceries, and 17% gas with the Altitude Go. The cash back usually posts 2 weeks after I spend on a category and has worked flawlessly so far, I just have to activate them beforehand.
   

I've been loving US Bank the past few months, I effectively have had a 19% dining credit card for 3 months now. I got nearly $80 in one month on gas, dining, and groceries in January without even counting the credit card rewards (and I'm not a big spender, probably only about $1000 a month in non-rent expenses).
They also recently just deposited $20 in reward credit into a US Bank Cash Plus card I haven't used in a couple months for no reason. I got a personalised offer in my email to get $20 for $80 spend on that card but I never even spent $80 subsequently, so I think they have a bug in their system.
I'm not sure if other people use these offers because I don't ever hear about them. But it's goddamn badass, I love US Bank. While I recently created a Fidelity brokerage and Merrill Edge account, I don't think I'll stop using US Bank as a secondary investment platform. These merchant offers are just too good.
What are Citibank or Chase offers like, what's the best ones you've gotten? Does anyone like Bankamerideals? I've only had my Amex account for a month or so, so what other kinds of general offers does Amex give out outside of insurance and Internet?
I'm also curious about people who use Citibank Shop Your Way. I hear good things about it, but when I hear of their offers the spending requirement seems to be too high for me, like $200 back for $3000 spent in a month. Do you guys ever get offers for less spend, like $500 in a month?

From MyChamplainValley
Just two days after the Notch Road opened for the season a tractor-trailer nearly got stuck on Thursday when the driver went around the chicanes designed to prevent trucks from driving onto the narrow, twisting road.
Todd Sears, with the Agency of Transportation, says a tractor-trailer was driving up Route 108 from the Cambridge side around 11:26 a.m. when it used the left-hand lane to drive around the chicane. The truck continued up the road before using a parking area to turn around and head back toward Cambridge. Sears said there was no stuckage.
A spokesperson for the Vermont State Police says troopers reported to the scene, but the truck was gone by the time they arrived.
The Agency of Transportation installed the chicanes in April hoping they would prevent the notorious issue of tractor-trailers getting stuck in the narrow turns. Despite multiple signs telling truckers to turn back, multiple tractor-trailers will get stuck throughout the season, leading to a costly and time-consuming process to get them out. The chicane is meant to mimic the winding turns that the trucks would get stuck in if trying to pass.

Hi I recently installed a new condenser (old one damaged) , compressor (UAC) , expansion valve and orings it held vacuum, I added 15 oz of refrigerant And the compressor seems to be short cycling on/off every 5 sec. I'm getting cool air , the gauges are reading proper for ambient temps but the low side drops to 10 psi when the car is revving to 2500 , is my charge of 15 oz too little for the system or should I look elsewhere?

My mom is on Haldol to manage her bipolar I, aside from that she’s not on any other psychiatric medication. She suffers from insomnia, and her none of the medication her doctor has prescribed has helped her. She mostly sticks to anti-histamines to fall asleep, such as Benadryl.
I was prescribed mirtzapine when I was living at home, however I didn’t really like it so I accumulated a lot of bottles of the medication. I kept them around because I asked my psychiatrist if it was okay to occasionally use them as sleeping pills, on nights I have trouble sleeping and he said yes. It’s low doses, ranging from 15 mgs to 7.5. I guess my mom ran out of her usual sleeping medication and took mirtzapine last night to help her fall asleep, knowing that I use it for sleep.
Well, my mother let me know the next morning and claimed it was a miracle pill. She’s completely sold on it and told me she hasn’t had a restful night like that in years. I’m obviously worried, as it’s antidepressants above everything else. My mother doesn’t really take care of herself(I guess part of her condition/side effect from Haldol), and her psychiatrist doesn’t really take into consideration her other mental issues outside of Bipolar I and psychosis. My mother is frequently depressed and anxious, and there are a lot of things she hides from her doctor.
Part of me would feel guilty heading over today and throwing out all of my old prescriptions, as her insomnia does affect her quality of life and it’s something her doctor doesn’t seem too concern about. However, there’s the other side of the coin where I have no idea what kind of interactions this will have with her bipolar and regular medication. What should I do?

