Arms aching

My hands are trembling to the point where I've had to restart this several times. I'm a guy who doesn't scare easily, but this encounter has me shaking like a hit dog. I'm still sitting in my work truck, trying to work up the courage to step outside again. Worse, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my boss what happened. I was already on thin ice with him, and this shit might cause me to break through to the freezing water below.
But fuck it, because this was weird.
I install cable for a living. I didn't have dreams of stringing cable when I was a little kid, but my previous life choices left me with few options. In high school, I fell in with the wrong crowd. It started with skipping school, sneaking alcohol at weekend parties, and some petty theft, but it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, I dropped out and dedicated my life to committing robberies to pay for my pill addiction. I wasn't living as much as I was running on a treadmill. I did whatever I could to stay on my feet but constantly felt myself slipping.
My bottom came when I was jumped by two guys who sold me pills. I had bought from them before and trusted them, but the feeling was not mutual. Someone had dimed a buddy of theirs out to the police, and he was looking at real jail time. They assumed it was me and beat me senseless.
I was greeted at the door with a punch to the jaw that sent me reeling. My brain, already addled and slowed by Oxi, was in the middle of putting together what was happening when the next punch caught me in the temple. I collapsed to the ground and covered my neck and face as best as I could. The next few minutes were a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps. When it was all over, I had a broken jaw, a shattered wrist, several wounds that required fifty total stitches, and a concussion.
That's how I kicked my painkiller addiction.
I can joke now, but the next six months were the hardest in my life. The withdrawals I had were the worst thing I've ever experienced. Having them while I was recuperating from my injuries was a circle of hell I didn't think existed. I wanted to die most days and felt lost in the darkness. But sobriety was the beacon on the horizon. Even during my darkest moments, I could still see the fuzzy spark of white light off in the distance. It kept me going. Six months from my beat-down day, I came out the other side healthier but weaker.
I needed a job but had limited skills. Thankfully, I had a former pill buddy who managed to keep steady employment with the cable company. We always got along, and he called in a few favors and hooked me up. I got hired, but it was a struggle. Not the work, which was easy to learn, but dealing with the public without telling them to fuck off. Worse, was trying to avoid the flood of illegal substances that are around you at all times. Customers will offer you weed or pills for all the channels, or bored co-workers will have something to "make the day pass by." It's a lot to dodge, especially if you're in recovery. Whenever I felt the itch again, I'd feel the scar tissue from my wrist surgery, and the itch would pass.
The last week has been one of those "Shit, is it Friday yet?" weeks that seem to be growing in frequency these days. I don't want to bore you with the details, but needless to say, most nights, I needed to reach out to my sponsor and have them talk me off the ledge. We recently had a turnover at the executive level, and my new boss Rory was a tremendous cock. A rager at levels science hasn't ever seen before. Just the worst dude imaginable.
Part of Rory's new crusade was coming in and firing a bunch of guys. The company called it "checking for redundancies in the labor force," but we all knew what it was. He was picking off two classes of people: high earners and guys with spotty pasts. I was in the latter group and imagined it was just a matter of time before my number got pulled. I was on pins and needles all week. I made sure I was the greatest cable installer you'd ever meet. So far, I was getting high marks but the forced joviality was wearing thin.
It's safe to say my joy had left on a one-way ticket. I have no clue when—or if—she'd return.
Back to this shit. I had just finished up my last job of the day when my work phone started buzzing. I cursed and thought about not answering, but the threat of unemployment loomed too large for me to do that. I picked up and knew from the jump my day was far from over. Denise from dispatch asked if I could cover a job left hanging because of "scheduling conflicts" (see: the original installer had been let go). It was near where I was and was a simple install.
I gritted my teeth and agreed. I liked Denise and knew she was worried about the hammer falling on her, too. She thanked me profusely, and promised to bring me cookies tomorrow. Since she's a hellcat in the kitchen and getting close to a dispatcher never hurts, I said no worries. I hung up, balled up my jacket, and screamed into it. I felt better after that.
981 Maple Street was about five minutes away, but it felt like a world away. Maple Street was at the end of the neighborhood where large swaths of grass fields faded into a thicket of woods. The woods rose up into the foothills until they graduated to mountains. To borrow a phrase from Shel Silverstein, the house resided where the sidewalk ends.
The house, an off-white birdhouse ranch type, was a little run-down but no worse than any of the others that populated this neighborhood. This place had been hit hard by economic times, and property values had plummeted. It was slowly recovering. In five years, this would be a place most current residents wouldn’t be able to afford. The front yard had a large oak tree that looked amazing but had killed the grass under its canopy. The rest of the yard looked well cared for.
I knocked and heard a few voices talking on the other side of the door. It opened, and a man in his late 40s stood there with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. He was tall and thin, save for a middle-aged paunch. His face was starting to crinkle at the edges, but he was southern California middle-aged, which meant he was holding up pretty well. He did look tired, though—the bags under his eyes were full-on steamer trunks.
"You with the cable company?" he asked, knowing I was.
I nodded. "You requested an install, right?"
"Yes, I did. Please, come in."
He opened the door wide, and I walked in. The house was pretty bare with a bachelor pad aesthetic. That didn't make much sense since I heard a female voice talking to him. I assumed it was his wife. I believe in a lot of wild shit, but to think that a wife would be fine with their house decorated like a 23-year-old bachelor lived there was a bridge too far.
"I'm Tom," the guy said, extending his hand. I shook it. "What did you need from my end?"
"Do you know if there was a previous hookup here?"
"Ugh, yeah. There is one in this room and another in the back bedroom."
"Okay. I should put the modem in a spot that'll hit the whole house. The signal can get wonky if it's in a room behind a wall or bricks or anything."
"This room is probably the best spot then," he said.
"Perfect. I have to get under the house, check the old connections, and replace some parts. Where's your hatch to get under the house?"
"Oh, it's around back. You can exit out this side door and walk through the backyard. It's on the eastern side. You might need a screwdriver to remove the grate. Do you need one?"
I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and showed him. "I should be good. Thank you, though."
"I should've guessed you'd have one."
"I appreciate your concern. Is there anything in the backyard I should be worried about? Dogs? Kids? Wild dogs? Wild kids?"
It was standard banter, and it always got a chuckle out of people. Same thing happened here. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "You should be good."
"Alright. I'll get started so you can get online as soon as possible."
"Great! If you need anything, I'll be doing some work in the back bedroom."
I nodded and headed for the side door. The dining room door led to the pie wedge-shaped backyard, which was larger in the back than the front made it look. The grass was as cooked as its kin in the front, but islands of green weeds seemed to be thriving. In the corner of the lot, an old metal shed stood, rusted to the point where I assumed divine intervention kept it standing. It seemed to have been there since the house had been built – or maybe several decades before.
When I turned the corner of the house, I spotted a woman and child staring into the corner of the yard, their backs facing me. The Woman wore a faded blue dress that fit her well. Tom had, it seemed, out-kicked his coverage with her. I didn't want to startle them, so I offered a friendly "hello" to the pair. The kid started to turn, but the mother placed a hand on their shoulder and kept their heads facing away from me. I squinted along the treeline, trying to see what they were concentrating on, but I didn't see anything unusual.
Just wanting to be done with the job, I let them be and moved on. I turned another corner to the house's short side and spotted the grate leading to the crawlspace. The grate looked as old as the shed, and I wasn't sure I would even need the screwdriver to open it. Hell, I was sure the thing would disintegrate in my hands as soon as I touched it.
I crouched and was about to pull it off when I heard something rustling near me. I glanced back to where I had seen the mom and kid, but they were gone. I assumed I had heard them leaving. I pulled the grate off – I was right, no screwdriver necessary – and as I set it aside, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was the kid. A boy around eight or so. But they weren't staring at me exactly. They were looking away from me, staring up at the roof line. I found it odd. Clearly, the kid wanted to talk to me but had turned their back on me. I coughed to let them know that I knew they were there, but they didn't respond.
"Hey man, what's up there?" I said.
"Nothing nice," he said, still keeping their gaze away from me.
"Oh," I said, "Not going to hurt me, is it?"
"Maybe," he said.
Not the answer I was expecting. "What is it?"
"They told me you'd know soon enough."
As he said that, I felt something crawling across my hand. I pulled my hand away from the house and shook it. I saw a spider land in a pile of leaves and scurry away. I let out a nervous laugh. I'm not scared of spiders or anything, but the shock of being told some unseen thing was watching me and didn't look pleased, coupled with the sensation of something on my skin, was enough to justify a quickened heartbeat.
I looked back at where the kid had been standing, but he was gone. I chalked it up to kids being little weirdos and went back to work. The faster I could get this installation done, the quicker I could go home and smoke a bowl. I let Kush be my guide. I put up my hood, turned on my small flashlight, and shimmied through the opening under the house.
I know guys who've worked for the company for years and still dread going into a crawl space. Granted, it's not my favorite thing to do, but I don't mind either. The bugs can be a nuisance but if you don't bother them, they tend to not bother you. Same with rats and mice. Raccoons, though? I crawl out and call animal control. Those little dudes are cute but nasty as all get out. My path today was nothing but cobwebs, so I was okay.
I flashed my light around and saw where the cable line went up into the living room floor. My job here was to ensure the coaxial line's integrity was still good. If it had been chewed on or anything, I'd replace it. Sometimes, I just replaced it anyway—saving myself a potential job later down the line.
I crawled over to where the line came in from the pedestal and started my once-over. I not only looked for any damage but also ran the line through my hands to make sure my eyes didn't miss anything. I was under the dining room area when I heard that side door close.
I stopped. Tom said something, but it was muffled. I wanted to be nosy, so I waited a beat to hear if anyone spoke back to him. Someone did. It was soft and quiet – I assumed it was the Boy – and I didn't make out what they asked, but I did hear Tom's response. In a firm voice, he said, "No, not right now. Run along."
There were footsteps over me that faded into another section of the home. Tom said, "He always wants to jump the gun. How many times do I have to tell him?"
I suppressed a laugh at the last line. It's the official father's lament. I kept moving my hand down the line and didn't feel nicks along the cable. In fact, on closer inspection, the line looked almost new. I was planning to change it, but this looked like it had been installed last week.
I could hear someone walk into the living room as I reached the spot where the line went through the house. Another pair of footsteps followed the first, and I heard a breathy but detached woman's voice ask, "Can we show our faces now?"
"I just told the boy 'no.' What makes you any different?" Tom said, an edge to his voice.
A chill raced through my body. I knew those words, but this conversation made me feel like I spoke another language. Can we show our faces? Why would you not?
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"If I have my way," he said, not finishing that thought. "Leave me be. I must try to get some things done before he leaves, and you two keep bothering me."
What did Tom mean to get some things done before I left? What did he have in mind? While trying to process all this, I heard something shuffle in the darkness just beyond my flashlight beam. I moved it around, trying to see the telltale glowing eyes of varmints, but nothing flashed back at me.
I heard something shuffling again, this time down by my feet. I cocked my head as best as I could and shone the flashlight into that corner of the house but, again, there wasn't anything else down here but me and a thousand spiders. I sighed and finished my inspection of the wire.
As I turned to crawl back out from under the house, I heard somebody sneaking around on the floor above me. The wood groaned as the person moved slowly. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but they wanted to keep it a secret. A shadow fell over the pinprick of light from where the cable went into the house. Someone was standing over it.
"Can you hear them down there? Moving in the dark?" It was the Boy. “They like the dark.”
"What are you saying?"
"The little shadows," he said, "They live down there. Do you hear them?"
This kid was creepy as hell. "I, ugh, I can't hear you, dude," I said, inching my body away from the wire, "We can talk inside."
"They're going to get you, but that's okay," he said, "It only hurts for a little bit, and then you're fine."
Fuck. That. I had no desire to respond to that nightmare of a statement. I hastened my inch-worming, heading back towards the open hatch. As I did, I heard more movement in the darkness around me. I tried to ignore it, but it was a fool's gambit. It was impossible to ignore.
I was getting closer to the opening when I saw a pair of tiny legs walk in front of the hatch. It was the Boy. How did he get there so quickly and without me hearing him run on the floor? I didn't have time to run through the scientific method because the Boy leaned down and placed the metal grate back over the hatch.
"Hey! Hey!" I yelled. "I'm still under here!"
The Boy didn't stop. Instead, he placed a trashcan in front of the grate, enshrouding the entire crawlspace in darkness and trapping me inside.
"Hey! I need you to move that!" I screamed. No response. I raised my fist as high as possible and punched the floor above me to hopefully get Tom’s attention. That was a mistake, as I managed to punch straight into an old nail. I felt it puncture in between my knuckles. The pain was instant, and I let out a howl.
I shook my hand and swore a blue streak. I reached up with my other hand, felt the tip of the nail I had managed to punch, and found a flat spot next to it. I banged hard on the floor and yelled again for some help. Nobody responded. Not at first.
Then I heard someone chuckle under the house.
I couldn't locate where it had come from because it sounded like it was all around me. I swung my light around as best as I could but didn't see anything. No glowing eyes, nothing. I inched forward a bit, and someone laughed again – this time, it was to my right. I turned my light in that direction and saw a sudden flood of light fill the space under the house.
"What the hell?" I said, my desire to leave overtaken by a desire to know what was unfolding next to me.
A pair of kid legs dropped down from the hole in the floor. I realized then that the hole must be an interior crawlspace. The kid had blocked off the metal grate and opened this hatch for some reason. While he dropped his legs down, he didn't move any further.
"Hey, you have to open that metal grate," I yelled. "I don't want to be trapped down here."
"They told me they needed you," he said, followed by a slight chuckle.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, not caring that I was talking to a child. "Open the goddamn grate!"
"The shadows are approaching," he said, pulling himself back into the house. He placed the lid back on the hole, and I was trapped in the dark again. I cursed to myself and started pounding on the floor again.
"Hey! Someone come help me!"
That's when I felt something run across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It didn't feel like the tiny claws of a passing rat. It was cold to the touch, but as it hit my skin, I felt a burn in my bones. It's hard to explain, but I felt both extremes simultaneously. Whatever it was skittered off into the darkness of the other side of the crawl space.
The kid started laughing again, which brought me back to reality. I army crawled as fast as I could to the grate. I balled up my fist and punched in the middle of the metal. The blow knocked the old nails out of the wall, and the grate broke up. I was about to push away the garbage can when it suddenly wheeled out of the way.
I saw Tom's legs standing there.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I got out from under the house so fast that I left a me-sized dirt cloud in my place. Once out, I shook my body loose as if I had things crawling all over me. Tom watched but didn't say anything at first. We finally locked eyes, and he could see the rage, fear, and confusion on my face. He wisely waited until I spoke first.
"What the hell is wrong with your kid? He blocked me under there and taunted me from the indoor crawlspace."
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me the shadow people or something were watching, and then he blocked me under the house!"
Tom's face twisted up into confusion. "I...I don't understand."
"I can't make it any simpler, Tom!" I screamed, letting unprofessionalism take root.
"I don't have a kid."
It hit me like an Ali right cross. My vision got dizzy, and I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at his face, looking for the sign of a lie or a joke, but he was as stone-faced as an Easter Island statue. After a beat, I found my sense again. "I heard you talking to him in the living room when I was under the house."
"One, I was on a phone call. Two, are you spying on me? What the hell, man?"
"I wasn't spying, and you weren't on the phone," I said. I also heard you talking to your wife. She asked you if she could show her face or something."
"I don't have a wife either."
I shook my head. "I fucking saw them in the backyard! They were staring at the fence!"
Tom paused and cocked his head to the side. When he spoke, it was softly, trying to calm me down. "Are you...did you have a few drinks before the appointment? Or a pill or something? No judging – I know pill heads. I won't report you or anything, but I understand if you need to come back tomorrow with a clearer head."
"I'm sober," I said, gritting my teeth. "But I know what I saw. What I heard."
"As the tree said to the lumberjack, I'm stumped," Tom said. "You look a little flush. You want a bottle of water or something? I can show you I'm here all alone."
My adrenaline had seeped out of my body, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I nodded at Tom, and he smiled. "I'll go grab you one. Do you want to come into the AC?"
"No, I'm okay. I need to double-check the connection to the pedestal."
"Sure. Be bright back," Tom said as he walked off.
But I had no intention of checking the connections. I was going to check on Tom. I didn't believe him at all. Something weird was going on, and I needed to know what. As soon as he turned the corner around the house, I broke out my flashlight and headed back to the crawlspace.
I dropped to the ground and shone my beam into the darkness. Something had crawled on me, and I wanted to see what it was. I moved my light into every section of the crawlspace but saw no eyes glowing back at me.
"If you're under there, call back."
There was nothing. I was starting to feel like a paranoid idiot. I called out once again just to be sure, but again, nothing called back. I shut off my light and sighed. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I heard a faint woman's voice call out, "Can we show our faces now?"
"Not yet," someone hissed from the trees above me. I snapped my head up, expecting to see someone hanging on a branch over my head, but I just saw green leaves.
"Can we show our faces now?" It was the Boy. It sounded like he was on the roof. I shielded my eyes and glanced at the roof but didn't see him.
"No. He's not ready yet," someone whispered in my ear. I snapped around, throwing a punch as I did, only to slam my fist into the fence. I felt one of my knuckles crack as it hit the wood, and the pain shot up my arm like lightning. Within seconds, my hand started to puff up, and blood dripped out the wounds.
The Boy chuckled again. It came from under the house. I looked down at the grate and saw his legs disappear into the darkness.
"Hey!" I called and dropped to the ground. I pulled out my flashlight and shone into the darkness again. I was confident I'd see him, but he wasn't there. Nobody was.
I sat up and felt goosebumps turn my arms into braille. I glanced over to the corner of the house and was surprised to see the disappearing hemline of the faded blue dress. I rushed over to the corner and didn't see the Woman. I saw Tom with a bottle of water.
"You okay?"
"Where did that woman go?" I asked, my voice panicking. "She was just here."
"Sir, do you need me to call your boss for you? You're starting to scare me."
"What's up with this house? Is it haunted?"
Tom started laughing. "I hope not. I just moved in. I'd hate to have roommates again, especially ones who leave ectoplasm all over the place."
As I stared at him, I saw the Woman and the Boy emerge from the other corner of the house. They looked up on the roof, their faces obscured by their hands and the sun. I pointed a finger at them and screamed, "They're right there!"
Tom spun around and looked, but there wasn't anything there. He turned back to me, not sure what to say. Instead, he handed me the bottle of water. "I gotta be honest. I didn't see anything. Drink the water...you might have heat stroke."
I threw the bottle on the ground. "I don't have fucking heat stroke. I have a man that's lying about these things." I got close to him. "What did you have planned for me? Why do they keep asking to show their faces?"
"I don't," he said, but I didn't stay to hear him finish his thought. I walked right past him and turned the corner of the house. As I did, I saw the blue hem disappear through the door that led to the kitchen. I followed right behind her.
I walked into the house, which was as silent as a corpse. The Woman and Boy were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I called out. "I just saw you guys walk in here. Where are you?"
The door behind me opened up. Tom walked in, his face reddening with anger. "You can't just walk into my house."
"I saw them walk in. Where are they?"
"I keep telling you, it's just me and you here. Now, if you want to finish your work…."
I walked away from him and headed toward the bedroom where I had seen the Boy standing. I wanted to check that crawl space. The room was empty, not even a moving box in there, so finding the hatch that led under the house was easy. I went into the closet and pried the hatch open.
Tom entered the room behind me, more confused now than angry. "I don't want a line run through here."
"The Boy was standing in this spot. I saw his legs. I spoke to him. He told me the shadows needed me for something." I glared down into the darkness under the house. Despite Tom's feigned declarations that there wasn't another person in the house, I knew he wasn't being honest.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure you're back on pills and in the middle of a delusion," he said.
"How did you know I had a pill addiction?"
"The way you're acting, it wasn't a hard guess."
"I'm sober, but I did have a problem with pills. I never told you. I don't tell anyone."
Tom stood there, confused about how to answer. I stood up and stared him down. He looked away, but I didn't move my gaze. "Who are you? Who put you up to this? Was it Rory? He trying to get me fired?"
Tom's shoulders sagged. "You got me," he said. "Rory hired me to get you in trouble. I'm... I'm sorry. He offered me free cable for a year and assured me you were a bad guy and, well…. I'm weak."
"That's really fuc…," I stopped. "You're lying. Right now. You're lying. Why?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dash past the open crawlspace hatch. I turned to the hatch opening and then back to Tom.
"Are you trying to stop me from looking in there?"
He didn't respond.
"What's under there?"
"He is," he said. "The Boy. He hides under there all the time. He has...friends down there."
"The shadow people?"
Tom shrugged, "What he calls them. I call them a menace. Impossible to get my work done with them causing a racket."
"What work?"
"Things you'd never understand in a million years," he said, "Things beyond your brain's capacity to imagine. Things that will help usher in a new world. Your kind's time is coming to a close. My work represents the new order."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure if I should run away or punch his lights out. Instead, I just spat out, "Bro, what the fuck?"
"Can we show our faces now?" the Boy called out from under the house.
I looked down at the hatch and then back at Tom. He nodded toward the opening. "Do you want to see your future?"
"Fuck it," I said. I got down, grabbed the sides of the opening, and lowered my head under the house.
I kept my eyes closed for a second, assuming I'd either see something horrifying or something would hit me in the face. When nothing struck me, I opened my eyes. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything.
"There's nothing under here," I said.
"Can we show our faces now?" said the Boy from somewhere under the house.
"Show him," Tom said.
I sat back up, grabbed my flashlight from my pocket, and flipped it on. I looked at Tom, "If you try anything, so help me, God."
Tom just smiled. I looked back down at the hatch and sighed. I was suddenly hit with a bolt of common sense. What was I doing? My internal alarms were going off and I was ignoring them. Curiosity had gotten me this far, but my fight instincts were starting to lose to my flight. No job was worth this.
"Man, fuck this," I said, reversing course and standing. I turned to confront Tom, but he was gone. I hadn't heard him leave, but there wasn't a trace of him there. "Tom? Where the hell are you?"
He didn't respond, and I decided that I had hit my "weird shit" quota for the day. I closed the closet door and headed back into the living room to grab my gear. I'd call dispatch and tell them someone else had to come out and finish the….
The wood floor cracked, splintered, and gave way when I put my weight on it. I fell through the floor and landed with a thud on the dirt in the crawl space. On the way down, I hit my ribs on a crossbeam and heard them crack and knock the wind out of me. As I lay on the dirt, writhing in pain, my lungs did their damnedest to find a breath. It couldn't, and my vision started to blur at the edges. For a fleeting few seconds, I envisioned my death on a dirty crawlspace floor. It wasn’t comforting.
I rolled onto my back and finally took in a massive gulp of life-saving air. The blurring vision subsided, and all that remained was the aching pain of a busted rib. My muscles around my rib cage spasmed and pulled tight against my lungs. After the initial big breath, I could only take shallow gulps because the pain was searing.
I lay there for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts, when I felt something skitter across my legs again. I kicked out of instinct but didn't hit anything. Instead, I heard the chuckling again. My flashlight had fallen out of my hand. I found it and turned it on.
This time, I did see something. Pairs of eyes—dozens of them—watched me from the darkness that surrounded me. These weren't possums or rats. I never hoped to find a raccoon under the house more than I did at that moment. I knew whatever these things were, they weren't natural and they wanted to harm me.
"Still want to know what they plan to do to you?" the Boy asked from behind me.
I turned around and shone the light where I heard the voice. The Boy was lying on his stomach, his face looking down at the ground. All I could see at the moment was the top of his head.
"Wha-what's going on?" I said, the light bouncing from my trembling hand.
"I can show you my face now," he said. He raised his head and….
The Boy didn't have a face.
He had the space for a face, but there were no features whatsoever—nothing but pale pink skin pulled tight across the front of his head. At that moment, the image of a wooden art figure came to me.
“What the ever-loving fuck?"
"Want to see something really scary?" the Boy said, his lack of a mouth not stopping him from speaking. He raised himself onto the tips of his fingers and toes and started skittering toward me, laughing as he did.
I clambered out of the crawlspace as fast as my battered body could carry me. I got out of the hole and onto my feet and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The Woman in the blue dress was standing next to the hole in the floor. Like the Boy, she didn't have a face either. But I could feel her eyes on me. Looking into my mind. Into my soul. She stepped toward me, and I bolted for the front door.
I whipped it open and was greeted by Tom standing there, blocking me. He grinned. "Leaving so soon?"
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, checking behind me to see if the Woman was still coming toward me. She was, and she was gaining quickly.
"Can we show our faces now?" he asked with a laugh.
I turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack. His face was gone. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My legs were jelly, but I kept myself propped up. The human desire to survive can perform miracles.
Tom reached out and pointed at a spot on the far side of the living room wall. I turned and saw three skinned human faces hanging from old nails: a man, a woman, and a boy.
"You're turn to join us," Tom whispered. But the voice wasn't said out loud. It came from inside my own head. "We can always use another body around here."
My brain clicked into action and sent an all-points bulletin to my limbs. The message was simple and actionable – "Get the fuck going, you dope."
I felt my hand ball into a fist and spun. It landed where Tom's nose would've been. It should've knocked him back, causing him to stumble and giving me time to run. But that didn't happen. Instead, his face pulled apart, letting my fist slide right through. It closed on my arm, trapping me.
I yanked and yanked, but my arm would not dislodge from his face. I glanced back and saw the Woman nearly next to me. The Boy was climbing out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. I looked back at the wall and saw Tom's hanging face silently laughing.
Something about those silent laughs cut me to my core. They were laughing because Tom thought he had outsmarted me. He had beat me. That my face would soon be hanging on the wall next to theirs. I wasn't going to let that happen.
I saw a loose brick on the walkway, and a plan flashed in my mind. I yanked hard, sending Tom stuttering forward enough for me to wrap my finger around the brick. I brought it up and sent it towards his face. As expected, the face parted again, and the brick flew through easily.
But as soon as the face curtains pulled aside, I yanked my arm free. With my limb free, I took off in a mad sprint for my truck. I got inside and fumbled my keys as I tried to start the engine. Tom, the Woman, and the Boy stood together at the front door and watched as I got the van going and rocketed down the street.
I drove like a madman for ten minutes, trying to put as much space between me and the house as possible. I finally stopped at a gas station to collect my thoughts. I was jittery, and my mind was swimming, but I was also relieved. I had gotten out.
I collected myself and called Denise to tell her I couldn't finish the installation at 981 Maple Street. I was going to suggest we cancel the order and not send another installer there. That's when the conversation took a turn I wasn't expecting.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be off an hour ago," Denise said when I called her.
"I was trying to finish the install at 981 Maple, the one you sent me to."
"I didn't send you anywhere," she said. "With how insane Rory is being about overtime hours, I'm trying to keep everyone below the threshold."
"What are you talking about? You called and asked me. You don't remember," I said, a bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
She gave me a nervous chuckle, "I swear I didn't. Are you feeling okay? You gotta come back. People are waiting for the van."
"I can prove it. I have a record of you calling me on my phone," I said. I opened my call log, and my jaw dropped. There was no call from Denise. She was telling me the truth. But if she didn't call me, who did?
"Rory wants to talk to you when you get in. I wouldn't mess around, he seems pissed" she said before hanging up.
I haven't moved since. I wanted to write this down because I felt like it needed to be recorded. Something supremely fucked up is happening at 981 Maple Street. It nearly got me. It still might. To think, on any other typical day, a surprise conversation with my boss would be the scariest thing that could happen to me. Funny how seeing a faceless ghoul can prioritize your problems. If you're hired to do work there, turn it down. Trust me, it's not worth it.
"Can we show our faces now?" they asked. "Fuck no," should be the only response.

