I’d known Cayden Kelly for the better half of my life. In fact, I couldn’t actually tell you how we met. We’d simply just been friends for as long as I can remember.
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When we were kids, our parents would get together and we’d run around in the backyard, playing secret agents and pretending the coolest monster from whatever movie we’d seen most recently was chasing us.
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Cayden liked movies. He especially liked movies with monsters in them although he never really cared about the human protagonists. They were just distractions from the real stars of the show. The monsters… Those were the ones he obsessed over. They were the ones he loved. I always liked the heroes. Ellen Ripley, RJ Macready, Ash Williams. I wanted to be cool and badass like them. Cayden on the other hand wanted to be the monster.
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Looking back at it, I think he looked up to them. He was a small, skinny, pale kid with light blond hair who got sick all the time. He was shy around most people and struggled with approaching other kids he didn’t already know. He never seemed to know the right thing to say or do. He’d usually get upset when things didn’t go his way and lash out in anger. When we were little, that usually meant hitting someone. That’s admittedly a big part of the reason most of my other friends didn’t want to hang around him. I was just about the only person who he could spend time around without losing his cool. Everyone else just avoided him and that made him, in his own mind at least, an outsider. I think he saw some of himself in those movie monsters. An outsider. Misunderstood, but not necessarily bad.
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When we played together by ourselves, he’d either pretend to be the monster, or he’d pretend that the monster was our friend, helping us fight another monster. I guess it was innocent enough. Some people just vibe with the monsters and that’s fine. I never judged him for it or saw it as a bad thing. Honestly, I think it was part of why always got along so well. We completed each other, in a sense. He was the Dracula to my Van Helsing and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
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Even when Cayden's problems started to become my problems, I stuck by him.
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Kids can be cruel by nature. Even when Cayden grew out of hitting people when he got angry, a lot of people still didn’t like him and he didn’t really want anything to do with them. Unfortunately, my other ‘friends’ not liking Cayden eventually evolved into them not liking me very much either. They’d complain when I tried to include him and when I ignored them, they simply stopped including me.
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I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt… But at least I still had Cayden. It was just the two of us against the world and honestly, I could live with that. People were at least still a little nicer to me than they were to him. So I sorta became his bodyguard. When anyone decided to pick on him, they dealt with me first.
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Some kids were happy to back off when I stepped in and stood up for him. Others, like Nick Carter weren’t so easily deterred.
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Nick Carter transferred to our school sometime around 8th grade. At 13, he looked like someone who’d already picked out the shitty personality he’d have for the rest of his life and was just in the process of growing into it. I’d seen his Dad drop him off for school a few times and Nick looked exactly the way I’d imagine a younger clone of him would look. He wore his hair in a military buzz cut and his face seemed a little too wide for his head. He didn’t have his Dads muscular military physique yet, but it wasn’t hard to imagine him with it.
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Nick carried himself like a soldier, head always held high. He walked with a brutish gait, head tilted forward as if he was going to ram anything that was in his way. Looking at him now, I realize that he probably had something to prove. Judging by the military tattoos on his Dads arms, he’d probably grown up in a pretty long shadow. I can’t imagine it did wonders for his mental health.
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Needless to say, as a kid who was doomed to suffer an inferiority complex, Nick was looking for a target and Cayden might as well have had one painted on his back. As you might expect - That wasn’t exactly going to fly with me. And Nick wasn’t going to let me talk back to him.
It ended badly.
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The first time he went after Cayden, about a week after he transferred into our class. He’d come up to him, asking if he was the ‘weird kid’ and telling him to do something weird. Trying to get a rise out of him, just to see if he could. I’d stepped in and told him to fuck off. He’d just laughed and asked me if I was Cayden's boyfriend. I’d told him I wasn’t and that if he was asking me for a date, I wasn’t interested.
He may have taken offense to that…
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It wasn’t exactly much of a fight. He’d taken a swing at me, and the next thing I knew I was on my ass, seeing stars. He got down on top of me, grabbing me by the shirt and yelling something at me. I don’t actually remember what he said because I was too distracted by the blood gushing out of my nose. He hit me again for good measure before a teacher pulled him off of me.
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We both got suspended, him for hitting me and me for instigating. And that was the start of a beautiful friendship.
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Nick went out of his way to harass me and Cayden at every possible opportunity after that. Usually it was just petty little shit. Spitballs, name calling, stuff like that. Every now and then though, he’d go big.
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He crushed an orange on my chair before class once. We didn’t have any spares so I had to stand and take notes the entire class. I could hear him snickering the whole time. In tenth grade, I’m pretty sure he pissed in Cayden's locker. We never proved it was him. There were cameras in the halls but the vice principal said he didn’t see anything on the footage… Which I’m pretty sure just meant that he didn’t actually check. But who else would do something like that?
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Nick started calling Cayden ‘Piss Boy’ after that. He got a lot of milage out of that one… It’s probably best if I don’t go into the details. Through it all, Cayden took it as well as he could. I think at some point, he just sorta grew desensitized to it all. It wasn’t just Nick that picked on him. Nick might’ve been the worst, but they all tormented him in some way or another. Even the ones who didn’t jeer simply didn’t want anything to do with him. Cayden hadn’t exactly gotten better at making friends over the years and sometimes, it was hard even for me to stay friends with him. For the most part, things were the same as they’d ever been. We were a little too old to play make believe in the backyard at that point, but we’d traded that in for late night scary movie marathons and survival horror games. His monster obsession had never gone anywhere. He’d gradually become more and more of a horror movie buff, and as we got older he started getting deep into some of the communities online.
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He kept trying to get me into them too, but I was never really that interested. Most of them were forums, discussing movie monsters, and whether or not certain cryptids were real. But the less tame ones ventured a little into crazy territory. There was one that he showed me that looked like it was full of occult shit. Descriptions of rituals and magic that ranged from weird to completely fucked up. The people there posted diagrams of spell circles and runes. Some of them linked to stores that sold certain types of candles. One girl on there kept posting about how she’d been visiting her local graveyard to steal actual human remains.
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I’d told Cayden that this was way too much for me and he’d just laughed it off, before saying:
“You’ll get used to it eventually. This is the real deal, man!”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not… I wanted to believe he was.
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Then came the cancer diagnosis.
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Cayden getting sick was nothing new. I said before, he tended to get sick a lot. But when it hit him in 11th grade, it was worse than it had ever been before. He started losing weight to the point where he was almost bone thin. He got sick more often and when he did, it took more out of him.
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The change happened gradually, and I’ll be honest, it did worry me a little bit. I never thought it would be as bad as it was, though.
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Eventually, a doctor diagnosed him with leukemia.
Leukemia… Christ…
I remember the day he told me, he was so pale that his skin almost looked chalk white.
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“It’s bad, Mitch…” He’d said. “It’s really fucking bad…”
His voice had been shaking as he spoke. I’d never seen him that scared in my life. Honestly, I’d have been scared too if I were in his shoes, staring down the barrel of death when my life had barely even begun.
“I don’t want to die man… Not yet. There’s still so much more out there… I don’t want to die like this…”
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Christ… There wasn’t a goddamn thing I could say to comfort him, and I knew it. All I could do was hug him, tell him he’d be okay and hope to hell it sounded believable.
It didn’t.
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Over the next year, they tried chemotherapy. It helped manage it… But it didn’t push the cancer back enough.