Leeds United 3 - 0 Norwich City

Leeds scorers: Ilia Gruev (7'), Joël Piroe (20'), Georginio Rutter (40')
Aggregate score: Leeds United 3-0 Norwich City
Venue: Elland Road, Leeds, England
Referee: Jarred Gillett
Leeds United:

Starting XI	Notes	Subs	Notes
Illan Meslier		Karl Darlow
Archie Gray		Liam Cooper
Joe Rodon		Charlie Cresswell
Ethan Ampadu		Connor Roberts
Junior Firpo		Jamie Shackleton
Glen Kamara		Jaidon Anthony
Ilia Gruev	7'	Daniel James
Wilfried Gnonto		Joe Gelhardt
Georginio Rutter	40'	Mateo Joseph
Crysencio Summerville
Joël Piroe	20'

Manager: Daniel Farke (Germany)
Norwich City:

Starting XI	Notes	Subs	Notes
Angus Gunn		George Long
Jack Stacey		Danny Batth
Shane Duffy		Jacob Sørensen
Ben Gibson		Kellen Fisher
Dimitrios Giannoulis		Grant Hanley
Marcelino Núñez	6'	Sam McCallum
Kenny McLean		Borja Sainz	46'
Jonathan Rowe	37'	Christian Fassnacht
Gabriel Sara		Sydney van Hooijdonk
Ashley Barnes
Josh Sargent	46'

Manager: David Wagner (United States)
MATCH EVENTS
1': We're off!
4': Summerville gets the one-two and skips through the defense and fires but puts it high from wide.
6': Marcelino Núñez comes in late on Rodon, dangerous free kick coming
7': GOAL LEEDS!! They score the free kick! Ilia Gruev finds the gap at the near side! That's awful goalkeeping by Gunn who was hours late to jump.
20': GOAL LEEDS!! Gnonto fires a long forward pass to the far post, Gunn hesitates and doesn't get there, Joël Piroe heads it in!!
22': SAVE!! Ampadu misses on an interception, leaving Sargent one on one with Meslier but Meslier comes out quickly and smothers the chance!
35': A Gruev interception launches a Leeds attack, but Gnonto's low shot is easily saved.
37': Jonathan Rowe carded for diving
40': GOAL LEEDS!! Georginio Rutter smacks it in off the underside of the post!!
43': Another break by Leeds!! Gnonto is all alone! Oh but the shot is saved, another unimpressive finish by Gnonto.
45+2': Gunn dives to put away with a cross but gives it right to Gnonto! He tries to find room to shoot but he's blocked on the line by Giannoulis!
HT Leeds United 3-0 Norwich City [3-0 on agg.] Leeds are flying, and Norwich are likely flying home.
46': Norwich substitution: Borja Sainz on for Josh Sargent
46': We're back!
46': SAVE! Leeds nearly score a fourth goal just thirty seconds after the restart, but Gunn blocks the one-on-one chance from Piroe at close range.

I have a 13 yr.o plush husky. I acquired her from a less than ideal situation 6 years ago.
I deal with all the regular upkeep, ear cleaning and nail clipping, clipping the paw pads out every 2 weeks, sanitary trims, and we usually focus 1/2 hr every day on one side and do the other the next day. She’s not the unkempt dog you get twice a year for a full groom expecting a miracle, but as her prior owner shaved her, the situation isn’t ideal either.
I take her in twice a year during blow out season as the prior shaving makes the compaction under her guard hairs absolutely awful and I can’t get it out properly. I’ve tried several rakes and blades. And I just do not do a proper job and I’m scared of bacterial infections or hot spots if I can’t get to it properly.
Here’s the low down.
She’s horrific to groom. Absolutely more so than the breed standard.
She doesn’t bite, but the donkey kicking, pulling, growling and bluffing is very intense and she takes a very very long time to groom. I tip 40-50% of pre tax cost to anyone who takes her on because I know first hand how awful it is. I’m candid about this. Sometimes she adores her groomer and is great that day and the entire bath and blow out is 40 minutes. Other times she’s been there for three hours and they call me to collect and couldn’t finish the job because of her attitude. She is so-so behaved with me when I groom her.
But how do I approach a new groomer honestly about this and hopefully not get turned down.
How would you like a client to describe the situation and what would you want to hear to likely entice you to take on the dog? I get it’s at their discretion, I’m not blaming them by any means. I just don’t want to terrify them or lie, waste time and resources and crap on their schedule for the day and then never get a proper groom.
Or should I sincerely just ask a groomer to show me how to deal with compaction from the shaving and hope I can deal with this at home for now on? Do groomers enjoy showing clients how to deal with it?
Thanks

Hi
I’m seeking recommendations for a good wireless keyboard for programming.
My budget is around $250, and I need a wireless keyboard with any sort of backlighting (White or RGB - doesn’t matter), and macros (very important to make programming faster). A plus side would be something that can support both Windows and MacOS.
Also, the number pad isn’t necessary but I would like to have function keys and the home/delete/pg up/etc. keys.
I don’t have any preference on mechanical/membrane or low profile/high profile. Just need something reliable and durable for the money.