Hey everyone. Just wanted to see if anyone has had similar symptoms to me. I am hoping to be eligible for endoscopic posterior cervical surgery and am awaiting appointments with surgeons.
My MRI results are:Cervical cord is normal in size and intensity. Intervertebral disc heights are maintained.
C2-3: No spinal canal or foraminal narrowing
C3-4: No spinal canal or foraminal narrowing
C4-5: No spinal canal or foraminal narrowing
C5-6: Small to moderate right paracentral and subarticular disc osteophyte complex results in mild spinal canal narrowing. Unconvertebral osteophytes result in moderate right and mild left foraminal narrowing
.C6-7: No spinal canal narrowing. Unconvertebral osteophytes result in mild right foraminal narrowing. No left foraminal narrowing.
C7-T1: No spinal canal or foraminal narrowing
I have bilateral pain that is mainly aches and spasms down shoulder blades, trapezius, chest, posterioside/front shoulder, bicep, serratus anterior, armpits, elbows, forearms, and into all fingers (mainly in middle 3 fingers though). Pain is similar on both sides of body. My research shows that C6 nerve root shares a lot of anatomy with c5 and c7 and can differ from person to person.
I have had some zingers in my neck (scalene area) but don't have a lot of neck pain in general. It's definitely progressed over the last 5 months as we originally treated it as a shoulder injury in physio and chiro. I don't really have muscle weakness but lots of pain/twitches. I have gone numb in the forearms in ring/pinky fingers at night a couples times when sleeping on the ground or with arms on body but no numbness other than that. My flare ups generally happen when I used my arms too much or carry things that are too heavy. A couple occasions at night I have felt like someone was cutting into both shoulders right on the nerve (10/10 pain for sure).
I am on Pregabalin which takes the edge off but doesn't get rid of pain completely. I am looking in the USA and Germany for opinions as it takes forever to get in with someone in British Columbia, Canada.
Has anyone had similar experiences??? Just wondering if all of my symptoms sound like they make sense. I have attached some pictures of my MRI for your viewing. Much appreciated.