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Next came a bone marrow transplant. According to Cayden, his Doctor had been hopeful it might work. But his body rejected it.
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Everything they tried, failed. The cancer continued to devour him from the inside out and every day, I saw the fear in Cayden's eyes grow deeper and deeper…
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As his body wasted away, I saw him struggling to accept the fact that his death was coming and as the days went by, I saw that fear slowly turn into a slow, simmering rage. By the end of 11th grade, Cayden was never at school anymore. I brought his work to him, but he was never actually in class.
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Some of the other students had signed a card for me to pass along to him. He hadn’t even looked at it. He’d just told me to put it in the trash.
“They never gave a shit about me before. They don’t get to give a shit about me when I’m dying.” He’d said bitterly, “I don’t need their hollow fucking sympathy…”
I’d just told the rest of the school that he’d simply said thanks.
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Not everyone seemed to change their attitude towards Cayden so quickly though… No, Nick was the same as he always was. I suppose there’s some irony in the fact that Cayden would’ve considered Nick of all people was probably the only one who was sincere in the way he reacted to his sickness.
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While everyone else wrote kind little notes and taped them to Cayden's locker, there were always a few notes saying things like:
‘Die already, Piss Boy.’
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It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out who was writing those.
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“So whens Piss Boy gonna just bite it?” Nick had asked me once, “He’s been dying for over a year now. Might as well just take the easy way out. Have a little dignity.”
I’d almost hit him for saying that… But I really didn’t need to get my ass beat that day.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I’d asked him. “What if that were you, asshole?” Nick just shrugged.
“If it were me, I’d just fucking hang myself. Go out on my own terms. Guess he doesn’t have the balls.”
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He’d shrugged again and walked away before I could think of a response. I decided that he just wasn’t worth it… He was probably only saying that shit to piss me off and try and goad me into picking a fight with him. I told myself not to let him get to me.
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About a month later, Cayden told me that his Mom had gotten a call from a vet, telling them that they’d missed an appointment to put their sick dog ‘Cayden’ down. His parents never figured out who’d booked the appointment, but Cayden and I both knew who’d done it. I don’t think Nick had intended to make Cayden laugh when he did that, but he laughed all the same.
“It would be a hell of a lot easier…” He’d said, “He’s almost got a point there…”
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By May, the doctor was saying that Cayden probably only had a few more weeks left. He was on his last legs and fading fast… Looking at him, he barely resembled the friend I’d known for my entire life. His skin was ghostly pale. His body looked thinner and his hair was gone. The dark circles under his sunken eyes made his face better resemble a skull.
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Every day I went to see him, I dreaded that it would be the last one… He didn’t speak much anymore. His voice was low and weak, like a whisper when he did. More often than not, he slept. Some days, he was strong enough to go for a short walk. But those days were becoming fewer and further between.
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He was dying in the slowest, cruelest way he could… And there was nothing I could do for him.Maybe that’s why I said yes to what he asked me to do. Because I couldn’t stand watching him keep wasting away… I wanted to believe that it would help. As crazy as it was, I wanted to believe that it would make a difference.
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And maybe it did.
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He’d asked me one day while I was visiting him. His voice was so low and raspy, I could barely even hear him speak.
“Can you do something for me… Something important. You’re the only one I can ask…”
I told him I’d do anything he wanted, and I’d felt him place his hand over mine.
“You have to promise… You have to promise you’ll do it. Will you promise?”
I promised.
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“I need… I need a cat… Find one. A stray, maybe… Kill it and… and bring it to the woods. Out behind the hospice… Then, take me for a walk. Let me see it… I want to do something. One thing… I… I want to try…”
I’d blinked in disbelief. I thought I’d misheard him at first. I’d tried to pull my hand back but Cayden had gripped it tight, refusing to let me.
“Promised…” He rasped, “You promised… I… I need to try… Something I read… A ritual. I need to try…”
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I thought that he must’ve been delirious… Maybe he didn’t even know what he was saying. But he kept an iron grip on my arm, refusing to let me pull away. Even when I tried to talk some sense into him, he wouldn’t listen.
“I need it…” Was all he’d said, “Last chance…”
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He kept his grip firm on my hand and he didn’t let go until I told him I’d do what he asked… A look of relief washed over him as he sank back down onto the bed, breathing heavily from the exertion.
“Thank you… Tomorrow… Bring it for tomorrow… Please…”
I told him that I would.
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Maybe I could’ve gotten away with just not doing it. I suppose I could’ve just not gone back… But I couldn't do that to Cayden. I didn’t want to do what he’d asked of me. But I’d promised him, hadn’t I?
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That night, as I lay in bed I thought about what he’d said. Maybe it was just some sort of episode, brought on as the cancer ate away at him… Maybe it was proof that his mind was going. In which case, I quietly wondered if maybe it would be better if he died sooner rather than later…. I hated myself for thinking that.
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But the way he’d spoken as he’d asked for it. The way he’d grabbed my arm and refused to let go… The look in his eyes. I’d known Cayden for a long time. Long enough to know that he’d been begging me to do this for him.
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Horrible as this was, it was important to him… Maybe he thought it could save him. I thought back to those weird forums he’d hung out on. I remember the strange occult one he’d shown me. He’d probably gotten the idea from there. Whatever he was planning probably wouldn’t actually work.
But what if it did…?
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As I tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep, I started thinking more and more about the possibility that this might actually work. Sure, it was crazy… But maybe there was a chance it might help. Maybe this was all we needed to turn things around, to save him.
Maybe…
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After school the next day, I went looking for a cat. I knew there were usually strays down by the old department store. I lured one out with a can of tuna I stole from the pantry and after a bit of trial and error, managed to trap it in a box, where I was able to slit its throat with a kitchen knife.
It was not easy… Not physically or emotionally.
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I suppose in concept, killing an animal sounds a lot easier than it is. But as I looked at the blood on my hands, all I felt was sick…
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I wanted to abandon the whole thing right then and there, go back to Cayden and tell him I couldn’t do it. He’d be disappointed. Maybe he’d even be mad, but could I really continue to go through with this? But by that point… I’d already finished the hardest part. Why not finish what I started?
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I closed the box so I didn’t have to see the body as I brought it to the hospice.
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The hospice had a nice little outdoor garden behind it. It was peaceful, with a little pond full of koi and some benches for reading. A stone path circled around the garden, winding through some of the trees and coming close to the woods out back. I took the cat there, setting the box behind some bushes before washing my hands one more time before visiting Cayden.
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He looked as bad as he always did… But his eyes lit up when he saw me.
“Did you do it?”
The excitement in his voice caught me off guard. It seemed… Wrong, somehow. I almost told him I hadn’t. But instead, I just managed a quiet, uneasy nod.
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Cayden managed a weak smile in response.
“Good… I want to go for a walk. Out by the woods in the garden… Can you take me?”
I asked the nurse to get his wheelchair. As we waited for her to bring it, he pointed one trembling finger towards a backpack sitting on a chair across the room.
“Bring that…”
I hesitated for a moment before slinging it over my shoulder.
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We’d walked through the garden behind the hospice a few times before. It was peaceful there… But this time, I really didn’t want to go. Cayden seemed different than before. More excited. His body still seemed weak, almost on the verge of collapse but somehow he kept going, as if he’d been saving up the last of his strength just for this.