Hey y'all, since I bought my house three years ago, a couple boards(?) of wooden siding on two sides of the attached garage have been slowly been leaking this white pebbly substance, which I presume to be some kind of insulation but I'm not sure. Initially I used super strong tape to cover the openings and hold the panels in place, and that sort of worked the first couple years, but as you can see the tape has now failed, and I'd rather go for a permanent solution this time instead of just re-taping.
I've done some basic research into siding companies/contractors in my area and am considering having them come out to give me an estimate, but I've read in various home improvement subs that most contractors will want to replace the siding of the entire structure, because they can't make much of a profit off just replacing a couple boards. I'd much prefer to not have to spend thousands on a whole home (or at least whole-garage) siding installation...
So, I'm looking for insight in to what exactly this white shit is and some suggestions for a solution here. Is this something either myself or a local handyperson could fix? Or, is this indicative of a larger issue that requires a full assessment by a siding specialist?
​
Any guidance at all is greatly, greatly appreciated!
https://preview.redd.it/4ebpu8ycyt0d1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1622dfd98282d96783cab6f11b40e07fbd0c1d7b
https://preview.redd.it/fgel9aycyt0d1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=a0414fbfca34233a550f3376665ce4de72a0d271
https://preview.redd.it/1jejsaycyt0d1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=bc84e9c79ac5a6502622dd2297f50eb24cccad60
https://preview.redd.it/qanygaycyt0d1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=d68ffbf35acc5d1d21b4777d3a8a81b37c6e4599

I know there are lots of posts about this but looking for some insight for cases similar to mine! I am 9wks2days and had it confirmed on ultrasound yesterday that it is a blighted ovum. Gestational sac is measuring ~1.2 cm and empty (measuring about 6 weeks). I've had a bit of spotting so far, and some cramps. My doctor recommended at home/expectant or medication management as my sac is quite small. However, I don't think I'm emotionally prepared to go through it at home and not interested in meds based on the side effects that I have read. They also want me to sort through my bleed to find tissue and store it, so they can do analysis (some concern it is a molar pregnancy due to ultrasound, but likely not due to low hcg). I am leaning towards a D&C and the doctor has agreed, but I'm worried as she mentioned it can be difficult for them to find such a small sac and there can be issues with dilation as I've never had a live birth.
Am I off base to proceed with the D&C with such a small sac? I have quite a bit of health anxiety and I feel more comforted with the idea of having a medical team to guide the D&C versus doing it on my own. Has anyone had a D&C with a similar size? The next appointment is in 5 days so may have to proceed with expectant management anyways.

Hi all! We need to replace our AC system and we received the following quotes for AC and Heat Pump options. We are interested in the heat pump options, but this would be our first experience with them. I would appreciate any input on the equipment or scope of work provided by these companies. It is worth noting that Quote #3 is eligible for 0% financing for up to $15k through our utility company. The other quotes are eligible for financing but not at 0%. The third vendor did also include an option to remove the fiberboard ducts.
Quote #1 - $12,500

• Replacement Overhead A/C Agreement.
• Remove & Dispose of existing Bryant 3.5 -ton AC equipment.
• Furnish and install new Trane condensers Mod# 4TTR5042N 15 SEER Rating
• Furnish and install new Trane 2 piece air handler Mod# TAMXB0C42V
• New line set, slim duct to cover line set
• new condenser pad.
• New systems will be installed and transitioned to existing air duct system.
• New emergency drain pan with automatic shut off switch,
• New outside disconnect with whip.
• All wiring installed to code.
• One-year warranty on all workmanship
• Ten-year manufactures warranty on A/C compressor and all other a/c components.
• Customer is aware that we need a clear access and all work areas to be clear of articles to ensure a proper safe installation.
• This Installation will be installed by a COMPANY #1 Licensed Contractor.
• Optional Additional cost to install Trane Clean Effects $1,500
• **Note: Cost of permits will be billed separate over & above the agreement.