"I was raised Irish-Catholic, never talk about your feelings. Tell 'em you're fantastic."
Before this journey started, I wasn't religious. I wasn't spiritual. I identified most readily with Buddhist teachings, and tried my best to think of Pema Chodrön's teachings shared from Trungpa Rinpoche. I had received cd audio books from my father after an attempt over 10 years ago. "Don't Bite the Hook" and "Getting Unstuck."
You see, when you attempt to rid yourself from the world there will be no shortage of those trying to tell you the problem isn't YOU, it's the tether. Remove your tether, release your burden, be free. Life felt like the lead around my neck, not attachment. It's funny. I don't think I understood the distinction until a stranger on omegle asked with all earnestness afforded them through anonymity:
"Ya but the reason you can't off yourself is other people, right?"
But I tried my best to understand, to let go. I did the body scans, the mindfulness meditation, the nature bathing, the yoga, the journaling, and the gratitude exercises. But I kept getting stuck. To bad places, bad people, bad situations, etc. Each one removed more and more of my faith in my ability to get unstuck. I accumulated more trauma over the years while navigating misdiagnoses of both mental and physical nature. I behaved in ways I scarcely understood to contain fires I couldn't see, moved through life as if every inch of me were aflame. Immolation through inaction. I had experienced so much pain, so much invalidation, so much erasure. My empathy ruined my lens. I couldn't see people mistreating me when the ghosts of the people who hurt them stared into my consciousness.
Sometimes I fell in the codependent trap of trying to "fix" them. Sometimes I just sat beside the monster and put an arm around them. "I know you didn't start out this way. I know you don't have to end this way. There's a choice, a different path. This isn't YOU." Was I talking to the parts of myself I saw in them? Or was I merely crafting the narrative that kept us most comfortable? I'm still not quite sure.
Why am I finding the words I need in works of Christianity equally as in works from Atheist/non-theists? I understand the concept that the Universe is all of us, everything. That resonates with me and feels "correct" but I keep getting slapped in the face with signs/syncs aligning with Christ/resurrection/redemption/the holy trinity.
I want to scream out for you. I want to come over for coffee and talk your ear off about all of these questions I'm having. I want to know how you arrived at your faith. I never got the chance to ask. I saw the cross around your neck on that first night and told you "it's okay, I've dated religious boys before." You gave a half-hearted chuckle and said, "well, I believe in A God." As if to say "not the one you're used to/thinking of." I didn't question it further as I figured it was too early for something so heavy.
But you don't want that, and I have to respect it. I replay you taking off your cross before each time you laid me in your bed. I know it's because fucking with jewelry on is a bad idea, but at the time it felt like I was too dirty to touch with your faith hands. Like you needed separation between your light and dark before it touched all the dark inside of me.
The first time we broke up, after I had that huge emotional reaction after sex- I wish I could have explained then what I know now. You released stored trauma in my hips. All those tears welling up in my eyes were from years before you arrived.
"It's in the blood, it's in the blood I met my love before I was born He wanted love, I taste of blood He bit my lip, and drank my war From years before, from years before
"Not even my parents love me," I cried. I felt horrified for having said it without knowing why. I realize now I was saying:
"why do you love me when there is nothing worthy of it here?"
So when you said "I love you" and I said "you don't mean that do you?" your silence was appreciated but it broke me.
I have never been touched the way you touched my body, heart, soul. I think I cried so hard because a part of me knew I was having sex with someone I loved. It didn't make sense and it terrified me. Despite having a string of long term relationships, this felt different from all of them. I felt you permeate all of me. Some days I still feel it. I ache for your skin on mine.

I want to stab my chest or my stomach with a knife over and over or literally rip out my own throat or intestines or heart. I have such a strong urge to do it. It literally aches through my arms and hands. But I don't want to die. I wish I could just destroy myself and then regenerate like "it's all good. My wife and kids don't have to deal with my death. My patients don't have to know that while I'm fighting to save their lives, I'm wanting to wreck myself. My loved ones won't have to see the scars on my body and wonder if its their fault." I pretend to cut my arms with fucking markers or pens because I know scars will hurt my family. I slap myself or punch myself as hard as I can without leaving a bruise so I don't lose my job or worry anyone. I want to just destroy everything about me and then carry on like nothing happened. Im an adult... not just an adult but also a freaking therapist. Idg why i want to destroy myself so bad when im so happy with what i do for a living and i am so incredibly happy with my amazing family. Does that make any sense to anyone else?
P.s. I tried to post this to depressed and apparently I'm too dumb to figure that out

First / Previous
Jori stood at the edge of the alleyway, pressed up against the wall of The Wandering Fowl as she peered into the narrow street’s depths. Humming echoed from within; a soft, gentle tune that originated from the girl that stood on the snow covered path.
Her sister.
Aria’s attention was not focused towards the end of the street, but rather on the large furred beast in front of her. The auroc groaned gently as the girl moved her brush, patting the bovine as she was lost within the rhythm of her own tune. She reached up and scratched the beast behind its horn, provoking a satisfied bellow from the large animal as it nuzzled up against her. Aria’s giggle broke her melody, ringing out with the same innocent tone that a child’s laugh could only produce.
Just like any other girl.
Pain panged in Jori’s heart, a dull ache that still possessed enough bite to make her clutch at her chest. She looked towards the ground, eyes focusing on the sack that sat at her feet. Its cloth had been pushed to its limit, burgeoning from what had been stuffed within. Jori was content to lose herself for a moment, to forget about the growing hollowness in her stomach, but she was brought out of her trance with a tap on her arm.
“Jori?” Jon asked, her brother’s tone a mix of worry and apprehension.
“I… I’m…” she swallowed, “we could just leave it here. She doesn’t need us bothering her after all she’s been through.”
She started to move away from the alley, but her brother caught her shoulders.
“We’ve come this far Jori, and she leaves today,” he said, his tone heavy, “we can’t back away now.”
She frowned at him, “Brave words for the one making me go first.”
Jon scratched his head, “You’re the oldest, you gotta take charge in these things.”
Jori opened her mouth to respond, but froze as she saw the tremble in her brother’s fingers.
She sighed, “Ok, I’ll do it,” steeling herself, Jori slapped her cheeks, straightened her back, and spun around.
Only to jump at who she saw.
Though he was without armor or helmet, Helbram was easily recognizable in a small town like Redhaven. He was tall, taller than most in the village, but not so much that it would make him a giant, and there were farmers that possessed broader frames than him. However, none carried the same presence as the adventurer. There was an air to the man that threaded the line between gentle and imposing, as if he could switch between the two at the drop of a hat if needed.
As he loomed over the siblings, he trended towards the latter.
He may have been brought into the village in an unconscious state, but any sign of his incapacitation had vanished over the fortnight that it took for him and his party to recover, letting the full weight of his gaze settle over Jori as he looked the two over with unblinking eyes. His vision eventually settled on the bag next to Jori’s feet, and, after a moment of study, a smile broke from his emotionless guise.
He leaned against the wall and tilted his head towards the alley, “Go to her, we will give you some peace.”
Jori tilted her head, eventually realizing that the “we” Helbram mentioned included Leaf, who stood behind him closer to the tavern’s door. The half elven man looked at them with a frown, one that did not reach his eyes, and turned his gaze back to the street, saying nothing.
Jon prodded her in the back, which was enough to get her moving. She picked up the bag and walked past Helbram, marching into the alleyway with enough force behind her steps to echo through the narrowed path.
Echoes that made Aria turn towards her.
As the sisters’ eyes met, both froze. Jon stumbled into Jori’s back, but upon seeing Aria looking at them stopped in his tracks as well. Their sister’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, and the girl leaned against the auroc at her side for support. Her hands clutched at her brush, and the small shake to her fingers revealed the trepidation that the girl felt at the sight of her siblings. It was a sight that made Jori’s heart fall.
But she pressed on.
She walked closer, taking cautious steps towards her sister as she held the bag in front of her. Aria did not react to her approach, but Jori settled at stopping a stone’s throw away. She knelt down and opened the bag.
Revealing the bundles of clothing within.
“We didn’t know how much you needed…” Jori started, “and we didn’t know what your sizes were, so we gathered all we could.”
“We made sure there weren’t any holes in ‘em either,” Jon added in haste, “they may have been ours but they should last you a long while,” like Jori, his eyes were focused towards the ground and not the girl in front of them.
Their sister said nothing.
“We put some blankets in there too,” Jon said, “I know the cold doesn’t bother you but-”
Jori stomped on her brother’s foot. He winced, but upon realizing what he said kept his lips sealed. Cautiously, she looked up towards Aria, staring at the girl’s lips to avoid her eyes.
No reaction.
They stood in silence, the air between them growing more hollow by the moment. It was an emptiness that started to creep back into Jori’s heart, a sense of futility that told her to turn around and walk away. She clenched her hands into fists and pushed that instinct to the side, forcing herself to look her sister in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” she said, the words cracking as her vision blurred, “for abandoning you, for being scared of you. For being an awful, awful sister,” she blinked furiously to keep her tears from falling, “you deserved so much better, and I know there is nothing I can do to make up for what I have done.”
“What we have done,” Jon said, his voice a trembling mess, “I’m sorry too. Sorry for being such a poor brother, for thinking that what I had done was the only… the right thing to do,” he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath to steady himself, “It’s not our place to say this, but we hope wherever you go you find the happiness you deserve.”
Still, Aria did not respond.
Any bravery that the siblings held vanished at their sister’s silence. Jori’s gaze fell and, when nothing else was said, she spun around to leave, grabbing her brother’s arm.
“I can’t forgive you.”
Jori’s heart shattered to pieces.
The instinct to run swelled within her, to flee from the burden of guilt that crashed against her shoulders. The shake in her brother’s arm told her that Jon felt the same, but neither of them moved.
Whatever was to be said, they deserved.
“The words are there… but as I try to say them, I can only see you as you were before,” Aria said, “The ones who laughed and played outside my door as I could only look on. The ones who ignored me as they continued to be happy, to be loved. I can’t say it, not after all this time.”
Jori could hear the weeping in her sister’s voice, but neither her nor Jon could bring themselves to look back as their own tears streamed down their faces.
“But I can say thank you,” Aria’s footsteps drew closer, “for the clothes… and for trying to save me.”
It was the sibling’s time to be silent.
“We may never see each other again, but I hope the best for the both of you.”
An impulse washed over Jori then, an urge to turn around and embrace her sister, to cry into the girl’s shoulders and let her do the same, to be like siblings should have been.
But it was too late for that.
“We hope the best for you too,” Jori said, unable to face her sister. She went to say more, but the words caught at her throat.
Unable to take anymore, Jori ran, letting the desire to escape take over. She hurried past the Helbram and Leaf into the street, her steps carrying her far enough into Redhaven that they were out of sight. Jon was at her side, and when their sprint could carry them no further they collapsed to the ground, chests heaving as their sobs hindered their ability to catch their breath.
Tears flowed from their eyes, unending as they traced down their cheeks, splashing onto the street as they continued to cry. They ignored the stares of the townsfolk that walked by, too lost in the tide of emotions that carried them this far. When the tears finally slowed, Jori could still feel the sorrow within her chest, the pain that dug into her heart, unable to leave.
But it had faded.
Their sister’s words did not relieve Jori of the burden of guilt, but it had reduced it to a dull ache. One that she could live with.
Must live with.
Jori wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up. She held a hand out to Jon and, after her brother wiped his face, he took it with a firm grip as she helped him up. They met each other’s gaze and shared a nod. They had to continue on, to be the best that they could be, for their sake.
For their sister’s wishes.
___
Aria watched her siblings disappear from the alley’s exit. When they were gone, the grip on her brush relaxed and she let go of the breath that she was holding. She looked towards the bag in front of her and knelt down. Curiosity fueled her hands then, placing the brush down and pulling a piece of clothing from the parcel. It revealed itself to be a shirt as it unfolded, the size only a tad larger than what she needed. It was weaved from a white cloth, and in every way was unremarkable.
Yet the sight of it made her happy.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of oncoming footsteps. Helbram and Leaf approached, and while the usual frown-faced man looked at her with some concern, his companion was more relaxed, yet somehow focused at the same time.
Helbram knelt down in front of her, “Are you alright?”
Aria nodded, “I don’t know if it was the right thing to say.”
He put his hand on her head, “Yours is a situation that is a bit more complicated than right or wrong,” he admitted, “and in such times it is better to instead ask this: did you do all that you needed to do?”
She looked down, thinking for a moment, but moved her gaze up to match his, “Yes, I did.”
Helbram smiled at her, “Then that, for now, is all that matters,” he ruffled her hair and stood up, taking the bag into his hand. He held it out for her to put the shirt back into it and held it out to Leaf, who took it as he walked over to Bessie.
“I’ll get her sorted out,” Leaf said, “now go do what you have to do.”
Helbram let out a breath and looked to Aria, “Are you ready?”
She nodded, one that he returned.
He turned towards the tavern’s side door, but waited for Aria to walk ahead of him before he followed. As they walked through The Wandering Fowl’s kitchen, she caught sight of both Elly and Jahora packing various foodstuffs. The taller woman bit into an apple absentmindedly as she peered into the tavern’s icebox. As she noticed them walk by, her ears perked up, and she met Helbram’s eyes with a knowing gaze. Jahora caught sight of them next, saying nothing but flashing Aria an encouraging smile as they walked through the door and into the tavern’s main hall.
She walked up the building’s stairs and down the hallway of rooms that composed its second floor. As her hand reached towards the door that lay at the end of the path, Helbram placed his hand on the doorknob in her stead.
“Are you certain of this?” he asked, his tone measured, but unable to hide the concern beneath.
The weight of the question gave rise to the doubt that sat beneath her determination. Given what had transpired… it would not be wrong of her to leave the door closed, to leave what lay beyond it behind her.
But her heart said otherwise.
Steeling herself, Aria straightened her back and took in a deep breath, “Yes.”
Helbram patted her shoulder, “Then do what you must.”
He opened the door and followed after her as she walked in, facing the two people at the opposite side of the room.
Cora and Erik.
The two Shade’s were still bound, their hands restricted behind their back with Sealing Cuffs while rope tied their legs together. In all practical ways they could do no harm, but that did not stop the flutter that Aria could feel stirring in her chest. Whilst Erik maintained a neutral expression upon noticing Aria, Cora’s own dejected guise shifted to surprise as her eyes fell upon her. Surprise that gave way to something else, though Aria could not tell what. The girl stepped further into the room, and while Helbram did not loom over her, he shifted his position so that she was never out of his reach.
Aria’s lips trembled as she searched for the words to speak, her breath shaking as they refused to form. She squeezed her hands in frustration, the fluttering in her chest now a rapid pounding as she could not form a sentence no matter how hard she tried. She’d ruminated over it far before this moment, yet the sight of the couple, their silence as they waited for her to speak, pushed all those thoughts from her mind. In its place she could only remember Erik and Cora as they were. That kindly man who fed her, who treated her as something more than a monster to be ignored, to be shunned. The bright woman who sat her in her lap and brushed her hair, giving her the warmth of a mother she never had.
She knew that is not who they were, that it was an act meant to make her like them, to feel indebted to them.
But it felt real, the happiness that it gave her was real, and it was that which stopped the words at her throat. She looked to the floor, unable to look at the two any longer, but took in a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said, “for taking care of me.”
It was a selfish thing to say, something that she could blurt out without damaging the fragile integrity of memories based on falsehood. She’d meant to confront them, but could only find the words to run away.
“Aria.”
She looked up, heart stopping as her eyes met with Cora’s. Gone was the woman’s previous madness, that twisted look in her eyes as she called her a name that was not hers. In its place was the same Cora that she always knew. The one who always wore a smile, who always looked at her with warmth. It was a falsehood, she knew that.
Yet it brought her comfort all the same.
“It is we who should say thank you,” she said, “for giving us a warmth that we’d not felt in so, so long. And it is we who should say sorry, for trying to take that warmth for ourselves.”
“Live your life, Aria.”
The girl’s gaze drifted to Erik, and she could see that man that she’d met in the alley, that man who made her feel like she belonged, and the memories of that moment brought tears to her eyes.
“Walk the path you want to walk, and let none steer you from it,” he said, “it is not our place to say such things, I know, but we should say it nonetheless.”
“May the Matron keep your path clear, your steps steady,” Cora said
Aria bit her lip, and she felt the impulse to walk up and embrace them, but she stopped herself. Even if they were sincere, she could not forget who they truly were, no matter how much her heart wished to. Still, the desire grew, and the tears started to flow down her face. She smiled at the couple and gave a firm nod, then turned and made for the door.
“You take care of her, you hear me?” Cora said to Helbram.
Aria felt his hand on her shoulder as she stopped at the door. He opened it and gently pushed her forward.
“Of that, you should have no doubt.”
___
Ren stood outside The Wandering Fowl, taking in the brisk Winter air as he stood in the street without a coat. The townsfolk looked at him as if he was mad, but that was no different than the look they’d given all of them upon their return. They did give him a wider berth today, but that was due to the wagon that had been moved to the street. A wheeless construct, the vehicle was held aloft by the crystal located in its undercarriage, one that radiated a green light as Aether coursed through it and the rest of the wagon. Various crates and bags were stuffed under its roof, and it was in the process of being loaded even further as Helbram’s party shoved various bags and foodstuffs into its bed. Had he not known that the magitek design meant that their auroc would feel little of the burden, he would have been inclined to feel pity for the beast.
Part of him still did as Elly stuffed a burgeoning sack of books into an already crowded space.
“Do you think you have enough?” he mused towards the group, “one would think you meant to start a village with all you’re taking.”
Helbram, who just walked out of the wagon’s bed, laughed. He walked up to the Cleric while dusting his hands.
“Winter will prove to be a harsh mistress this year,” he said, “and while I have every faith that our hunter is up to the task of keeping us provided, I’d rather not place such a burden upon him.”
“That, and we’d rather not taste bitter herbs for a spell,” Jahora said as she adjusted Aria’s coat, “a month away from such flavors is much too short.”
Leaf’s head poked from behind the wagon, “Oi, if the plants bite back then it's good for ya, don’t blame me for having the wisdom to recognize it.”
“Oh we have the wisdom,” Elly said as she joined Helbram at his side, “we just choose to embrace comfort in its stead.”
“Bunch of soft bellied louts, the lot of ya.”
Aria giggled as Leaf’s grumbles faded into the background. She took Jahora’s hand as the Mage guided her towards Ren. The smaller woman was all smiles when she looked at the girl, but as her eyes cut to the side wariness flashed through her features.
Leon sat on the stairs leading into the tavern. His hands were still bound, and rather than meeting anyone’s eyes he kept his eyes to the ground. Ren frowned as he looked at his companion, partially regretting his decision to push Leon to at least see the party off. He encouraged it anyways; the alternative just didn’t feel right.
He just hoped Leon felt the same.
As Leaf finished adjusting Bessie’s harness, he jogged up and joined with his companions, his caution towards Ren’s companion less concealed than the others as he glared in the Black Cloak’s direction.
“So where are you off to, after all this?” Helbram asked Ren.
“As we originally planned,” the Cleric said, “we make for Blade’s Rest, meeting up with a larger cohort before we travel back to headquarters,” he scratched his head, “Winter will prolong our travels a fair bit, but we’d best be moving as quick as possible now that we’ve fully recovered.”
“Of that, we are of similar minds,” Elly said.
“What of you? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Whitebridge,” Helbram said, “it was where we were heading before all this, and we see no reason not to continue on.”
Ren rubbed his chin, “Whitebridge eh? That is quite the journey…” he looked to Aria. The girl was not cautious around him, he could sense that she was on edge. No doubt due to Leon’s presence. And given his companions actions… she had every right to be.
As he looked upon her, however, he thought towards Erik and Cora, about how they knew that she would be in such a remote village like Redhaven. As he did, he removed the symbol of Velendel from his neck and placed his hand over it. The matching eye on his forehead glowed with a golden light as he made an effort of will, casting a spell over the amulet that left it glowing for a moment before the light faded away. He walked over to Jahora and knelt down in front of the Mage, presenting the amulet to her. She looked at him in confusion, and did not reach for the necklace.
“I am not certain, but I believe someone may possess the means to find Aria from afar. That is the only way I can think of to explain why Erik and Cora decided to settle here of all places.”
“A Scryer, perhaps?” Elly inquired, “Though typically their reach is fairly limited.”
“For the average one, yes,” Ren admitted, “but were the Scryer a Shade… then it may very well be possible,” he looked back at Jahora, “concealment magics are not my speciality, but with enough of Velendel’s grace I do believe that wearing this will keep Aria from their watchful gaze, though the enchantment will need refreshing often. And I do recognize it is suspicious of me to provide this under such pretenses, but I ask that you trust me in this.”
Jahora looked into his eyes and, after a moment, took the amulet from him. She directed her attention to Aria, who had her eyes narrowed in clear effort to keep up with the conversation.
“Do you want to wear this?” she asked the girl, holding the necklace out to her.
Aria reached out and touched the amulet, brow furrowed as she ran her fingers along its various ridges, “It feels… warm.”
The girl nodded and let Jahora put it on her. When the Mage did, Aria looked at it again.
“It’s a bit ugly though,” she said before slipping it under her coat.
Ren snorted, “Of that, we are in agreement.”
“Are you certain of this?” Helbram asked, “I have little knowledge in the ways of divine magic, but a Cleric without their Symbol strikes me as something of a hindrance.”
“We’d hardly be that forminable if a bit of jewelry was our lifeline,” Ren said as he stood up, “Please, pay it no mind. Besides, this is the perfect opportunity to get a new one, perhaps one not so garish,” he winked at Aria, and she smiled at him.
“Well, thank you, again,” Helbram said as he held out his hand, “when we next meet, the round is on me.”
Ren smiled and took the man’s hand, “Multiple rounds, perhaps? I’ve a feeling my superiors will be placing me in a drinking mood soon enough.”
Helbram chuckled, “That can be arranged.”
As they let go of one another Ren clapped his hands, “I’ve delayed you long enough, you’d best be off before Spring sets in.”
The party smiled at him and made their way to the wagon.
All except Helbram.
The man marched towards Leon, who’s posture remained unchanging at his approach. Even if the Black Cloak didn’t look at him, Helbram held his hand out.
“Farewell Leon,” he said, “I hope if we cross swords again it will be as we did the first time, not the last.”
Leon didn’t look up.
Helbram sighed, but rather than drop his hand, he gave Leon a quick pat on the shoulder and went to join his party. Before long their wagon disappeared from Ren’s sight, and his companion still did not move.
The Cleric took a seat next to Leon, “It is going to be quite the burden if I have to transport three bound people,” he said.
The Black Cloak remained silent.
Frowning, Ren made to move back into the tavern, but stopped as Leon finally spoke.
“She seemed so… normal.”
“Aria? Yes, the seal is broken but she appears to be in control of herself,” Ren mused, “an interesting development for one as young as her, but it is not unheard of to gain control of one’s Shade.”
“It was out of control Ren, a power that I had not seen since… since…” he fell silent.
“And yet, there she was, hale and hearty as any child should be.”
“I know… I know,” there was a growing frustration in Leon’s voice, “And it has made me think. Had I called out enough, urged him enough… would he still be here today?”
Ren heart ached for his friend, “We can’t know that.”
“And yet, now we have an idea,” Leon said, “proof that such a thing is possible,” tears dropped from Leon’s face as he looked up, “I was so certain he was lost Ren, and the look he gave me told me he thought so as well, but there she was, in the same position, the same abyss of hopelessness, and she came back.”
There was nothing Ren could say to that.
“How many? How many have I killed thinking that they were too far gone? Thinking that I was putting an end… stopping tragedy before it could happen?” He buried his head in his hands, “I’m sorry Astraeus, I’m so sorry…”
Ren walked in front of his companion and pulled him up, “Look at me Leon.”
When he refused to do so, the Cleric forced his gaze up. The Black Cloak’s eyes were red, and the despair beneath them seemed bottomless.
“I understand your grief,” he said, “And I know that you need time to process all of it, but what you can’t let it do is drag you under. Doing so will not help anyone. It will not honor your brother’s memory.”
Leon closed his eyes.
“Let us make our way back to headquarters, and when we are in more stable conditions, we can work through all of this. We can’t afford to fall apart now, do you understand?”
His companion’s breaths slowed as he controlled himself. When his eyes finally opened, a measure of control had returned. Grief still sat behind them, but for now it did not overwhelm Leon, and that was all Ren could ask for at the moment.
“I understand,” the Black Cloak said.
“Good,” Ren unbound the man’s arms, “and when we get back, know that you will always have my aid. We’ll get through this, of that I have no doubt.”
Leon clasped his arm, “Thank you, truly.”
Ren returned the gesture, “What are friends for?”
___
Helbram yawned as he stretched, leaning back on the wagon’s driver seat.
“Don’t you start with that,” Leaf fussed, “We’ve been on the road for barely an hour.”
“I am afraid I must,” Helbram objected in an overly dramatic tone, “my injuries have left me weakened and unable to handle the wear and tear of the road.”
Leaf pressed his lips thin and rolled his eyes.
Elly snorted from within the wagon, “Perhaps you need a distraction? I could teach you how to use a needle so you may be of some use.”
Helbram looked back at her. The Weaver held the sleeve of a pair of pants in her hands, her hands moving with practiced precision as the needle in her fingers glided in and out of the cloth.
“Nonsense,” Helbram said, “I would only slow you down.”
“Perhaps,” she admitted, “but the company would be appreciated.”
She smiled as they both looked at Aria and Jahora. They both leaned against each other as they slept, a contentment on both their faces that was enough to banish any thoughts of waking them from their nap.
“Another time, perhaps,” Helbram said in a quieter tone.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He flashed her a smile before turning back in his seat, noting Leaf’s now serious expression.
“Everything alright?”
His companion scratched his head, “Honestly I’m just feeling a bit out of my depth. I don’t know how to raise a child, nor one that happens to be a font of magic,” he sighed, “I’m just trying to process it all.”
Hebram rubbed his chin, “It is quite a lot to take in, I admit, but it is not as if you are doing this alone,” he snorted, “I know Jahora would raise quite the objection were you solely in charge of her care.”
Leaf laughed, “That she would… but still, it’s just… overwhelming.”
“It is, and the how of it all escapes me even now, but I know it is something that we must do.”
“Together,” Elly added.
Helbram nodded, “Together.”
Leaf shook his headband and chuckled, “Well now I just feel foolish. Onwards then?”
Helbram pointed down the road.
“Onwards.”