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As I pushed Cayden along the path, I saw his eyes lingering on the woods. At his request, I’d set the backpack in his lap and he hugged it tight to his chest with both arms.
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When I stopped in front of the place where I’d hidden the body. He slowly opened the backpack and took something out. It was clearly a herculean effort for him to give me what he gave me. I wasn’t quite sure what it was at first. I had to turn it over in my hands a few times before I figured it out but when I did… I felt my heart skip a beat.
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He’d just given me a switchblade.
“I need you to do this for me… I can’t… Too weak… I need you to be… be my hands…”
I looked back at him, speechless. There was a stern, almost resolute look in his eye. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I took a deep breath and asked him what he needed me to do.
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At Cayden's request, I took the cat from the box and propped it up with some sticks. Then, I used the switchblade to cut open its stomach.
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The smell and sight of its entrails made me gag and retch… But I did it anyways. The whole while, Cayden sat in his wheelchair, watching me intently.
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“Read about this online…” He said, “They say it works… We’ll see. What have I got to lose…” He laughed humorlessly, before taking something else from the bag.
A small incense burner.
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He told me to set the burner inside the hollowed out stomach of the cat… and I did as he asked. Then, I lit it and helped him out of his chair to inch closer to the twisted effigy we’d created.
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Cayden collapsed to his knees in front of the desecrated cat. The smoke of the incense rose out of its open mouth and nose… Its empty eyes looked skyward, frozen in a silent scream. He patted the spot beside him and I knelt too, trying not to look at the face of the creature I’d killed… I asked myself what I was doing… Why I was doing this. But looking at Cayden and seeing the way he prostrated himself before the effigy made me almost believe it was worth it.
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I could hear him speaking, whispering something I couldn’t clearly hear. As he spoke, he remained kneeling, never once lifting his head until he was done. Then, when he had finished whatever prayer he’d uttered, he took the switchblade and leaned in closer to the cat.
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I watched as he began to carve a sigil into its body. His hand was shaking, but his movements were deliberate. He carved an inverted triangle and drew a line through the center. He carved two branching lines extending out of the triangle from the top facing up, two from the middle facing down, and two from the bottom also facing down. At last, he carved a V shape that intersected the four lines coming off bottom of the triangle.
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I couldn’t watch anymore… I stood up, turning away as Cayden plunged his hand into the body of the cat to do something else. I never saw what…
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I could hear him moving, hear him doing something but I didn’t allow myself to look. I’d seen enough. I could hear him breathing in the fumes from the incense and I could hear him whisper. I only looked back once to see him hunched over the effigy, and I could’ve sworn that the space around him seemed darker than before…
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I closed my eyes and looked away again and I didn’t allow myself to acknowledge what he was doing until I finally heard him speak to me.
“It’s done… You can take me back now…”
Cayden had sank down into a sitting position. His hands were covered in blood that he wiped off onto his pants.
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I wordlessly helped him back into his wheelchair. He slumped down into it, barely awake. He looked ready to pass out.
“Thank you…” Was all he said to me.
I didn’t reply. I just brought him back to his room.
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When the nurse asked about the blood, I said that someone had killed a cat and left the body out back. It technically wasn’t a lie.
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The last time I saw Cayden Kelly, he was dozing off as the nurse helped him back into his bed. He opened his eyes only briefly… And offered me a small, knowing smile. I never said goodbye to him. I just turned away and left as quickly as I could.
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I’m not sure if that was a mistake or not.
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I got the news the next day that Cayden had died during the night although in the end, it hadn’t been the cancer that had killed him. No… Cayden had cut his wrists while he was in bed that night. He’d bled out before the nurses could do anything about it.
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I was told he’d probably been in a delirious state when he’d done it… I heard his Mom say that he’d been drawing on the walls in his own blood before he’d finally bled out.
I think I know what he drew…
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The school held a memorial service for Cayden at the end of May. They asked me to speak at it. I told them I couldn’t. The excuse I gave was that the pain was still too fresh. The actual reason is that I had nothing I wanted to say.
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Maybe that was wrong of me… But what I’d seen the last time we’d been together, what he’d made me take part in… I wasn’t so sure I could rightfully call him a friend after that. Maybe it was all just some delirium induced psychosis… A mad delusion cooked up by his mind as the cancer ripped him apart. Maybe… But I remember the way he looked as he knelt in front of the effigy. The single minded determination on his face…
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No… I think he knew exactly what he was doing.
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There were others spoke at his service. People who didn’t really know Cayden. Teachers, a few students who we’d technically known since first grade… But nobody who knew him like I did. I know that Cayden would’ve hated the way they talked about him, as if he was some beloved member of the community who’d been close to everyone. He would’ve laughed and called them all hypocrites and he would’ve been right. But I let them talk. I let them say what they thought was appropriate. It hardly mattered now. He wouldn’t be there to hear it.
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I started having the nightmares a few days after Cayden died, but after the service, they only got worse.
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In my dreams I’d see him in the woods, strung up like that cat was. His stomach would be cut open and his entrails spilled out of his body… But he was grinning from ear to ear as I approached him… He was smiling and laughing as if nothing was wrong, his body still skeletally thin and his face more skull like than it had been even in his final days.
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He would only say one thing to me as he laughed. Just one.
“Look up in the trees, Mitch! Isn’t it beautiful?”
Then I’d look up… But I wouldn’t see it.
I woke up before I could.
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In July, two months after Cayden died, Nick Carter hung himself in the woods outside of town.
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A couple of hikers found his body after it had decayed so much his head had detached from the rest of him and sent him plummeting down to the ground. I heard about it over Facebook via a mutual friend… Even before they found his body though, people were talking about the last post Nick had made.
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‘He’s there every night now… I’m going to the woods. I need to make it stop… I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.’
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The funny thing is… I understood what he meant by that. I’ve been seeing him every night too… Every night in my dreams, laughing that horrible laugh of his…
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I know I’m not the only one too… Judging by the comments under Nicks final post… I’m not the only one who still sees Cayden.
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Another girl in our school died in a car accident yesterday. Apparently, she just drove off the road and crashed into a tree. People are saying it was deliberate.
Maybe they’re right…
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I haven’t slept much lately. Every time I do, I dream of Cayden. Every night, he laughs and tells me to look up and through tears, I beg him not to make me do it.
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But I do…
I see it now.
I see the bodies.
I see the empty branches with empty ropes, waiting for more… And I know that more are coming.
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I don’t know what Cayden did before he died. I don’t know what I helped him do. I realize now that the ritual he performed wasn’t meant to save his life… Or at least, not the way I had hoped it would.
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Every night I hear him laughing… Every night I see the nooses… And I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’ve tried not sleeping. But it doesn’t work. I’ll always have sleep eventually and he’ll always be there when I do. I’ve tried looking for information but I can’t find anything. I don’t know what he did or how to stop it.
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I don’t know what I’ve done…
I don’t know what to do.
And I’m afraid.

I’d known Cayden Kelly for the better half of my life. In fact, I couldn’t actually tell you how we met. We’d simply just been friends for as long as I can remember.
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When we were kids, our parents would get together and we’d run around in the backyard, playing secret agents and pretending the coolest monster from whatever movie we’d seen most recently was chasing us.