Quote #2 - $14,500

• Replacement Overhead A/C Agreement with Heat Pump
• Remove & Dispose of existing Bryant 3.5 -ton AC equipment.
• Furnish and install new Trane Heat Pump condensers Mod# 4TWR5042N 15 SEER Rating
• Furnish and install new Trane 2 piece air handler Mod# TAMXB0C42V
• new line set, slim duct to cover line set
• new condenser pad.
• New systems will be installed and transitioned to existing air duct system.
• New emergency drain pan with automatic shut off switch,
• New outside disconnect with whip.
• All wiring installed to code.
• Square D breaker to be changed from 30 to 40 amp.
• New heat pump thermostat and new thermostat wire to be installed.
• One-year warranty on all workmanship,
• Ten-year manufactures warranty on A/C compressor and all other a/c components.
• Customer is aware that we need a clear access and all work areas to be clear of articles to ensure a proper safe installation.
• This Installation will be installed by a COMPANY #1 Energy Approved Licensed Contractor.
• Optional - Additional cost to install Trane Clean Effects $1,500
• **Note: Cost of permits will be billed separate over & above the agreement.

Quote #3 - $18,000 - $1,000 JCPL AC Rebate = $17,000

• Scope of Work: Remove and recycle existing air handler and condensing unit.
• Equipment to be installed:
  • BOSCH heat pump - BOVB-60HDN1-M20 - AHRI #: 207658523, 18.5 SEER2, 12.0 EER2, 9.5 HSPF2 One () BOSCH heat pump, up to 19 SEER, 5 ton, 208/230V, R410A
  • BOSCH air handler - BVA-48WN1-M20 - 4 ton, 208/230V, R410A
  • BOSCH electric heater - EHK-05B
• Install new air handler in the attic set in a new emergency drain pan.
• New drain pan will feature a float switch for worry free condensate drainage and vibration isolators for quiet system operation.
• Field fabricate transitional duct fittings to connect new equipment to existing duct system as needed.
• Alter and reconnect to existing condensate drain with new PVC trap and clean out.
• Alter and reconnect to existing line and low-voltage electric circuits
• Alter and reconnect existing refrigerant piping, low-voltage control wire, and emergency condensate drain as needed at new indoor equipment and new heat pump set in same location on a new vibration isolation/sow elevation pad.
• Install new main condensate drain from new air handler to exterior side of house new new heat pump.
• Install one new dedicated 220 volt, 30 amp circuit from existing electric panel to new electric strip heater in air handler in attic.
• Install one new HONEYWELL 8000 digital/programmable thermostat.
• Leak check, evacuate, and charge refrigerant system. Start up and test system operation.

Quote #3 optional

• Optional Ductwork replacement ($5,500)
• Remove and recycle all fiberboard main supply duct trunks in attic.
• Install new galvanized metal main supply air trunk in same location of attic.
• Galvanized metal main supply trunk will be wrapped in REFLECTIX R.8 non-fiberglass duct insulation.
• Alter and reconnect to existing flexible supply air duct branches with new branch take-offs featuring manually adjustable volume dampers for efficient system balancing.

I've just started a new game. I'm playing as a breton mage - mostly good-ish, but with a dark side and a kind of skyrim-style gothic glam appearance.
I'm after a darker themed player home to suit the asthetic. One that's not dingy and gory all over, and that's not a hut or an absolutely massive place with a hundred loading screens between each section (like raven castle and co).
Ideally, I'd like something that can take me into mid/late game. So would be nice to have accommodations to fit a future spouse and preferably has at least a couple of follower beds.
PREFERABLY INCLUDES: - Display room for weapons, armour and unique items (I'm a bit of a collector) - Not cutesy in appearance - Not underground (as in cave, unless really spectacular) - Preferably a dedicated alchemy and enchanting area. - Doesn't have to be mage themed even though I'm playing a mage.
Also, I'm on xbox AE so I've got Bloodchill Manor, but reallllly don't like the location. And have lived there in a previous playthrough for ages.
I also have Moddor's Manor installed just because I love it, even though it doesn't suit the asthetic I'm going for.
If anyone has any recommendations that would be great! Thank 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?