Hedge Knight Arc Four: The Cursed Child
End.
First / Previous
Author's Note: And there we have it, the end of another arc. Still not gonna get over how I said this was going to be a shorter one and it somehow matched the last arc in length. Overall I'm happy with how this one turned out. It's smaller stakes than the last arc, but I think it was a good exploration of the characters, especially Jahora, Leon, and Aria, and that's kind of the reason I try and keep things small scale like this. I'm finding myself enjoying the character dynamics more and more as I write this story, and I feel like its important to explore these interactions fully to really build investment not only with the party, but any events that may happen to them. To that end I toned back the action a bit, aside from the duel, so we can have a full explosive finish. One that admittedly mentally fried me as I tried to make sense of all that as happening, but I think I prefer that over having action for action's sake.
But, the story will continue! Lots of threads were thrown out here and I did try to wrap up some of the immediate ones, but there are also plenty that could possibly be explored down the line. The focus will remain on Helbram and his party of course, but I do like giving the sense that there is something else going on within the world beyond what the party is seeing.
Let me know what you thought of this arc! Did you prefer this over the last arc and is there anything that stands out in this arc that you either liked/disliked. I'm always trying to improve and your feedback goes a really long way to making sure this is the best content I can make for you.
Till next time everyone, have a good one!
If you wish to read ahead and gain access to the audiobook version of this story, consider supporting me on Patreon (https://patreon.com/criticalscribe). If you want to leave a donation, here is my Ko-fi (https://ko-fi.com/criticalscribe).

Just recently increased my dose from 150 to 175 (been on zoloft around 9 years). I wanted to see if others have experienced these side effects to hopefully get some shared experiences, because this dosage increase is freakin me out! It’s been a long time since I have increased dosages so kind of forgot the side effects it may bring.

1. This one has been scaring me for sure into thinking I have some neurological issue, my legs feel like jelly. They feel weak and when I’m walking it seems to be more difficult. My arms also feel jelly like, almost like I have 0 strength. This one has caused a spiral!
2. Morning panic attacks :/
3. Feeling out of it, or like “brain fog”
4. Aching muscles/joints especially in the shoulder. Kind of making my arm feel numb? This one also freaks me out.

I am definitely trying to push through, but with health anxiety this has been real fun 😃 thank you guys!

I can’t think of a better term, but I had to bear hug a thick roll of insulation this week, and I had to spread my arms wide apart for a hefty guitar cabinet as well. I’ve found my lower back is aching after these two events, so I’m wondering what I can do to get better at grabbing such hefty things.
I do deadlifts irregularly, but my gym tends to have the platforms full at all times. I normally just do regular weightlifting, been working on pec flys, etc., but I would like to have a better overall “grapple”. Does that make sense?

27M 5'8" 150lbs
Only prior health issue was a mucosil tumor they found in my appendix by chance while doing a colonoscopy; they took out the appendix and part of the cecum.
Current issue:
Began 2 months ago. Started as something with my chest, pains in the left side under the pec and higher on the left side, aching that'd last minutes multiple times a day. Later added smaller pains on the upper right of chest.
Went to my new primary care provider about it, they ran bloodwork and an ekg, said I had an arythmia and that my cholesterol was a little high which is weird because I'm very active. I rock climb, teach dance, lift weights, go on walks often; probably just my diet. So cut out caffeine, alcohol, sweets and red meat and they referred me to a cardiologist who said I was probably fine
THEN, a month ago, I was teaching dance and suddenly got this sinking feeling in my chest and got very weak and felt horrible, not pain, but I almost passed out.
Muscled through the lesson, then sat down for an hour to catch myself. Went home and my girlfriend came over because she was worried. That night, still feeling bad, I had this VERY weird sensation in my left arm up to my head. Not pain, but a hyperawareness of the area? It freaked me out enough to go the the ER. They watched me, gave me muscle relaxers and NSAIDs and told me I was perfectly healthy
Whatever that sinking feeling and arm-thing were, since then my chest has mostly been fine, but it began the awful part two of my symptoms
A lot of pain, frequently, in the front upper abdomin/lower chest on the left side where the ribcage is. I was layed up and the episodes started.
The episodes. I would get pain in that left front area, then I'd feel pain in my left elbow and my hand would clench up, then, my left arm muscle would get extremely tight andId get pain in my fingertips. Then very slight pain in my toes, then the same thing with my right arm; clenched hand, extreme muscled tightness that I'd have to stretch and flex out.
These episodes happened frequently, triggered randomly, or when I bent over onto my left side, and ESPECIALLY when I tried to lay down, I had to start sleeping in a recliner.
I had these episodes for two weeks, within a few days the stiffness made it to my chest. Then my neck and throat which seized up with this stiffness and made it very hard to breathe. I had to swallow and flex and stretch repeatedly to get it working again, I couldn't swallow anything but water. I got my throat free, but purposefully didn't stretch the sides of my neck as an experiment and partly out of fear that whatever was causing it might get to my brian, that stiffness lasted 3 days before I stretched it away.
These episodes hit my face, and I felt my eyes burn, not very painful just irritated; and I'm sure they got to my head but I couldn't feel that I guess.
Two weeks of these episodes, my girlfriend and I had been avoiding sex. We caved once and it had started one of my episodes, and I'd tried to spend the night but laying down caused me to wake up with all arms and legs very stiff and pretty numb.
Doctor ordered me a CT scan. Results said I'm perfectly healthy except for a fatty liver, which my dad had too I guess
Two weeks ago my girlfriend and I had sex again and after that I felt better than I had in a month and a half, literally born again, like something had dislodged in my left side where the pain had been. That spot was a little tender, still is, but I could lay down an move much more freely.
This started the third and current phase of my symptoms.
I still have the episodes, though much less painful in that front left side. But, now my arms feel like they've lost something, especially the left one where the episodes always start. I guess floppy or loose are good words? And if I lay down sometimes they still go numb, especially if I'm laying on them.
Two days ago I was at a bar with my girlfriend's friends. I tried a 0.0% alcohol beer and had some water. About an hour later my throat muscles seize up. Almost like before, but this time i can't stretch it away. I walked around for half an hour trying to stretch them out but it got worse. I told the girlfriend and she met me in the parking lot where I was struggling to breath. We drove to the ER. It resolved itself while we were waiting, came back for a second, then was gone. ER diagnosed me with Esophageal Spasms and referred me to a Gastroenterologist, waiting for Monday to call them
They told me to start tracking my food, meds, and the episodes and tightness. Started yesterday, all day I had booth the stiffness episodes and slight to moderate throat tightness that would abate and return
Neurologist and Gastroenterologist are the next moves. Every doctor, especially my primary, has said I'm perfectly fine; except for this very last ER doc who I talked to for all of 5 minutes
I'm very not fine, I'm kind of better, but I'm very worried that some serious long term shit is happening with me right now and my doctor is asleep at the wheel
Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated, thank you if you read this far, sincerely
Other facts:

• 2 years on Vyvanse for ADHD, lost access, was happily off it for months but the new primary prescribed Guanfacine, been taking that for a few weeks
  
• I've been layed up for a month, pretty sedentary, but I think I've had an increase in appetite
  
• very rarely I'll shit a bit of blood. Not in the stool, seperate. Seemingly at random, idk why, have for years
  
• Appendectomy to remove mucosil tumor, found by chance via colonoscopy
  
• lactose intolerant
  

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

As if in response to his words, the rain began to pour down in torrents. I scanned the area frantically, searching for shelter from the deluge. My eyes landed on a nearby gazebo, its roof providing a semblance of protection from the elements. I pointed it out to Lily and Mark, and without hesitation, we hurried over and huddled together beneath its flimsy shelter.
As we stood there, trying to formulate a plan, I couldn't help but notice the water cascading down from the mountaintop, converging into streams that flowed ominously toward the town below.
"It's going to flood," I stated, my voice trembling with uncertainty. I racked my brain, desperately trying to devise a course of action in the face of impending disaster.
Lily shot me a look of concern, her brows furrowed with worry, while Mark's head whipped around in my direction, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.
"What? How do you know?" Mark demanded, his voice cracking with anxiety.
"Look," I replied, pointing towards the only road leading in and out of the town situated atop the mountain.
As Lily and Mark turned to follow my gaze, their eyes widened in horror. The road had transformed into a raging torrent, resembling more of a waterfall than a thoroughfare.
"Fuck," Mark muttered under his breath, his voice heavy with dread.
"We have to find somewhere elevated, away from the ground," I insisted, scanning our surroundings for potential refuge.
"There!" Lily exclaimed suddenly, pointing towards the Library, which was not far in the distance. Perched on the side of the mountain, it was accessible only via a flight of stairs. Its elevated position promised some degree of safety from the rising waters, and its sturdy roof offered protection from the relentless downpour.
"Okay, let's go!" I declared, breaking into a sprint towards the Library. The building was within reach after just a few minutes of brisk running. As I reached the steps, water cascaded down from above, creating a makeshift waterfall that made the climb treacherous but manageable. Determinedly, I ascended the stairs, each step bringing me closer to safety.
As I reached the top of the stairs and glanced back down, my heart sank at the sight of Lily and Mark still struggling to reach safety. "Let's go! Hurry!" I shouted over the din of the storm, my voice barely audible amidst the howling winds and pounding rain.
Lily dashed towards me with determination, but Mark remained rooted in the spot, paralyzed by fear.
"Mark, come on! Let's go!" I urged, my voice tinged with urgency. But just then, a deafening roar echoed through the valley, freezing us all in our tracks. It was the same roar we'd heard earlier. Still, now it was closer and had a chilling amalgamation of animalistic cries and human-like roars, resonating with an eerie intensity.
Breaking free from the spell of terror, I shouted again, "Come on, Mark! You're almost here!"
As Lily struggled against the rising tide of the cascading water coming down the stairs, I reached out to her, my hand extended in a desperate attempt to pull her to safety. She stumbled, but I managed to grasp her arm and haul her up the rest of the steps.
Glancing down, I saw Mark finally lurch into motion, his movements labored as he fought against the now ankle-deep water. With every step, he seemed to expend what little energy he had left.
"Mark, you can do it! Just a little further!" Lily's voice echoed through the storm, urging him on.
But as Mark neared the stairs, the water flowing down the steps surged with newfound force, threatening to sweep him away. With a burst of adrenaline, he pushed himself forward, his fingers grazing mine for a fleeting moment before the current overwhelmed him.
Helplessly, Lily and I watched as Mark was carried downstream, his screams of terror echoing through the valley. And then, as if summoned by the chaos, a monstrous figure appeared out of the shadows in the street.
Standing tall and menacing amid the storm, it was like something out of a nightmare. A grotesque fusion of man and beast, its black fur matted and patchy, its human-like face contorted into a snarling, canine visage.
As the creature locked eyes with Mark, it lunged forward with terrifying speed, its massive form crashing down upon him in a flurry of claws and fangs. Mark's screams pierced the night air, a haunting symphony of agony and despair that sent shivers down my spine.
Unable to bear the horror unfolding before us, Lily turned away, her face twisted in anguish as she fought back tears. As the creature dragged Mark into the darkness, I felt a cold chill run down my spine, a chilling reminder of the darkness within the heart of the Raven's Nest.
As I watched in horror, the creature tore into Mark's body with savage ferocity, reducing him to nothing more than a bloody mass of flesh. Its eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, sending a chill down my spine as it snatched up what remained of Mark and vanished into the darkness.
With trembling hands, Lily pulled me into the Library and hastily barricaded the door with a bookcase. My mind reeled with shock and disbelief, unable to process the gruesome scene that had just unfolded before my eyes.
"Rory, Rory, snap out of it!" Lily's voice pierced through the fog of my mind, her words a distant echo as I struggled to regain my composure. Her soothing touch and gentle words slowly brought me back to reality, the weight of what had just transpired crashing down upon me like a tidal wave.
I found myself hyperventilating, gasping for air as panic threatened to overwhelm me. Lily held me close, her arms a lifeline amid the chaos, calming my racing heart and guiding me back from the brink of despair.
It wasn't the first time I had experienced such a paralyzing reaction to trauma. The memories of our parents' passing flooded back, the pain and grief still raw after all these years. And now, faced with the brutal reality of Mark's demise, I felt myself slipping into that familiar state of shock once again.
Lily's tears mingled with mine as we huddled on the cold library floor, seeking solace in each other's embrace. The distant sounds of the monster devouring its prey served as a grim reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond our makeshift barricade.
In that moment of despair, all we could do was hold onto each other, finding strength in our shared grief and determination to survive. But deep down, I knew that the nightmare was far from over and that the horrors of the Raven's Nest had only begun.
Lily drifted off into sleep relatively quickly. She needed the rest; despite being twenty-seven, she was still young, and the day's events had taken their toll on her. I couldn't help but reminisce about our childhood memories when I used to affectionately refer to her as "Lil Sister." Those memories brought a sense of comfort amidst the chaos, and as I dwelled on them, I felt myself being pulled into the embrace of sleep.
Before long, I, too, succumbed to exhaustion, the weight of the day finally catching up with me. As I drifted off into slumber, memories of simpler times danced through my mind, mingling with the events of the present in a surreal dreamscape. And as the tendrils of sleep enveloped me, I found solace in the fleeting moments of tranquility amidst the chaos of the Raven's Nest.
I bolted awake at the sound of crashing, instantly alert and searching for Lily in the darkness. My eyes hadn't yet adjusted, so I fumbled in my bag for a flashlight, my heart pounding with anxiety. As the beam of light pierced the darkness, I swept it around the room, desperately seeking any sign of my sister. Then, another crash echoed from the direction of the basement stairs, labeled ominously in the dim light.
Normally, I'd have hesitated to descend into such a foreboding place, but with Lily missing, I had no choice. Slowly, cautiously, I made my way down the stairs, the beam of light casting eerie shadows on the damp walls.
The sound of running water grew louder with each step, and when I rounded the corner, I was met with the sight of the flooded basement. Something stirred in the murky depths, a figure moving in the dim light at the room's far end. My heart raced as I approached, the water sloshing around my ankles with each step. And then, in the faint glow of the flashlight, I saw her: Lily, struggling against an unseen force, her movements frantic and desperate.
I waded through the waist-deep water, my movements sluggish against the pressure, trying to reach Lily as she struggled against something unseen. The rustling and grunting ceased as I pushed forward, the urgency building with each step.
"Lily, what's going on?" I called out, my voice strained with concern.
"Rory?" Lily's voice came from the other end of the room, surprisingly calm.
Finally reaching her, I found Lily hidden behind a stack of boxes, her attention fixed on a metal ammunition box she'd uncovered.
"What the hell are you doing?" I whispered urgently.
"Maybe there's something in here we can use against... whatever the fuck that thing is," Lily replied, her voice tinged with desperation as she attempted to pry the box open, to no avail.
"Bring it upstairs, and maybe we can find something to open it," I suggested in a hushed tone, my nerves on edge as I scanned our surroundings for any sign of danger.
Lily's frustration seemed to dissipate into resignation as she met my gaze. Together, we began to wade back through the flooded basement, our senses heightened by the impending danger. Suddenly, the tranquility of our surroundings shattered as the front door upstairs, our only means of escape out of the building, sounded like it was violently torn from its hinges, the sound echoing through the basement like a harbinger of doom.
The heavy, ominous footsteps of the creature reverberated through the air, accompanied by the unsettling growl of its breath. It was clear that our presence had been detected, and the beast was now descending into the basement, drawing closer with each passing moment. Panic seized me as I realized the gravity of our situation - we were trapped, with nowhere to run and the relentless pursuit of the unknown closing in on us.
"Shh..." I hushed urgently, motioning for Lily to hide behind the boxes with me as the ominous sound of the creature's approach grew nearer. Despite the impending danger, Lily remained fixated on the ammunition box, her determination evident in her efforts to unlock it quietly.
"Stop," I whispered with growing frustration, attempting to draw her attention away from the futile task. However, it seemed as though she was wholly absorbed in her mission, impervious to my attempts to redirect her focus. Desperation gnawed at me as I realized the precariousness of our situation, with the creature closing in and Lily oblivious to the imminent threat, likely due to the shock of the day's events.
The monster's presence in the basement sent a chill down my spine as I peered cautiously from behind the boxes, taking in its imposing figure. Despite the water being waist deep for me, the creature waded through effortlessly, its massive form towering over us. Its keen senses were evident as it sniffed the air, detecting our presence with unsettling accuracy.
As Lily's persistent efforts finally paid off and the box squeaked open, her triumphant expression quickly shifted to one of realization and dread as the monster roared in response. The deafening sound reverberated through the basement, causing me to instinctively cover my ears in a futile attempt to block it out. Amidst the roar, I could discern an underlying tone that chilled me to the core—a human-like cry buried within the beast's primal roar, as if someone were pleading for mercy.
With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I lunged to the side, pulling Lily with me as we narrowly avoided the charging monster. For a moment, I thought we had escaped unharmed, but my relief turned to horror when Lily's scream pierced the air. Glancing down, my heart sank as I witnessed the gruesome sight—her leg had been violently torn from her body, leaving a trail of blood that tainted the water around us, a vivid crimson. The agony etched on her face mirrored the shock and helplessness I felt at that moment.
The sight before me was a nightmare made real. My mind recoiled at the grotesque spectacle unfolding as the monster tore into Lily's severed leg with savage abandon. Blood sprayed in every direction, mingling with the water to create a chilling tableau of horror. Each crunch and tear of flesh echoed in the cramped basement, a grotesque symphony of violence.
For a moment, I was frozen in shock, unable to comprehend the sheer brutality of what I was witnessing. It felt like time had slowed to a crawl, trapping me in this macabre scene of primal savagery. The monster's inhuman appetite seemed insatiable as it devoured Lily's flesh from her forcefully amputated leg, indifferent to her screams of agony as she lay not even fifteen feet away from it, screaming in pain.
As I watched in horrified fascination, a sickening realization dawned on me: we were not dealing with a mere beast but a predator driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh. And if I didn't act fast, Lily wouldn't be the only victim of its ravenous appetite.
With grim determination, I focused on the task at hand. Ignoring the nauseating sight of Lily's mangled leg, I reached for her, gripping her arm tightly. She cried out in pain as I hoisted her out of the water, her screams echoing in the basement.
"Come on, Lily, we need to go," I urged, my voice tinged with urgency. Ignoring the searing pain in her eyes, she nodded weakly, her face contorted in agony.
Together, we staggered towards the stairs, every step a Herculean effort against the overwhelming tide of fear and despair. The monster continued its grisly feast behind us, the sounds of its feasting driving us forward with a renewed sense of urgency.
I stumbled over an unseen obstacle beneath the water's surface, sending Lily and me plunging into the cold, dark depths. The shock of the fall stole my breath, and for a moment, disorientation clouded my senses as we struggled to regain our footing.
Frantically, I reached out in the darkness, my hands grasping for Lily's form as water rushed into my nose and mouth. With a surge of panic, I managed to find her, clutching onto her tightly as we resurfaced, coughing and sputtering.
As we gasped for air, I felt the weight of Lily's body in my arms, and with every ounce of strength I could muster, I began to drag her toward the stairs as she floated.
Struggling to hoist her up, I noticed the severity of Lily's injury more clearly. Her left leg was missing from the knee down, torn off in a gruesome manner. Each time I dragged her up a step, her bloody stump thudded against the hard surface, eliciting agonizing screams from her. Finally, we reached the corner of the stairs, where I adjusted her position to navigate the new angle.
As we turned the corner and I struggled to hoist Lily onto the first step of this new and longer set of stairs, the thunderous approach of the monster echoed through the basement, intensifying with each passing moment. Though I couldn't see it, the sound of its sprinting footsteps through the water and heavy breathing grew louder, signaling its imminent arrival. Fueled by adrenaline, I tugged harder on Lily's collar, the urgency of escape overriding any concerns about her injury. All that mattered now was getting her to safety before the creature reached us.
As we ascended, almost halfway now, I caught sight of the creature turning the corner. Its rapid pace caused it to collide with the wall, the force denting the cement as it rebounded. The sight filled me with a surge of terror, propelling me to pull Lily with renewed urgency. For a moment, she felt weightless in my grasp as I almost dragged her completely up the stairs, driven by sheer determination. Yet, as my grip faltered, I felt her slipping from my hold.
The moisture from the rain and flooding had made my hands slippery. Everything seemed to unfold in agonizing slow motion as Lily tumbled down the stairs, her descent helpless and inevitable. In the blink of an eye, the monster pounced upon her, its ferocious hunger driving it to begin devouring her without hesitation. Frozen at the top of the stairs, I watched in horror, my gaze alternating between the gruesome spectacle unfolding below and my wet, pruned hands, feeling utterly powerless to intervene.
The monster's gaze briefly flickered toward me as if acknowledging my presence for the first time since it began its grisly meal. Another thunderous roar erupted from its throat, prompting me to instinctively cover my ears. Again, I could have sworn I heard a desperate man screaming when the thing roared.
With a surge of adrenaline, I dashed up the final step and slammed the door shut behind me, shutting out the horrifying scene below.
As I fled through the unlit and dark town, I encountered areas still very submerged by the flooding, forcing me to swim through the murky waters in a desperate bid for escape. As I sprinted through the town, the absence of rainfall struck me. How long had it been since the downpour ceased? How long had I been asleep? Time seemed distorted, the day's events blending into a surreal blur. I pressed on, my only focus now: finding a way out of this nightmare.
After what felt like an eternity of navigating through the flooded streets, with every step weighed down by the relentless rainwater, I finally reached the end of the main paved road, where it transitioned into the dirt path leading to the mine—the sole exit out of town. The dark, murky, muddy path stretched ahead, promising a treacherous journey. The thick sludge threatened to swallow any misstep, making each footfall precarious.
As I stood there, catching my breath and surveying the daunting path ahead, the distant echo of the monster's roar pierced the eerie silence. It was a chilling reminder that danger lurked nearby, urging me to push forward despite the obstacles ahead.
By the time I reached Lily's jeep, I had lost both my shoes to the road and was caked in the thick, clinging mud. I swung open the jeep door, my heart racing with the anticipation of escape, only to be met with the realization that I didn't have the key. Frustration boiled over, and I cursed loudly, slamming the door shut in a fit of anger.
Then, a flicker of memory illuminated my mind: Lily's old jeep, a '95 Jeep Wrangler. We had discovered soon after she bought it that, true to its shoddy nature, it could be started with nothing more than a screwdriver in the ignition.
In a frantic search, my eyes darted around the muddy surroundings, desperate for any sign of a tool or implement that could help me start Lily's jeep. The sound of the monster's roar reverberated in the air, closer now, sending shivers down my spine. Every second felt like an eternity as I scoured the area, my heart pounding with fear and adrenaline.
Peering down the muddy road, I spotted the lumbering figure of the monster struggling to ascend. Its massive form sank into the mud with each step, hindering its progress as its feet and hands became mired in the thick, sticky terrain. Relief washed over me as I realized this bought me precious moments, a brief respite in my frantic escape.
I decide to look inside the car as I frantically rummage through the cluttered middle console of the car, my heart pounding against my ribcage. Every second felt like an eternity as I searched desperately for anything that could start the engine. Amidst the chaos of scattered items—a map, an old CD case, a jumble of charging cables—I felt my fingers close around something solid.
Pulling it out, I found a weathered Swiss Army knife, its metal casing worn and scratched from years of use. I unfolded the blade with trembling hands and positioned it carefully within the ignition. The familiar weight of the blade grounded me amid panic as I turned it, hoping against hope that it would work.
The engine sputtered to life after a few tense moments, its roar filling the confined space of the jeep. Relief flooded through me, mingled with uncertainty about what lay ahead. As I glanced up, I caught sight of the approaching monster, its massive form looming closer with each passing second.
With a quick intake of breath, I slammed the car into reverse, the tires spinning in the thick mud before gaining traction. The jeep lurched backward, leaving deep tracks in its wake as I raced away from The Raven's Nest.
The memories of that fateful day haunted me for years, a constant reminder of the horrors that lurked within The Raven's Nest. I tried to seek justice and warn others of the danger lurking in that cursed town, but each attempt fell on deaf ears.
As the years passed, I became increasingly disillusioned with my futile attempts to bring the truth to light. It wasn't that no one believed me; I knew too much. The secrets of The Raven's Nest ran deep, intertwined with the very fabric of the town's existence.
Authorities dismissed my claims as the ramblings of a troubled mind, unwilling or unable to acknowledge the darkness that permeated every corner of that forsaken place. And so, I resigned myself to the fact that some truths were better left buried, that the secrets of The Raven's Nest were meant to remain hidden.
In the quiet moments of solitude, I ponder the events of that harrowing day, eight years distant yet still vivid in my memory. I often wonder about those cameras we had installed, silent sentinels bearing witness to the horrors of The Raven's Nest. Do they still perch in their hidden alcoves, their lenses trained on the dormant secrets within those cursed streets?
The temptation to return, to retrieve that footage and unveil the truth to the world, is a constant tug at the edges of my consciousness. If only I could lay my hands on that evidence, undeniable proof of the malevolent forces that lurk in the shadows. But with each passing thought, a shiver courses down my spine, a reminder of the dread that still clings to the very mention of that forsaken place.
And so, the footage remains abandoned, lost to time and neglect, much like the town itself, swallowed by the unforgiving embrace of the valley. Perhaps some mysteries are best left buried, their secrets guarded by the silent guardians of the past.
I find myself consumed by a profound sense of guilt, particularly regarding Mark's tragic fate. I remember vividly the day we met at the museum, his genuine curiosity and eagerness to explore the town's history. Little did he know the peril that awaited us all. I can't help but feel responsible for leading him into that nightmare. It was a gruesome scene, etched into my memory with agonizing clarity. I watched in horror as the creature pounced on him, its razor-sharp claws tearing through flesh and bone with merciless efficiency. The sound of his screams still echoes in my ears, a chilling symphony of agony that pierces through the silence of my nightmares. At that moment, I was powerless to save him, gripped by a paralyzing terror that rendered me immobile. His death is a burden I carry with me always, a heavy weight that serves as a constant reminder of the price we paid for venturing into the heart of darkness.
I often find myself wondering about our parents' untimely departure, leaving behind a chasm filled with unanswered questions and aching longing. In the quiet of the night, I ponder how they would have reacted to my tale—of Lily's tragic end, of the nightmares we encountered in that desolate town. Would they have believed my words? Would they have comprehended the depth of my sorrow, the burden of guilt for failing to shield their cherished daughter?
In my heart, I carry the weight of my dear sister Lily's untimely demise. Her laughter, warmth, and unwavering spirit are now lost to the darkness that enveloped that cursed town. Each day, I long to see her smile once more, to hear her voice echoing in the halls of our shared memories. Yet, I know she is gone, forever lost to the merciless jaws of that insatiable beast. The memory of her screams, the sight of her torn body, they etch themselves into my soul, a painful reminder of the fragility of life and the cruelty of fate.
Lily's injury and her agonizing screams echo incessantly in the corridors of my mind, haunting me like a relentless specter. The memory of that moment is etched into my consciousness with vivid, excruciating detail—the sight of her torn leg, the gushing crimson of her blood staining the murky waters, and the raw, visceral sound of her screams reverberating through the air. Each time I close my eyes, I am transported back to that harrowing scene, unable to escape the overwhelming sense of helplessness that washed over me. Her pain, her fear, her desperation—all of it lingers like a scar on my soul, a constant reminder of the horrors we endured in that forsaken place.