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Cayden liked movies. He especially liked movies with monsters in them although he never really cared about the human protagonists. They were just distractions from the real stars of the show. The monsters… Those were the ones he obsessed over. They were the ones he loved. I always liked the heroes. Ellen Ripley, RJ Macready, Ash Williams. I wanted to be cool and badass like them. Cayden on the other hand wanted to be the monster.
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Looking back at it, I think he looked up to them. He was a small, skinny, pale kid with light blond hair who got sick all the time. He was shy around most people and struggled with approaching other kids he didn’t already know. He never seemed to know the right thing to say or do. He’d usually get upset when things didn’t go his way and lash out in anger. When we were little, that usually meant hitting someone. That’s admittedly a big part of the reason most of my other friends didn’t want to hang around him. I was just about the only person who he could spend time around without losing his cool. Everyone else just avoided him and that made him, in his own mind at least, an outsider. I think he saw some of himself in those movie monsters. An outsider. Misunderstood, but not necessarily bad.
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When we played together by ourselves, he’d either pretend to be the monster, or he’d pretend that the monster was our friend, helping us fight another monster. I guess it was innocent enough. Some people just vibe with the monsters and that’s fine. I never judged him for it or saw it as a bad thing. Honestly, I think it was part of why always got along so well. We completed each other, in a sense. He was the Dracula to my Van Helsing and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
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Even when Cayden's problems started to become my problems, I stuck by him.
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Kids can be cruel by nature. Even when Cayden grew out of hitting people when he got angry, a lot of people still didn’t like him and he didn’t really want anything to do with them. Unfortunately, my other ‘friends’ not liking Cayden eventually evolved into them not liking me very much either. They’d complain when I tried to include him and when I ignored them, they simply stopped including me.
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I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt… But at least I still had Cayden. It was just the two of us against the world and honestly, I could live with that. People were at least still a little nicer to me than they were to him. So I sorta became his bodyguard. When anyone decided to pick on him, they dealt with me first.
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Some kids were happy to back off when I stepped in and stood up for him. Others, like Nick Carter weren’t so easily deterred.
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Nick Carter transferred to our school sometime around 8th grade. At 13, he looked like someone who’d already picked out the shitty personality he’d have for the rest of his life and was just in the process of growing into it. I’d seen his Dad drop him off for school a few times and Nick looked exactly the way I’d imagine a younger clone of him would look. He wore his hair in a military buzz cut and his face seemed a little too wide for his head. He didn’t have his Dads muscular military physique yet, but it wasn’t hard to imagine him with it.
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Nick carried himself like a soldier, head always held high. He walked with a brutish gait, head tilted forward as if he was going to ram anything that was in his way. Looking at him now, I realize that he probably had something to prove. Judging by the military tattoos on his Dads arms, he’d probably grown up in a pretty long shadow. I can’t imagine it did wonders for his mental health.
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Needless to say, as a kid who was doomed to suffer an inferiority complex, Nick was looking for a target and Cayden might as well have had one painted on his back. As you might expect - That wasn’t exactly going to fly with me. And Nick wasn’t going to let me talk back to him.
It ended badly.
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The first time he went after Cayden, about a week after he transferred into our class. He’d come up to him, asking if he was the ‘weird kid’ and telling him to do something weird. Trying to get a rise out of him, just to see if he could. I’d stepped in and told him to fuck off. He’d just laughed and asked me if I was Cayden's boyfriend. I’d told him I wasn’t and that if he was asking me for a date, I wasn’t interested.
He may have taken offense to that…
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It wasn’t exactly much of a fight. He’d taken a swing at me, and the next thing I knew I was on my ass, seeing stars. He got down on top of me, grabbing me by the shirt and yelling something at me. I don’t actually remember what he said because I was too distracted by the blood gushing out of my nose. He hit me again for good measure before a teacher pulled him off of me.
​
We both got suspended, him for hitting me and me for instigating. And that was the start of a beautiful friendship.
​
Nick went out of his way to harass me and Cayden at every possible opportunity after that. Usually it was just petty little shit. Spitballs, name calling, stuff like that. Every now and then though, he’d go big.
​
He crushed an orange on my chair before class once. We didn’t have any spares so I had to stand and take notes the entire class. I could hear him snickering the whole time. In tenth grade, I’m pretty sure he pissed in Cayden's locker. We never proved it was him. There were cameras in the halls but the vice principal said he didn’t see anything on the footage… Which I’m pretty sure just meant that he didn’t actually check. But who else would do something like that?
​
Nick started calling Cayden ‘Piss Boy’ after that. He got a lot of milage out of that one… It’s probably best if I don’t go into the details. Through it all, Cayden took it as well as he could. I think at some point, he just sorta grew desensitized to it all. It wasn’t just Nick that picked on him. Nick might’ve been the worst, but they all tormented him in some way or another. Even the ones who didn’t jeer simply didn’t want anything to do with him. Cayden hadn’t exactly gotten better at making friends over the years and sometimes, it was hard even for me to stay friends with him. For the most part, things were the same as they’d ever been. We were a little too old to play make believe in the backyard at that point, but we’d traded that in for late night scary movie marathons and survival horror games. His monster obsession had never gone anywhere. He’d gradually become more and more of a horror movie buff, and as we got older he started getting deep into some of the communities online.
​
He kept trying to get me into them too, but I was never really that interested. Most of them were forums, discussing movie monsters, and whether or not certain cryptids were real. But the less tame ones ventured a little into crazy territory. There was one that he showed me that looked like it was full of occult shit. Descriptions of rituals and magic that ranged from weird to completely fucked up. The people there posted diagrams of spell circles and runes. Some of them linked to stores that sold certain types of candles. One girl on there kept posting about how she’d been visiting her local graveyard to steal actual human remains.
​
I’d told Cayden that this was way too much for me and he’d just laughed it off, before saying:
“You’ll get used to it eventually. This is the real deal, man!”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not… I wanted to believe he was.
​
Then came the cancer diagnosis.
​
Cayden getting sick was nothing new. I said before, he tended to get sick a lot. But when it hit him in 11th grade, it was worse than it had ever been before. He started losing weight to the point where he was almost bone thin. He got sick more often and when he did, it took more out of him.
​
The change happened gradually, and I’ll be honest, it did worry me a little bit. I never thought it would be as bad as it was, though.
​
Eventually, a doctor diagnosed him with leukemia.
Leukemia… Christ…
I remember the day he told me, he was so pale that his skin almost looked chalk white.
​
“It’s bad, Mitch…” He’d said. “It’s really fucking bad…”
His voice had been shaking as he spoke. I’d never seen him that scared in my life. Honestly, I’d have been scared too if I were in his shoes, staring down the barrel of death when my life had barely even begun.
“I don’t want to die man… Not yet. There’s still so much more out there… I don’t want to die like this…”
​
Christ… There wasn’t a goddamn thing I could say to comfort him, and I knew it. All I could do was hug him, tell him he’d be okay and hope to hell it sounded believable.
It didn’t.
​
Over the next year, they tried chemotherapy. It helped manage it… But it didn’t push the cancer back enough.
​
Next came a bone marrow transplant. According to Cayden, his Doctor had been hopeful it might work. But his body rejected it.
​
Everything they tried, failed. The cancer continued to devour him from the inside out and every day, I saw the fear in Cayden's eyes grow deeper and deeper…
​
As his body wasted away, I saw him struggling to accept the fact that his death was coming and as the days went by, I saw that fear slowly turn into a slow, simmering rage. By the end of 11th grade, Cayden was never at school anymore. I brought his work to him, but he was never actually in class.
​
Some of the other students had signed a card for me to pass along to him. He hadn’t even looked at it. He’d just told me to put it in the trash.
“They never gave a shit about me before. They don’t get to give a shit about me when I’m dying.” He’d said bitterly, “I don’t need their hollow fucking sympathy…”
I’d just told the rest of the school that he’d simply said thanks.
​
Not everyone seemed to change their attitude towards Cayden so quickly though… No, Nick was the same as he always was. I suppose there’s some irony in the fact that Cayden would’ve considered Nick of all people was probably the only one who was sincere in the way he reacted to his sickness.
​
While everyone else wrote kind little notes and taped them to Cayden's locker, there were always a few notes saying things like:
‘Die already, Piss Boy.’
​
It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out who was writing those.
​
“So whens Piss Boy gonna just bite it?” Nick had asked me once, “He’s been dying for over a year now. Might as well just take the easy way out. Have a little dignity.”
I’d almost hit him for saying that… But I really didn’t need to get my ass beat that day.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I’d asked him. “What if that were you, asshole?” Nick just shrugged.
“If it were me, I’d just fucking hang myself. Go out on my own terms. Guess he doesn’t have the balls.”
​
He’d shrugged again and walked away before I could think of a response. I decided that he just wasn’t worth it… He was probably only saying that shit to piss me off and try and goad me into picking a fight with him. I told myself not to let him get to me.
​
About a month later, Cayden told me that his Mom had gotten a call from a vet, telling them that they’d missed an appointment to put their sick dog ‘Cayden’ down. His parents never figured out who’d booked the appointment, but Cayden and I both knew who’d done it. I don’t think Nick had intended to make Cayden laugh when he did that, but he laughed all the same.
“It would be a hell of a lot easier…” He’d said, “He’s almost got a point there…”
​
By May, the doctor was saying that Cayden probably only had a few more weeks left. He was on his last legs and fading fast… Looking at him, he barely resembled the friend I’d known for my entire life. His skin was ghostly pale. His body looked thinner and his hair was gone. The dark circles under his sunken eyes made his face better resemble a skull.
​
Every day I went to see him, I dreaded that it would be the last one… He didn’t speak much anymore. His voice was low and weak, like a whisper when he did. More often than not, he slept. Some days, he was strong enough to go for a short walk. But those days were becoming fewer and further between.
​
He was dying in the slowest, cruelest way he could… And there was nothing I could do for him. Maybe that’s why I said yes to what he asked me to do. Because I couldn’t stand watching him keep wasting away… I wanted to believe that it would help. As crazy as it was, I wanted to believe that it would make a difference.
​
And maybe it did.
​
He’d asked me one day while I was visiting him. His voice was so low and raspy, I could barely even hear him speak.
“Can you do something for me… Something important. You’re the only one I can ask…”
I told him I’d do anything he wanted, and I’d felt him place his hand over mine.
“You have to promise… You have to promise you’ll do it. Will you promise?”
I promised.
​
“I need… I need a cat… Find one. A stray, maybe… Kill it and… and bring it to the woods. Out behind the hospice… Then, take me for a walk. Let me see it… I want to do something. One thing… I… I want to try…”
I’d blinked in disbelief. I thought I’d misheard him at first. I’d tried to pull my hand back but Cayden had gripped it tight, refusing to let me.
“Promised…” He rasped, “You promised… I… I need to try… Something I read… A ritual. I need to try…”
​
I thought that he must’ve been delirious… Maybe he didn’t even know what he was saying. But he kept an iron grip on my arm, refusing to let me pull away. Even when I tried to talk some sense into him, he wouldn’t listen.
“I need it…” Was all he’d said, “Last chance…”
​
He kept his grip firm on my hand and he didn’t let go until I told him I’d do what he asked… A look of relief washed over him as he sank back down onto the bed, breathing heavily from the exertion.
“Thank you… Tomorrow… Bring it for tomorrow… Please…”
I told him that I would.
​
Maybe I could’ve gotten away with just not doing it. I suppose I could’ve just not gone back… But I couldn't do that to Cayden. I didn’t want to do what he’d asked of me. But I’d promised him, hadn’t I?
​
That night, as I lay in bed I thought about what he’d said. Maybe it was just some sort of episode, brought on as the cancer ate away at him… Maybe it was proof that his mind was going. In which case, I quietly wondered if maybe it would be better if he died sooner rather than later…. I hated myself for thinking that.
​
But the way he’d spoken as he’d asked for it. The way he’d grabbed my arm and refused to let go… The look in his eyes. I’d known Cayden for a long time. Long enough to know that he’d been begging me to do this for him.
​
Horrible as this was, it was important to him… Maybe he thought it could save him. I thought back to those weird forums he’d hung out on. I remember the strange occult one he’d shown me. He’d probably gotten the idea from there. Whatever he was planning probably wouldn’t actually work.
But what if it did…?
​
As I tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep, I started thinking more and more about the possibility that this might actually work. Sure, it was crazy… But maybe there was a chance it might help. Maybe this was all we needed to turn things around, to save him.
Maybe…
​
After school the next day, I went looking for a cat. I knew there were usually strays down by the old department store. I lured one out with a can of tuna I stole from the pantry and after a bit of trial and error, managed to trap it in a box, where I was able to slit its throat with a kitchen knife.
It was not easy… Not physically or emotionally.
​
I suppose in concept, killing an animal sounds a lot easier than it is. But as I looked at the blood on my hands, all I felt was sick…
​
I wanted to abandon the whole thing right then and there, go back to Cayden and tell him I couldn’t do it. He’d be disappointed. Maybe he’d even be mad, but could I really continue to go through with this? But by that point… I’d already finished the hardest part. Why not finish what I started?
​
I closed the box so I didn’t have to see the body as I brought it to the hospice.
​
The hospice had a nice little outdoor garden behind it. It was peaceful, with a little pond full of koi and some benches for reading. A stone path circled around the garden, winding through some of the trees and coming close to the woods out back. I took the cat there, setting the box behind some bushes before washing my hands one more time before visiting Cayden.
​
He looked as bad as he always did… But his eyes lit up when he saw me.
“Did you do it?”
The excitement in his voice caught me off guard. It seemed… Wrong, somehow. I almost told him I hadn’t. But instead, I just managed a quiet, uneasy nod.
​
Cayden managed a weak smile in response.
“Good… I want to go for a walk. Out by the woods in the garden… Can you take me?”
I asked the nurse to get his wheelchair. As we waited for her to bring it, he pointed one trembling finger towards a backpack sitting on a chair across the room.
“Bring that…”
I hesitated for a moment before slinging it over my shoulder.
​
We’d walked through the garden behind the hospice a few times before. It was peaceful there… But this time, I really didn’t want to go. Cayden seemed different than before. More excited. His body still seemed weak, almost on the verge of collapse but somehow he kept going, as if he’d been saving up the last of his strength just for this.
​
As I pushed Cayden along the path, I saw his eyes lingering on the woods. At his request, I’d set the backpack in his lap and he hugged it tight to his chest with both arms.
​
When I stopped in front of the place where I’d hidden the body. He slowly opened the backpack and took something out. It was clearly a herculean effort for him to give me what he gave me. I wasn’t quite sure what it was at first. I had to turn it over in my hands a few times before I figured it out but when I did… I felt my heart skip a beat.