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

Not super concerning, but i keep getting pains in my upper arms and sometimes lower arms. It aches for maybe ten seconds before going away. It reminds me of the type of pain you have after a vaccination. Not worried about it, but wondering if this is normal

WARNING: This is classified as a fan-fiction in the Hazbin Hotel world. I know FF is frowned upon by many. This story is set 99% in an original world with only one HH character as a major character. The story is original, the world is mine, as well as the OCs.
Title: Angel's Demon
Word Count: 136,466
Genres: Supernatural ThrilleRomance
Audience: 16+
Trigger Warnings: Violence, Death, Gore, Sexual assault/molestation (implied only), Sexual situations (On page), profanity, drinking, smoking. (TBH, it just clicked how dark this sounds)
Feedback requested: Obvious plot holes. Missing details (I know for a fact I need to add descriptive text for character introductions during revisions), the fact that I have sections that change from present to past tense (I know of a few but getting them all pointed out as I begin working on editing will be SO welcomed) Confusion about action/events. and I welcome suggestions to add details to certain situations to flesh out what may seem lacking (A battle between two demons is far shorter than I'd intended, and will likely improve that as well) As for grammar, spelling and so on; I have a couple of programs that point those out. If anyone were to say 'Hey, let me edit for you'.. after four months of writing.. I'd scream yes.
Summary: Kevin Collins, AKA "Angel" Is an ex-special forces ranger turned tracker. His self imposed mission; to find and rescue lost, kidnapped and exploited children. On one of his missions, he stumbles upon an injured woman. Believing she's a victim who escaped, he takes her to his van and dresses her wounds, asking who she is. She says her name is Charlotte, but she can't remember anything else. She asks how he found her, and he explains what he's there for. When she learns that children are in danger, she changes into a demon; something that scares the both of them. She begs Angel to not abandon her, and offers to use her powers to help him on his mission. He agrees, and so begins their journey to save souls, discover her past and in the process; fall in love. However, their journey will attract the attention of an evil so great, it threatens to rip them apart and make Charlotte into the most dangerous demon on Earth.
Scene Summary: Charlotte's first semi- solo mission to find and rescue a lost child in the mountains. (chapter 6)
Seconds had ticked by and Charlotte was already ahead of the groups that had begun to fan out. She cleared 50 yards ahead and stopped. Closing her eyes, she inhaled as deeply as she could and was greeted with a barrage of smells. Trees, bushes, animals, flowers, insects.. she could detect them all. But the scent of the boy was absent. Determined, she began to run, her cloven feet deftly carrying her over fallen branches, jagged trails and she moved in a wide zig-zag pattern, covering a lot of distance in minutes. Stopping at a sound she hadn’t quite picked up before, she closed her eyes and recognized a river, flowing fast in the distance south of her. She took another strong whiff and was greeted by the scent of water, algae, fish, mud and..
Her eyes snapped open. The boy’s scent was mixed into the rolling smells of the river! Turning towards the strongest of the smells, she picked up her pace and raced towards the river, opening up all of her senses to their max. In moments, she stood on the bank and looked down at the rushing waters. The sun had faded and now with the overcast clouds, twilight was taking hold. Darting her eyes and inhaling as deep as she could, she picked up two things; the scent of fear and distant crying.
“Angel?” She whispered into the headset. In took a couple of beats, and she heard his smooth voice.
“I’m here. Had to move away a bit from the others first. You have something?”
“I got his scent! I can’t tell how far off he is, but I think he’s in the river!”
Angel hissed urgently, “Go! Find him!”
She didn’t give a response as her legs started moving. Heart aching, Charlotte followed the scent and sound for nearly 300 yards down river, having now gone out of the search grid area. Thanks to her demon form, she alighted over the rough terrain, her eyes wide to let all the possible light in and give her a clear view of her surroundings. A quick pause to listen, the sounds of crying now lapped over the sounds of the river and she honed in.
Stepping over a ridge of an embankment, she looked down into the rushing water and there was the boy, stuck in a fallen tree that was a third of the way into the fast moving river. She quickly accessed that he had to have fallen in some place upstream and got carried to this spot, catching the tree to stop himself, but the water was too fast for him to pull himself out. She could tell he was fading, fast. If she didn’t get him out, he’d drown.
“Angel!” She radioed, “I found him! I found him! Track the tag! I have to get him out, now!”
“I’m coming!” Angel’s voice affirmed, with a hint of pride for her, and she clicked off the radio and looked around, seeing what she could do.
“Fuck, if only I had wings!” She cursed her limitations, but pushed it aside as she needed to rely on what she did have. Moving down to the edge of the river, Charlotte saw that he was out of her reach by some twenty feet. Testing the strength of the fallen tree, she tentatively started to crawl out but could only get half way when she heard snapping. The tree was not going to hold her weight if she went any further. Quickly thinking, Charlotte wrapped her demon tail around a thicker branch and slipped into the rushing water, the force more than she anticipated and it knocked her against the tree.
“OOMPH!” She let out a pained shout and the boy looked her way, eyes bloodshot from crying and let out a fearful whimper. Cursing herself again, she bit her lip and reached out for him. She knew he'd be scared at the feeling but if she could carry him around the tree and swim him to shore, maybe he’d think he got a current to lead him ashore.
Charlotte reached out but he was still out of her reach and she couldn’t get closer. She saw a six foot thick branch, broken off from the tree, lodged in among the other branches and thought if only she’d grabbed it first, she could reach him with it. She stared at the branch for an infinite but split second moment, wishing she had it and then she felt something solid in her clawed hand.
The branch she wanted had blinked out of it’s lodged spot to reappear in her grip, conjured as if by magic. Charlotte gasped. How? How!? She pushed the question aside and slipped the branch through the water until it nudged the boy. Would he grab it? She took a chance. “Grab the branch.” She spoke just loud enough for him to hear.
“Wha..?” He couldn’t say much else, his strength was giving out, and he was losing consciousness.
“Please, sweetie, grab hold… trust me.. please.. please.”
Subconsciously, he did as she asked and she pulled steady and firmly those frightening last few feet against the force of the river and brought him to her. She retracted her claws, letting her human hands take over and she grabbed him and pulled him to her. He was out, his body having given up and she put all of her strength into her tail and it pulled her till she could get her waist above the torrent of water. Lifting the boy into her arms and growling deep, she lunged and landed them roughly on the mud and sludge of the river’s edge. She flipped onto her back, the boy held in her tight embrace and she lay on her back, breathing hard, energy spent and she started crying.
He heard him take in a shuddering breath, followed by regular breathing and she cried harder, holding him close and comforting. I won’t let anything happen to you, she thought. I won’t let anything happen to ANYONE! She declared to herself.
She lost track of how long she lay there, body pressed into the cold wet mud, her cloven hooves splashed with lapping water at the river’s edge, but her ears picked up Angel nearing her and she sniffled in relief. She looked up over above and behind her as falling dirt signaled Angel’s arrival at the edge of the embankment.
Angel saw the boy suspended inches above the mud, as if floating and he slid down to kneel next to him and Charlotte’s invisible form.
“You okay?” He whispered.
Charlotte’s wet filled throat croaked back, exhausted “Take him.”
Angel slid his arms under the boy, sliding over Charlotte’s body and she closed her eyes, grateful for his touch and he lifted the boy up and off of her. He stood, boy cradled in his arms, and looked down at the human shaped indent in the mud.
“You can come out.”
The mud shifted but Charlotte didn’t appear.
“I.. I’ll meet you back at the van.”
The tone in her voice told Angel all he needed to know, and without another word, Angel took the boy and began the trek back to meeting spot.
When Angel had moved a distance away, Charlotte finally pulled herself to her feet and wrapped her arms around herself, and felt the sludge slide down her back, her blonde hair nearly a fully dyed shit-brown, and shivered in the growing cold. Taking slow deep breaths, Charlotte pulled at her demon powers and her body began to sizzle, steam rising up off her body, both warming her and drying her. She was still so dirty but the chill in her bones had gone. The few moments alone allowed her to regain her composure, and with a crack of her neck, she turned and took off at a full run, and headed back to the van.

Warum ist die Geburt so eine Qual? Obwohl doch Gott so weise ist? Das fragt sich jeder Gläubige mal, hat gute Antworten sicher vermisst.
Die Antwort der Bibel lautet: Verflucht! Doch ist Generalverfluchung gerecht? Wenn Adam und Eva den Herrn versucht, dann geht es allen für immer schlecht?
Gerecht ist es, so grausam zu sein? Und hat er Eva nicht gleich so gebaut? Ohne Fluch schon ist das Becken - schmerzhaft klein! Er hat sie wohl scharfsinnig umgebaut!
Ansonsten wär der Fluch nur Vorwand gewesen Ausrede für ein verkorkstes Design! Für ein armes, gebeuteltes, kluges Wesen, kann das doch keine Antwort sein!
Doch nein - der Mensch er ist geduldig! Alles wird richtig, solang man es glaubt! Der Gruppe, den Priestern wird gehuldigt! Selbst wenn das die Durchsicht raubt!
Die Gruppe, ach die Gruppe ja! Doch nur die Einzelnen haben Verstand! Für die Gruppe bleibt nur der Glaube da, und für den springen Gruppen gern über den Rand
doch nicht über den Abgrund, sondern hinab! Sie brechen gemeinsam gern Ihr Genick! Sie brechen sich gern alle Zweifel ab, nennen dumme Zahmheit - ihr höchstes Glück!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Things have become complicated recently and that’s saying something considering what we’ve been through up until now. We needed to set out early to avoid Mrs. Sheaver and her goons. Before we did, we snuck over to Roscoe’s place. His apartment number was on his house key so it wasn’t hard to find. Upon stepping inside, we were greeted by the site of several hunting rifles resting by the couch.
“That checks out,” Van said.
I went to check Roscoe’s room while Drake went into the kitchen.
“He's got some leftover pizza. Wait, no never mind, it's gone bad.”
Over Roscoe's bed hung a painting of Donald Trump. This wasn't surprising. I went to his closet, opened it, and found several sleeping bags and camping packs there. I came back into the living room with them.
“Hey, I think we can use these,” I said, tossing one to Drake and another to Van.
The former caught it and the other fumbled, dropping it. He squatted to pick it up.
“Gus?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you seen the kitchen? Roscoe had a ton of bottled water for some reason.”
“Oh yeah, I think he mentioned one time that he heard water from the sink makes you gay. I can't lie. He was weird.”
“Yeah, so you want to grab some cases?”
“I can carry a few. Just keep an eye out for trouble.”
I stacked some and lifted them. We also found some metal thermos cups that Van held onto.
“I don't see anyone,” he said after stepping outside.
We followed him out, making our way to the Hummer. Drake had his gun in hand and was behind us constantly looking over his shoulder. We got to the Hummer and unlocked it. That's when a bullet whizzed past my temple and hit one of the tail lights.
“So you were holding out on us,” Mrs. Sheaver screamed from her kitchen window.
“Fuck, get inside now,” Drake yelled.
Yanking the doors open, we threw our stuff in before jumping inside ourselves. In the rearview, we could see the rest of our neighbors armed with bats and pipes chasing after us.
“Start the fucking car,” I urged, and then another hole formed in the back windshield.
Drake cranked the ignition and backed up. Then we were out of there like cows escaping a slaughterhouse. We didn't even slow down when we came to the gate. Drake crashed right through it as the screams of Mrs. Sheaver and the others became faint cries.
“Okay, so we're on track for the most part,” I said. “Do you think the convenience store is too close now? I don't want them coming after us.”
“Guys?” We heard Van interject.
We glanced in the rearview again to see several cars gaining on us. The one at the front was a van being driven by Mrs. Sheaver.
“Oh my God,” Drake said. “Gus, lock and load.”
“Already on it. Be mindful of the tires.”
I loaded a rifle and got ready. The sound of metal on metal echoed throughout the car as we were being fired at. Drake tried taking several turns to lose them, but they stayed on our tail. I took a deep breath, then aimed out of one of the windows and shot at one car's tires. I made my mark, resulting in it swerving and crashing into another vehicle.
Both spun out of control until it was only Mrs. Sheaver left.
“Hold still,” she yelled over the rushing wind. “My eyes aren't what they used to be.”
Unfortunately for her, there was a pothole in the road. It damaged her front tire, causing her to swerve and plow straight into a tree at full speed. We stopped just in time to see it come crashing down, breaking through her windshield.
“God damn,” Drake said.
“I mean, she might still be alright,” I commented.
The tree had gone through some wires. One of them fell on a branch, setting it ablaze.
“Well, at least it was quick.”
“Oh Christ, I'm burning,” Mrs. Sheaver shrieked.
We sat there in silence listening before her cries died down.
“Drake, what time is it?” I asked.
“About twelve till six.”
Today was going to be a long day. We got back on track with our plan and proceeded to the convenience store. We got out and surveyed the damage.
“This thing's tough,” I said.
“Does anyone want to talk about how messed up that all was?” Van asked.
“Yeah, it was pretty fucked,” Drake replied, “but what's done is done. Let's grab what we can and get out of here.”
We tried the door, finding it was unlocked. Inside, a far-from-pretty sight was waiting for us. Blood stains covered the wall behind the counter. Out of morbid curiosity, I peeked over it, seeing only a hand and a shoe with the foot still attached. A shudder ran through me.
“Hey, Gus, what do you see back there?” Van asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
We started surveying what would be best to bring with us.
“I think we should focus on protein,” I said.
“Like trail mix?” Drake replied. “It’s got fruit too.”
“I hate trail mix, too many raisins,” Van complained.
“What about these?” I asked, cocking a thumb to some protein bars.
Something else caught my eye.
“Hang on,” I said, bending over and picking something up. “We can’t be caught dead without this.”
I held up a pack of toilet paper.
“Good thinking,” Drake said, “Van, grab some, will you?”
Van stared down at it with a grimace.
“I bet it feels like sandpaper,” he grumbled but began gathering as many as he could anyway.
While he did, we filled our three bags with what we could. Then we took everything back to the Hummer and got back on the road.
“Hey, Drake?” I said as he was closing the trunk.
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking. If this works and we make it out of here, we’re not exactly going to be well off afterward. Do you think maybe we should see if a store happens to have some loose change lying around if you catch my drift?”
I gestured to the convenience store. About six minutes later, we were driving down the road.
“So there was about six hundred bucks in the register which makes two hundred for each of us,” I said, “and there’s more in the safe if we can get it open.
The safe was in the back next to Van.
“I can’t believe you guys stole this from the store.”
“It’s not like anyone’s using it,” Drake said. “Besides, the guy who ran the place was stingy as hell. One time, he tried to charge me double on something. I had to argue with him about it for two minutes straight so we aren’t beating ourselves up about this.”
“How do you think we should get it open?” I asked.
“I don’t know. We’ll figure something out.”.
We guessed that there were blockades set up at every exit out of town. We also assumed that there would be more people active where we tried to get out last time. Instead of going there, we went to the woods on the opposite side of town.
“Remember, there’s no turning back after this,” Drake said, “so only take the necessities. I still want to see about opening the safe, though.”
While he was talking, I was glancing among the trees. One of them seemed odd to me and swayed strangely in the wind. Then I realized with a chill that it was moving.
“Lanker,” I choked out.
Drake and Van turned in time to see it sprinting out of the woods. In a flash, it was to us. We got out of the way as it swiped at us with one of its clawed hands. Its nails dug into the Hummer’s back door, yanking it out. I was thinking maybe if we kept still and tried to keep from shitting ourselves, it would go away.
Drake, thankfully seemed to be on the same wavelength as me. Van, however, was not. He screamed, darting away. The lanker pursued him, giving us time to arm ourselves. As Van was circling back around, we raised our weapons, squeezing the triggers. As soon as it was focused on us, we knew to split up to divert its attention.
Drake managed to get some shots into it before he had to retreat. While the lanker went after him, I aimed at its legs. This appeared effective as it let out a cry of pain that sounded like when a microphone is held up to a speaker. The good news was it was no longer after Drake. The bad news was I was now its target.
“Drake, shoot it in the back of its knees,” I yelled, sprinting as fast as I could.
I slid under the Hummer and came out the other side. In spur-of-the-moment planning on my part, I opened the back door and slammed it shut. This succeeded in fooling the lanker as I snuck behind it, getting its weak spot point blank. Unfortunately, I misjudged the distance. The next thing I knew, it was swinging at me with an object in hand.
I managed to raise my gun to block it and if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be writing this. Wood splintered as it was broken in half. I observed the world doing several cartwheels as I was rolling along the ground before coming to a stop at the base of a tree.
“Gus,” Drake yelled.
The pain was so immense I couldn’t even get a breath out. The Lanker was about to rip into me until Drake distracted it.
“Guys,” Van cried out in alarm.
I tilted my head up, seeing a metric shit load of zombies racing towards us.
“Welp, we're fucked,” I thought.
In an unexpected turn of events, though, the lanker was now shrieking at them. It went after them, grabbing two by their heads, crushing them like watermelons under a hydraulic press. I took the opportunity to examine where I'd been struck. Touching my abdomen yielded pain. Thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken, just some bruising I would need to deal with later.
Guess I got lucky in that I was knocked away instead of grabbed. If the lanker was smarter, this would be a different story. The other zombies were crawling all over it, gnawing as they did. A crawler saw me in a vulnerable state and tried capitalizing on the opportunity. It pounced and my butt clenched. Then a bullet went through its head. Drake rushed over, helping me up.
“Thanks again, man.”
“No problem.”
“Let's run into the woods while they're occupied,” Van said.
“But our stuff is over there,” I told him. “We won't last long without it.”
We both looked at Drake.
“Let's see how this plays out a little longer,” he said.
For a while, it seemed that the lanker would be the victor. Then its knees buckled as they were chewed through. We watched on, mouths agape. In a move of desperation, it picked the safe back up, swinging it wildly. The zombies previously all over the lanker were now a red paste and it was crawling feebly on the ground.
“I got this,” Drake said.
He went over to it and shot at its legs, blowing them off. It tried swiping at him, but he'd already backed away. It attempted to stand on its stumps. When it lifted its head, Drake jammed the barrel of his gun down its throat, pulling the trigger. With a last twitch, it was no longer a threat.
“Are you sure it's dead?” Van asked.
“I blew out the back of its head. Of course, it's dead,” Drake replied, then threw a rock at the lanker to be sure.
“Yep, as a doornail.”
Drake came over and helped me up.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“I'll live.”
“Good, let's get our things.”
Van was already doing that.
“My God is this heavy,” he grunted as he pulled it onto his back.
“Get used to it,” Drake told him.
I glanced around in case we'd have to deal with any more unexpected threats and that's when I noticed the dented-to-shit safe lying on its side with the door open. It didn't take long to count the money inside. There was a little over eight thousand in cash that we divided among the three of us. Thus, our hike began at last. We walked for eight hours, encountering zombies along the way.
Most of the time it was simple to pick them off. The biggest problem came when some tried attacking us from above. I am so glad me and Drake's reflexes are on point. Something unusual we stumbled upon is that whatever has been zombifying people has spread to animals. Long story short, there was a zombie grizzly bear ripping into another bear and its cubs. We thought we would have to deal with this monstrosity.
Luckily, it didn't appear to find us appetizing. That said, it was emitting a deep growl after it noticed us so we got the message to steer clear of it. Eventually, Van told us his feet were aching and suggested we should rest.
“I guess we can stop for a bit,” I said. “Right, Drake?”
“Sure, I was getting hungry anyway.”
We sat down, setting up our packs to rest against. Me and Drake took out some trail mix while Van unwrapped a protein bar.
“Hey,” he said to us, “I got some of these if you want to add them to your water.”
He held up some flavoring packets.
“Hell yeah,” Drake replied, “Toss them here.”
“Actually, I was thinking I could take care of it for you while you guys set up camp since it's going to be dark in a couple of hours.”
“Good point. Gus, help me gather some firewood.”
We did so and threw them into a pile. Van came back up to us with our thermos cups.
“Drake, yours is blue raspberry and Gus, yours is green apple.”
We thanked him and enjoyed the rest of our meal. Halfway through my drink, I was feeling lightheaded.
“Hey, Drake, do I look alright?” I turned to him and noticed he too was in the same condition as me.
“I don't…” he replied with his voice trailing off.
We passed out. When we awoke it was dark and Drake was cussing up a storm.
“What happened?” I asked, shaking off my fatigue.
“That son of a bitch robbed us,” Drake replied. “Look.”
He showed me our wallets which were stripped of cash.
“And he left this.”
I was handed a crumpled piece of paper with this message crudely written on it.
“Sorry to do this. Years working for the mayor have taught me people can be bribed so that's what I'm doing. You won't find me again, but I wish you the best of luck.”
I clenched my fist around it.
“He robbed us.”
“Yeah, I just said that.”
“Well, what do we do now?”
“Get moving, I guess. Can't believe this. How do we get our shit stolen twice in two days?”
We wondered how Van would survive on his own. Then again, he did have a snack for avoiding trouble as he was able to before we bumped into him. After walking for some time, we saw an orange light in the distance.
“I think that's a campfire,” I exclaimed. “Do you think it might be Van?”
“If it is, I'm going to have some words for him,” Drake replied, patting his holstered handgun.
We stepped into the clearing to find a bunch of people standing around a bonfire. They were wearing hooded white robes and turned when they heard us.
“Oh shit, it's the fucking Klan. Drake, get behind me,” I urged, stepping in front of me.
One of them stepped forward, revealing the face of a grinning man.
“Worry not, friends. You have no reason to fear us.”
He explained that his name was Jeff and he founded their group, cult really, of survivors and they called themselves The Uplagued. Every one of them smiled from ear to ear and asked us if we wanted to stay.
“No disrespect, we'd love to, but we need to keep moving,” Drake told them.
“That's a shame,” Jeff responded. “We were about to pass around the calumet.”
For those who don't know, that's another word for the peace pipe used by the natives. Drake and I exchanged a look. Ten minutes later, we were sitting in a smoke circle. When Drake's turn came, he took a rip from it worthy of a dragon about to breathe fire. I got in a good one when my turn came.
Now, I'm high as the moon typing this on my phone. After what we've been through today, it's nice to have something to take the edge off. I'm not sure what we're going to do about our financial situation if we make it out. Hopefully, we come up with something. For now, the munchies are calling my name.

I've been experiencing an awful bout of heartburn and trapped gas. I feel the pain radiating from my left arm to a burning sensation in the middle of my chest. I've been unable to pass gas for more than two weeks now and it's getting worse. I've made a doctor's appointment but she can't see me until the end of the month.
I wanted to try Gas X but I'm scared it'll make my chest pain worse or that it'll make my stomach ache worse. I was reading that papaya enzymes could help but I'm wondering if just eating papaya would do the same if not more? I'm not a big fan of papaya, but I'll do anything to get rid of this awful pain in the middle of my chest.

Good evening. I stumbled across this subreddit going down the rabbit hole online. I’m hoping some of you can calm me down. About 2-3 weeks ago I noticed a muscle twitching in my left tricep. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I figured it was probably just related to stress, poor sleep, dehydration, and having 2 young kids at home. Fast forward to earlier this week, I stated to feel my muscles twitching all over. From my eyelids, calves, buttocks, and my feet. One second I would feel a twitch on my arm and a few seconds later on my thigh and they were all visible. Thursday night my leg muscles were twitching so much and were so intense that I couldn’t sleep. Starting this evening, I am now feeling pins and needles, aches and heaviness. I have a history of pretty bad health anxiety and I keep telling myself that it can’t be one of the bad neurological disorders. Does this sound typical of BFS?