​
He’d just given me a switchblade.
“I need you to do this for me… I can’t… Too weak… I need you to be… be my hands…”
I looked back at him, speechless. There was a stern, almost resolute look in his eye. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I took a deep breath and asked him what he needed me to do.
​
At Cayden's request, I took the cat from the box and propped it up with some sticks. Then, I used the switchblade to cut open its stomach.
​
The smell and sight of its entrails made me gag and retch… But I did it anyways. The whole while, Cayden sat in his wheelchair, watching me intently.
​
“Read about this online…” He said, “They say it works… We’ll see. What have I got to lose…” He laughed humorlessly, before taking something else from the bag.
A small incense burner.
​
He told me to set the burner inside the hollowed out stomach of the cat… and I did as he asked. Then, I lit it and helped him out of his chair to inch closer to the twisted effigy we’d created.
​
Cayden collapsed to his knees in front of the desecrated cat. The smoke of the incense rose out of its open mouth and nose… Its empty eyes looked skyward, frozen in a silent scream. He patted the spot beside him and I knelt too, trying not to look at the face of the creature I’d killed… I asked myself what I was doing… Why I was doing this. But looking at Cayden and seeing the way he prostrated himself before the effigy made me almost believe it was worth it.
​
I could hear him speaking, whispering something I couldn’t clearly hear. As he spoke, he remained kneeling, never once lifting his head until he was done. Then, when he had finished whatever prayer he’d uttered, he took the switchblade and leaned in closer to the cat.
​
I watched as he began to carve a sigil into its body. His hand was shaking, but his movements were deliberate. He carved an inverted triangle and drew a line through the center. He carved two branching lines extending out of the triangle from the top facing up, two from the middle facing down, and two from the bottom also facing down. At last, he carved a V shape that intersected the four lines coming off bottom of the triangle.
​
I couldn’t watch anymore… I stood up, turning away as Cayden plunged his hand into the body of the cat to do something else. I never saw what…
​
I could hear him moving, hear him doing something but I didn’t allow myself to look. I’d seen enough. I could hear him breathing in the fumes from the incense and I could hear him whisper. I only looked back once to see him hunched over the effigy, and I could’ve sworn that the space around him seemed darker than before…
​
I closed my eyes and looked away again and I didn’t allow myself to acknowledge what he was doing until I finally heard him speak to me.
“It’s done… You can take me back now…”
Cayden had sank down into a sitting position. His hands were covered in blood that he wiped off onto his pants.
​
I wordlessly helped him back into his wheelchair. He slumped down into it, barely awake. He looked ready to pass out.
“Thank you…” Was all he said to me.
I didn’t reply. I just brought him back to his room.
​
When the nurse asked about the blood, I said that someone had killed a cat and left the body out back. It technically wasn’t a lie.
​
The last time I saw Cayden Kelly, he was dozing off as the nurse helped him back into his bed. He opened his eyes only briefly… And offered me a small, knowing smile. I never said goodbye to him. I just turned away and left as quickly as I could.
​
I’m not sure if that was a mistake or not.
​
I got the news the next day that Cayden had died during the night although in the end, it hadn’t been the cancer that had killed him. No… Cayden had cut his wrists while he was in bed that night. He’d bled out before the nurses could do anything about it.
​
I was told he’d probably been in a delirious state when he’d done it… I heard his Mom say that he’d been drawing on the walls in his own blood before he’d finally bled out.
I think I know what he drew…
​
The school held a memorial service for Cayden at the end of May. They asked me to speak at it. I told them I couldn’t. The excuse I gave was that the pain was still too fresh. The actual reason is that I had nothing I wanted to say.
​
Maybe that was wrong of me… But what I’d seen the last time we’d been together, what he’d made me take part in… I wasn’t so sure I could rightfully call him a friend after that. Maybe it was all just some delirium induced psychosis… A mad delusion cooked up by his mind as the cancer ripped him apart. Maybe… But I remember the way he looked as he knelt in front of the effigy. The single minded determination on his face…
​
No… I think he knew exactly what he was doing.
​
There were others spoke at his service. People who didn’t really know Cayden. Teachers, a few students who we’d technically known since first grade… But nobody who knew him like I did. I know that Cayden would’ve hated the way they talked about him, as if he was some beloved member of the community who’d been close to everyone. He would’ve laughed and called them all hypocrites and he would’ve been right. But I let them talk. I let them say what they thought was appropriate. It hardly mattered now. He wouldn’t be there to hear it.
​
I started having the nightmares a few days after Cayden died, but after the service, they only got worse.
​
In my dreams I’d see him in the woods, strung up like that cat was. His stomach would be cut open and his entrails spilled out of his body… But he was grinning from ear to ear as I approached him… He was smiling and laughing as if nothing was wrong, his body still skeletally thin and his face more skull like than it had been even in his final days.
​
He would only say one thing to me as he laughed. Just one.
“Look up in the trees, Mitch! Isn’t it beautiful?”
Then I’d look up… But I wouldn’t see it.
I woke up before I could.
​
In July, two months after Cayden died, Nick Carter hung himself in the woods outside of town.
​
A couple of hikers found his body after it had decayed so much his head had detached from the rest of him and sent him plummeting down to the ground. I heard about it over Facebook via a mutual friend… Even before they found his body though, people were talking about the last post Nick had made.
​
‘He’s there every night now… I’m going to the woods. I need to make it stop… I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.’
​
The funny thing is… I understood what he meant by that. I’ve been seeing him every night too… Every night in my dreams, laughing that horrible laugh of his…
​
I know I’m not the only one too… Judging by the comments under Nicks final post… I’m not the only one who still sees Cayden.
​
Another girl in our school died in a car accident yesterday. Apparently, she just drove off the road and crashed into a tree. People are saying it was deliberate.
Maybe they’re right…
​
I haven’t slept much lately. Every time I do, I dream of Cayden. Every night, he laughs and tells me to look up and through tears, I beg him not to make me do it.
​
But I do…
I see it now.
I see the bodies.
I see the empty branches with empty ropes, waiting for more… And I know that more are coming.
​
I don’t know what Cayden did before he died. I don’t know what I helped him do. I realize now that the ritual he performed wasn’t meant to save his life… Or at least, not the way I had hoped it would.
​
Every night I hear him laughing… Every night I see the nooses… And I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’ve tried not sleeping. But it doesn’t work. I’ll always have sleep eventually and he’ll always be there when I do. I’ve tried looking for information but I can’t find anything. I don’t know what he did or how to stop it.
​
I don’t know what I’ve done…
I don’t know what to do.
And I’m afraid.

the title. I'm making my own and when it comes to something like a mechanism, I wing it to fit what it needs to fit, but I'm not completely certain on how the mechanism works. from cutlery lovers video, it's just the button piece with a pin on the other end, then another leaf spring sort of piece to hold it down. but if anyone has a picture I would love to see.

PART TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY-FIVE
Sunday
The Cyclone wasn’t as bad as I envisioned. Yes, it rattled and sounded like it was going to fall apart, but it was cool to feel the difference between the give in timber versus the solid, unyielding frames of the newer steel ones. I still preferred the Soarin’ Eagle though and was grateful that it’s smooth ride meant that I could overlay with swimming in near zero-G.
I caught a glimpse of the beach from the top of the ride and looked out wistfully at the ocean beyond, but that would be our next day trip. A picnic on a quiet beach somewhere, strolling through the edges of the surf and enjoying the way the sand disappeared under our bare feet as the wave drew back once more. I was a simple guy like that.
After the Cyclone, Gerry hinted at wanting something to eat and led us towards Feltman’s for what she considered a classically original hotdog. I followed along, watching her eyes and smile get bigger and bigger with each shop and ride we passed.
It was then that something Thomas said earlier suddenly came back to me. “You have been here before, haven’t you, Angel?” I asked, over the crowd. I mean, I knew why I hadn’t been. Apart from moving all over the world with the cause, Mom and I never had the money to indulge in amusement parks. But Gerry was a wealthy New Yorker that was born and raised here. There was no reason that I could think of for why she wouldn’t have come to Coney Island before now.
“I’ve always wanted to,” she gushed, not picking up on the suspicious note in my enquiry. Which was probably for the best as I was starting to draw conclusions that, when added to the foul mood I’d been in, would spoil our outing.
“I’ve studied every map and watched every documentary, and did you know that online they have this new three-sixty virtual experience on some of their more popular rides? If you take that site and put your phone in a VR headset, it really makes you feel like you’re on them!”
“Does it really?” I asked now that she’d experienced the real deals for herself.
Her elation fell a little. “Well, no, not really,” she admitted, then brightened back up again straight away. “But it was enough to let me know I wanted to try it.” She pointed at Feltman’s which was only a few feet away. “Same with this! They only reopened a couple of years ago, but they claim to have the same recipe as the original from a hundred and fifty years ago!”
I knew about her mother’s crazy health kick from the things Gerry brought for lunch and different things she’d said about mine (before she tasted Robbie’s cooking and shut up). Letting this happen would make me her hero and drive her mother insane.
Win/win.
Right then and there I decided I was going to spend every dime in my account if it would serve the dual purpose of giving her an awesome day and sticking it to that woman for good measure. I gave over my last twenty in cash and let her take the change. “Thomas,” I called, knowing if he was anything like Angus, he’d materialise ten seconds later … if that.
In Thomas’ case, it was closer to twenty, but I suppose not everyone could be as good as Angus.
“Yes, sir?”
“I need to go and get some extra cash. Would you stay with Gerry while I’m gone?”
“Do you know where the ATMs are, sir?”
Ahh…yeah. That might help too, all things considered. I scratched the back of my head. “Not really…”
He lifted his chin and kicked it to the south. “In the Amusement Arcade at the other end of this block. Where I first dropped you off. The cash machines are just inside the door.”
I nodded my appreciation. “Thanks.”
Gerry held her hotdog and chocolate thick shake to her chest as if they were made of gold. “I can come too,” she argued.
“No, you stay here and enjoy your hotdog and drink. I’ll be right back.” I looked at Thomas. “You got this?”
Thomas smirked. “Yes, sir.”
Not wanting to be away from Gerry too long, I legged it down the sidewalk and ducked into the arcade. A quick scan of the room had me finding what I was looking for, and a few seconds later I was putting my card into the machine.
Next question was how much cash to get out? Two months ago, I used to sweat over having the week’s rent of seventy dollars in my wallet. Seventy bucks wasn’t going to get me far in Coney Island. I decided on three hundred as a starting point, and I swear my hand shook as I tapped the second zero and enter buttons in that order.
As the machine whirred and spat out my cash and card, I heard a sharp urk behind me. Wanting to protect my belongings, I grabbed my card and money and swung around. At first, I didn’t see anything, but that was probably because I was stuffing my cash into my jacket pocket and I hadn’t thought to look down yet.
People shouted and came running, and it was only then that I lowered my gaze to where a guy a little older and bigger than me was on his back, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish and his eyes extended to their extreme limit. His back was arched off the floor and his hands grasping at his throat and mouth, tangling his fingers on the gold necklace he wore.
People rushed to him, pushing us back. Someone picked up a small switchblade by the tip and passed it off to a security guard who took it in a handkerchief.
“Did anyone see what happened?” he bellowed.
I waited to see if anyone had. Gerry wasn’t going to believe this and I wanted as much information as I could garner.
No one volunteered anything, which was disappointing, to say the least.
The security guy muttered under his breath at our lack of response and said, “Nathan, check the security feed. People, if you’re not part of this, please give our medics room to work.”
What … oh, there, I thought to myself, as the paramedics pushed their way through and knelt beside the downed man. Unlike everyone else who thought their nosiness gave them the right to ignore the directive, I saw it as my cue to leave. I knew basic first aid and could tell he was in respiratory distress, but the pros were on hand and Gerry was waiting for me.
It took me a few minutes, but Gerry was just slurping down the last of her chocolate thick shake. Thomas stood to the right of her table, looking for all the world like a grim reaper. The fuck with me and you will die vibe was coming off him in waves. In fact, with the dark glasses and the way he held himself, the only thing missing was the white curly cable in the ear. Gerry didn’t seem to mind his hovering though, and it did keep her safe.
“You’re not going to believe this,” I said, sliding into the seat opposite her. “A guy just choked on something in the arcade.” I thumbed in the direction I came. “He’s lucky the arcade has medics on hand or he’d have been in real trouble.”
“That’s why they have medics on hand, honey-bear. Otherwise, the lawsuits would cripple a place like this.”
“So, now that I’m all cashed up, where did you want to go next?”
Gerry sucked down the last sips of foam then licked her lips and nervously nibbled at one side of them.
The hesitation irked me. “Seriously,” I insisted. “What did you want to do now?”
“Will you get mad if I went to William’s Candy Shop … just to look?”
I frowned at that. “Why would you want to just look at a candy shop, and not buy anything?”
“Because it’s all sugar. It’s-it’s fattening,” she insisted.
Your damn mother again. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. “Sure, Angel. We’ll go and look to your heart’s content.” I made a mental note to watch her eyes when we got there. Anything she looked at for longer than two seconds, I’d be back to get for her later. I glanced up at Thomas, who hadn’t moved a muscle except to twist his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, man, but is there any chance you can … I don’t know … dial that down a bit?”
The corner of his lips twitched. “Habit of a lifetime, sir. But I will endeavour to try.”
“I appreciate that, man. Either that or if you could drift back into the background a bit. Whatever takes your preference.”
“Perhaps a blend of both, sir.”
“Sounds good.” I slid out of my seat and held my hand out to Gerry. “C’mon, beautiful. I’m guessing you know where this candy shop is?”
The twinkle in her eyes as she slid her hand into mine made me want to slay dragons for her … or buy out a certain candy store. Good thing I didn’t have access to Dad’s money yet.
* * *
Later that evening:
As the sliding drawer containing the recently deceased was pushed into the wall, the medical examiner shook her head and closed the door. “That had to be the single most unlucky man in the whole world,” she declared, turning back to the police officer who was finishing up his notes on the matter. “He was wearing a medic alert necklace that said he was allergic to wasp stings and was stung multiple times in the back of the throat by a wasp. In the middle of Coney Island no less. Do you know the odds of that? That in a crowded arcade, the one person who was guaranteed to have a severe anaphylactic reaction opened his mouth just as a wasp flew by?” The medical examiner shook his head.