I been reading loads into frozen shoulder just thinking and trying to understand it. Some thing i read was that this effeck women over 40 the most and a dussproved theory was women wear purses and carry babies more and i feel that may be true to be honest i would like to hear yalls thoughs on that plz especially purse tyes what yall use big small bags or heavy and maybe strap types thickness of straps i hope i am making sense lol but i think thses things contribute plust the leingth of strap how far the purse hangs. Thies things was important in a way in a career i worked i built mountai trails and faught forest fires with heavy on person gear. We took lessions on packing gear for weight distribution i still use these techniques for my backpack for walks to relieve pressure on bad spots. Oh hell the other day i had my backpack getting groceries any shoulder started to get that super deep ache i was drinking a Gatorade but my arm hurt trying to hold it. So i slipped the bottle into the fron strap of the chest peck area and i laughed the such pride and ego lol. The bottle acted like a pulley and it rolled with the strap th pressure release was absolutely amazing and a passive chest rub it the the walk from what felt like torture to pleasing in willing walk further and longer plus be happy. Now final theory for women. Im not trying to be a creep i have in the past been in a relationship with a big breasted woman she had a joke she called her bras a boulders holders lol. But to the point can bigger breasts lead to frozen shoulders and can bras cause it too? If so like should the industry look into if this creats problems what are safe choices im a guy i dont unstand braw technology. I might be just crazy and ranting but i feel bad that this effect women mostly plz let me know yalls thoughts.

It felt very, very strange being granted such a title. Mona’s dad was a barkeeper, and my parents (gods rest their souls) worked manual labor and as a cleric. Neither of us had any noble blood in us, or had butlers, footmen and maids. It was a pretty big adjustment for us, especially having to call Mona by her full name when we were in polite company. I had always called her Mona or Emerald (Emmy for short), cause she was beautiful like an emerald, and she always called me Cookie because I loved baking for her. So, going from our pet names to “Ah yes, this is my wife, Lady Desdamona Torres of Mardul, and I am Lady Catherine Louise of Mardul” was so weird. 

But, regardless, I began my misguided quest for revenge against people I didn’t like. I started with Torence, and knew I needed to be smart about what I did. He had just harassed my wife, so if anyone was going to point fingers, he would have an easy reason. So, I started very small. I took on a monstrous form, either that of one of the many wyverns I had cut apart and studied, the Hell Cobra, or the Nightmare Corvid. It started simply enough, roaming the forests of their estate at night, causing people and animals to panic as I let out nightmarish noises to keep them up. Once they were sufficiently worked up, phase two of the plan took effect. I would watch them from their yard, and just stare. Nothing is more terrifying than seeing a 30 foot tall bird just staring at you from the front of your grounds, and then when you call someone to help it’s just gone. Finally, I’d start harassing them. I would swoop down at them or chase them when they were outside, I would damage their windows with rocks or branches, or destroy some of their outside possessions like carriages and gardens. Once I felt they were sufficiently harassed, or had spent a ton of money trying to get rid of me, I’d leave and move on to the next one. Again, THIS IS NOT HOW THINGS SHOULD BE DONE! Please, for the love of the gods, understand that! Either way, that was my schedule for each asshole noble that we encountered. I even got a name for myself, I was simply known as “The Beast”, or “The Shifter”. I liked the beast better, personally, because then that gave me the chance to make lewd and unladylike jokes to my wife. (Yes, penis jokes, and they’re still funny). 

We looked at each other, a bit underwhelmed by this display and kind of disappointed overall. But, we had to remind ourselves that these were basically fodder for hell. Imps aren’t hard enemies unless they swarm in numbers, and even then they go down fairly easily. We were a Grandmaster and Archmage, we were incredibly overpowered for the enemies we had just faced. But, it still felt good to know we had done a service to the town! We were now technically certified devil hunters, but neither of us really felt we had deserved it. So, we started doing our research for the next job. We learned more about the hierarchy of hell, who had control over who, how they commanded them, how things moved up in the ranks, all that. We were upset to learn that killing a devil in our world does not actually kill them for good unless you do something special like a soul-trap or soul destruction. Their soul returns to hell, gets recycled through the machine and implanted into a new body of equal strength to the one they had just lost. So, those imps were definitely going to come back for revenge, I guess. Eh, whatever, it takes a long time to move up the ranks and we’d just continue killing them. Maybe some research into stopping that would be a good idea… We started moving our way up the hierarchy ladder slowly, making sure to build up our name as an annoyance of hell as best we could. Our first year was very easy, we spent our time hunting imps, spined devils and chain devils that we were way too outclassed to give a fair shot. I’m not going to say we wiped the floor every time, we did have moments where they were able to get a good hit on us or were able to cause us some damage, but overall it was a very easy fight. One annoyance, though, was their immunity to my flames. I had to rely solely on my shifting magic and protection magic to be able to fight properly due to them being immune to fire. It was annoying, especially since the majority of my offensive spells were fire spells! I started to do some research on the topic, hoping I could find something that could overcome their fiery immunity or even shut it off completely. My search came up dry, however, so it was back to turning into cool beasts I had killed and dissected and using their forms to maim a bunch of terrified devils. I had considered dissecting and studying the make-up of devils, but once I opened up a bone devil I quickly learned that their forms were mostly just houses for their infernal magic. Without the flames of hell burning inside them, these were just weird looking vessels made of flesh, bone and organs. Plus, probably wasn’t a good idea to be running around in a form that most people feared and wanted dead, so that line of thinking and studying was quickly abandoned. Once we had reached what I guess would be considered the level of Sergeant for the legions of hell, we had begun to acquire quite the name for ourselves in hell. We had not taken out incredibly high ranking members of hell, but we had been able to take a lot of them out in such a short time-frame. As powerful as those on top think they are, a large portion of their strength is having disposable fodder to throw at problems and handle most things for them. We were causing that number to decrease, which was causing problems up the ladder. 

We found out after a bone devil appeared in our bedroom one night. He held two wanted posters, one for Shapechanger Catherine Louise and the other for Potion Master Desdemona Torres. We had a price of 250 soul coins on our head together, quite an impressive sum! We were a real annoyance to them, it seems. We couldn’t help but cheer, even hugging the bone devil and thanking him for telling us the news! He was incredibly confused, pushing us off as he attempted to spear through us with his tail. I shifted my teeth into sharp daggers like a wyvern, grabbed his tail in my teeth and bit it clean off. Mona followed with a special explosive concoction she had been refining that seeped into the body of the devil. Even with their fire immunity, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be lit on fire. I threw a spark at his chest, the concoction lighting him on fire and causing the potion to heat up. It seeped into his skin as he screamed out in pain, his body starting to bulge and swell as the concoction did its magic. We didn’t want a mess to clean up, so I cast a spell of force to push him out the window. He shattered through, his body starting to crack and blister with energy as he continued screaming out in pain. In a brilliant flash, his body exploded into a glitter of magic and faded into nothingness. Once his corporeal form was gone, I decided it was time to test out my research. My hands began to glow as I set an area around the area where its soul would be. 

Hi everyone. Last Wednesday (5/29) in the very early hours of the morning, I (25M) had what I believe to be a TIA or mini stroke. I’m relatively healthy, in good shape, and take good care of myself for the most part.
Just to give you guys some background on the situation at hand — I usually workout 3-6 days a week and since last August, I’ve worked 55 hours a week between two jobs, until recently. To gain weight in muscle, I aimed for 3000-4000 calories a day, mostly in fast/processed food and quick but high-calorie meals, usually with a big Frappuccino and lemonade daily. I also have had social anxiety since 2018, though it’s not nearly as bad as it was and does not detriment me much anymore. And I have had a swollen rib since 2020, which I had checked out and was assured that it was nothing but muscles. Sometime in September 2023, I was introduced to vaping and decided to buy my own. I started to vape a lot, about 30-60 hits per day with a very strong pen and equally strong nicotine juice. I used this daily but persisted with my workout routines up until about a month ago. I was reintroduced to smoking weed (I hadn’t smoked since December 2020) and started to do so every day, in excess, while I continued to smoke nicotine at the same clip. I quit both jobs in favor of a new job that allowed me to work from home for the first month, which gave me a lot of down time to vape and smoke weed and thus reduced my motivation for the gym. I was high every day for a month. And my workout consistency waned. As of today, I haven’t worked out in a month and a half after 13 months of nearly daily rigorous exercise. I also had an incident recently where I was with my girlfriend and accidentally touched my urethra after eating greasy/spicy food, which caused a slight burn. But it didn’t continue after I washed it out and so I did not think much of it. I also have had relatively consistent night sweats for about a year or two, with no clear reason.
The majority of the symptoms began a few weeks after I stopped my workouts. First, I noticed some difficulty peeing and an intermittent ache in my right testicle about a month and a half ago. My appetite started to quickly disappear, going from 3000-4000 calorie days to about 1500-2000 on a good day. Then a week or so later (weekend of 5/18 I believe), I was decently tipsy/high one night at my girlfriend’s house, and suddenly lost my balance as I stood alone in her room by her bed, toppling over and falling to my right side onto the bed. I knew right away that it was strange, as I was not nearly intoxicated enough to lose my balance at all, but brushed it off and attributed it to being under the influence. Then I began to notice a strange ache and dullness in my right foot, which continued for weeks until the very first attack that I had.
On Tuesday 5/28, I spent the day watching movies and smoking tobacco/weed as well as vaping with my girlfriend and her cousin, as I was still onboarding from home for my new job. It was hot (100 degrees plus, and the A/C had gone out. However, I developed a nasty case of hiccups and they continued for hours on end, even starting up again after I would finally put a stop to them. Later that night (Wednesday 5/29), at about 5 am, my girlfriend and I woke up on the downstairs couch in her home as we had fallen asleep watching movies. I also showed her a joke tweet that I had seen about James Bond having a stroke, but in the back of my mind, I was somewhat scared that this is what was happening to me. We went upstairs to sleep and as I laid in bed, I simply could not sleep or rest my mind. I also noticed that as I laid on my back, it was difficult to keep my aching right foot from toppling over to one side. I got up to use the restroom (6 am) and as I stood up from the toilet, I noticed a strange, heavy aching and decent numbness in my right arm and chest. I examined myself in the mirror and noticed that my right shoulder, bicep, and entire right side of my chest were suddenly swollen and tingling. The right side of my head began to tingle and my vision started to slightly blur. I also felt a change in my balance, to one side specifically. And I had less sensation in my right arm and leg. Panicking, I put two and two together as I realized I needed emergency medical care. I went into her room and woke her up, crying uncontrollably and having the worst anxiety attack of my life. She sat there trying to understand me as I was panicking and crying. She had a very blank and tired expression as well as she was half asleep at 6 in the morning, which only made me freak out more. As she got up to get dressed, I hugged her arm because I could not stop crying and felt as if I were gonna fall over at any point. Right away, a wave of nausea washed over me and I asked for a trash can, throwing up a lot with little to no effort. And I have thrown up maybe 5 times in my life in total, even with some nights of heavy drinking in college. As my girlfriend talked to me, I began to have trouble understanding some of the basic sentences she was saying. She helped me walk downstairs, we grabbed our things, and left to the emergency room (7 am). I called my mom crying and she let me know that it was imperative that I stay calm. My ability to speak and keep my head upright started to dwindle in the car, and as my mom prayed for me over the phone, I could no longer say the prayer with her at a certain point. My head continued to tilt to the right side as my vocabulary weakened, and my speech significantly slowed down. At this juncture, I was only able to say things slowly and with effort. I noticed my eyes had a tendency to involuntarily dart around and look at everything in the vicinity. We arrived at the ER and they had me do various tests to check for a stroke, yet I passed every test with flying colors as my symptoms started to go away. My blood pressure, heart rate, and basic vitals were fine. I had no droopiness in my features, I was able to hold both arms/legs up, smile normally, and walk in a straight line heel to toe. The doctors brought me to a room and I stayed for 10 hours, taking multiple tests. I did a CT scan, chest X Ray, blood test, and neck ultrasound to examine my blood vessels. I also did a urine test and was checked for various viruses. And everything was totally fine. The doctors let me know that I was free to go after spending the day testing, and marked it down as a panic attack induced migraine with some dizziness. They had ruled out a heart attack, cancer, blood clots, diabetes, a stroke, any blood related diseases, or damage to my lungs/brain. Everything seemed to be ok to them. So I went home to my girlfriend’s house, and needed support walking around. Immediately, I decided to quit drinking (at least for the foreseeable future), smoking, and vaping. And my appetite lessened to where I was eating less than 1000 calories a day and losing weight. My motor and speech functions started to return to normal, but when I attempted to brush my teeth with my dominant hand as I normally do at night, it felt strange. But I went to bed and slept totally fine. I also observed a consistent brain fog in the right side of my head, almost as if I were high all the time in just one half of my head.
Very early Friday morning (5/31) around 3-4 am, I noticed the same symptoms once again, save for nausea and vomiting, with everything else occurring to a significantly lesser extent. Due to nicotine withdrawals, I had not been sleeping and was exhausted. We rushed to the ER once more and took the same tests for vitals, with everything being fine once again. The doctor administered a neurological test, and to no one’s surprise, I passed with flying colors. He let me know that the one thing they had not ruled out was MS, but that I likely don’t have it. I was given the choice of waiting 5 hours for an MRI, or I could do one in my own city. The doctor reassured me that all of my tests came back negative, and that because it is not anything life-threatening, we have time to wait for an MRI. He set me up to do a telehealth appointment with the site neurologist 4 days later, and I was sent on my way with a diagnosis of dizziness. I got home, and the lymph nodes in my neck suddenly swelled up, as did those in my armpits.
As time has gone on, things have been progressively better for the most part. I’m fully walking on my own. I even resumed remote work. But the first time I tried to have sex, I was extremely fatigued after and noticed the brain fog and tingling/aching sensation on the right side of my body. This lasted for 2 hours afterward. However, I’ve been able to have sex a few times since and I’ve been fine. My night sweats have worsened, happening virtually every single night and leaving big wet spots in the sheets. I have tried sleeping with no clothes, no blanket, just a sheet, and with fans directly on me to no avail whatsoever. The left side of my neck, right side of my chest, right shoulder have remained swollen since the two attacks. Since then, my right ear (which is super red) and right armpit has swollen as of last night. I have also had a strange inability to control my emotions, getting very upset over mild things and even crying which I don’t typically do more than a few times a year and in pretty serious circumstances. I’ve had shooting pains in my left arm and in the left side of my chest, and the right side of my back has swelled up as well. The brow above my right eye has now swollen, and I’ve felt these sharp pains in addition to aches, both behind and around my right eye. And I have had the sensation that something is stuck in my eye until I blink, when there is never anything there to begin with. Additionally, I’ve observed some esotropia, where my eyes will involuntarily cross when I’m looking at something close to me. I’ve been generally constipated for a few days, and then last night, I had diarrhea and sudden nausea but did not throw up. I’ve felt very dissociated from myself and not like myself, and have had a lesser ability to empathize or think before acting/talking. Lastly, my right cheek has been swollen and aching, and I also was more sensitive to light than usual when my girlfriend turned the lights on while I was resting in her room last night. And the worst thing of all is the anxiety, the feeling that something bad is going to happen. And I have lost 10 pounds in the past month.
Since everything happened, I looked at my test results online and saw that I’m actually extremely healthy in a lot of different areas. My blood sugar, sodium, etc are totally ok. But after doing some research, I now know that TIAs do not typically show up on most medical tests or scans, but that they leave the door open for a likely stroke or seizure in the next 90 days. I want to err on the side of caution, but I’ve been at her house 2 hours away (for a while) and I’m concerned about being able to drive home tomorrow or get back in the gym. I’ve been drinking green tea as well, as I read that it can help a lot with preventing a stroke. I was hoping to get some advice and rule things out. Thank you all and I appreciate it.