“Between you and me, Doc. This one’s no loss. He’s well known to us for petty theft and assault. If he was in that arcade, he wasn’t there to play the games.”
“Still, no one deserves to die like that. Did you know suffocation is ranked number eleven in the list of worst ways to die? Right behind crucifixion and being eaten by cannibals. The list also says burning to death is the worst, though personally, I find the Brazen Bull to be particularly heinous. Not only because of how long it took the person to die, but because its very design was to turn the dying’s screams into the bull’s bellowing to entertain the cheering crowd and then the poor soul’s scorched bones were fashioned into jewelry and sold to the onlookers as keepsakes.”
The ME rolled one hand, palm upwards. “So much for the Greeks being the epitome of all things civilised in the ancient world, eh?”
“I guess it depends on what you compare it to,” the officer replied, absently.
“That’s true,” she agreed.
* * *
​
TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY-SIX
​
Previous Part 294
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I'd love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including previous parts or WPs: Angel466 or indexed here
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!

Happy post Turkey-geddon.
In my normal week I usually hear 2-3 different tips over pedals and over the years I've accumulated a few ¢2 tips and a couple $1.02 tips. I thought I'd share some of mine and invite you to share yours.
2¢ tips.
Non-9v cables and pedals; add white / red electrical tape to the cables (both ends) to the guitar housing and the PSU. White is easier to see in the dark and there is glow in the dark electrical tape you can use because stages are dark. I also mark high power consuming lines as well with stripes of tape on the cable.
Tracking down hum/noise. The easiest way to track down hum is to isolate the parts of your process and logistically add parts by their type. Try to avoid plugging long cables not connected to anything and avoid wearing your guitar+it plugged in while troubleshooting till the end. Your proximity to the amp/pedals/PSUs+guitar can cause feedback and noise. If you have a looper and want to test noise with that I highly encourage it instead of fiddling with guitar while trying to juggle all this. One thing you'll notice from live performances is when a guitar player is done playing they'll dial the volume all the way down or stomp a mute pedal. Feedback is a pain in the ass.
Start with plugging your amp, sans guitar and pedal board, into a surge protector to your wall outlet. If there is noise try dialing back the amp gain, if that doesn't resolve it, then the issue may be the amp (it's crappy or has a grounding issue) or your local power. For 50$ you can get a UPS backup power battery and run your amp off that. If, when running it on UPSbattery, the noise persists it's your amp and probably not your outlet. If you are connecting your amp to your computer during this please don't. The amp should also be isolated from other electronic equipment.
When adding pedals and checking for noise confirm the following for each pedal; Draw, voltage, center pin polarity, digitalvAnalog, overgaining and make sure to use the same wall outlet / source to avoid ground loop hum from the house / building electrical system and have a healthy stock of patch cables for swapping.
If the draw isn't fullfilled then the pedal will hum(analog) or crackle/be inoperable(digital). If the voltage is too high, you're risking a fire hazard, if the center polarity is off you're risking a fire hazard, if it's over-gaining you'll notice as you dial down the compression/sustain/boost/gain/distortion an annoying prevelant frequency disappears and you may want to holistically look at how much compression you're running in the chain and you'll typically want to isolate digital from analog and positive pin polarity from negative pin polarity when providing power sources. There is also different types of grounding that can cause issues in analog pedals daisy chained together, but that's rarer and can be troubleshot with a 2.1mm+9v adapter.
If you add a pedal and down chain you hear prevelant clicking that pedal may have a DC power bleed, it's that pedal at issue not the ones downchain from it. In this same vein it is possible for portions of a pedal to be broken, like the buffer, so disabling the buffer (or enabling it) may resolve the issue.
If a pedal pops once, then not again until powered down and back up Mr Black did a write up about this and it's normally shitty pedal designed. Put those pedals behind a loop (Boss ps5 as a cheap example) and use the loop to isolate them and clear the pops if you're a speaker cork sniffer or playing live with dubious power.
Don't forget PSU can also be defective or misused. "Draw too much" from a daisy chain, dp1 style PSU or even a single isolated slot can cause noise. This is a very backwards concept and doesn't line up with how these actually function so make sure you're providing at least enough power to to power everything and we can avoid all this backwardsness.
PSU can also have grounding issues / design defects. You can buy on Amazon a 2.1mm connector with a 9v battery connection and independently check most <300mA pedals with it. If you buy the wrong polarity cable just cut the wires and switch them around. (Positive polarity cables cost 1/3 that of negative and I swap them around to save cash). A 9v battery can power up to 400-600mA, but drains very fast at that amount, so I normally only test sub300mA pedals with this setup and have other PSUs for testing hungry pedals (like the DOD LUX).
If you follow the whole process without noise and plug your singlecoil guitar in and there is hum... You have alternate options. Pick a field coiled single coiled platform, humbuckers parallel wired(70% effectivity), keyztone Exchanger, noiseless single coils(please God no) or speak with a tech about the possibility of a phase cancelling setup and/or parallel wiring or Faraday caging your system. Almost all my guitars are Faraday caged. (Unpopular opinion; Stewmacs paint is shit. Takes 10 coats and accumulatively a fuck ton of time to dry between coats. Trust me, your tech didn't do it right unless they're bitching about dry time and application. Just use copper tape or tin foil and make sure to ground it to the bridge and get the pickup housing.)
Your Faraday caging only works as well as the thickness of it's "bars" around the antenna receiver parts and all sections being grounded(to your bridge). A single wire through a small porting hole is a shitty antenna. Your pots and switch metal are much better, backside of pickups too. Will's Guitar YouTube channel goes over just insulating your positive line may be enough and I'm not sure about all that, but it's easier to Faraday caged if you're swapping pickups.
If you want to check for true stereo wiring plug the A out into the B in and output to amp from B out. If it's true stereo it should be able to run both lines into each other without shitting a brick. Please do this with your 50$ practice amp and not a Marshall halfstack.
When running parallel lines you need to buffer both lines and cannot simply buffer the source. (ehx switchblade pro diagram as an example).
If you run ODs parallel you can pick two different compression profiles and combine them. Makes it easier to retain low end tightness and high end precision. Assuming you have taken the time to determine your pedals frequency relationship.
If you run modulation in parallel line you may need to compensate for phase if you experience a large volume drop in a channel.
Your ears are lying to you. The reason we feel bass, but hear mids is our ear frequency bias. You can still get headaches from too much bass and you should keep a decibel meter near your amp when testing it's output in case you're falling for this bias.
Almost all bass guitar amps lineouts are garbage. Some effect loops on amps are just a checkbox and suck/distort off the connectors. There's nothing wrong with running your pedals through the preamp of the amplifier, unless it's distorting for you and you don't want it to.
If you're using a tube amplifier, but never overdrive the tubes you may want to pick a more stable and maintenance friendly amp. This doesn't mean going digital, there are analog options without tubes.
If you're a psychopath running 30+dB of boost on your board you'll find buffers do a 1-4dB loss, modulation pedals distort, compressors can become overdrive's and digital pedals don't always work as expected.
Most EQs are graphical, the alternative being parametric. Graphic bands impact a lot of proximal frequencies. If you cut your 10ks to remove noise on a crappy EQ you may also end up cutting a whole bunch of your low end as well. Depending of how crappy it is. Our tone knobs and bass mids treble on almost all pedals also work graphically.
Almost any active pedal on your board acts as a buffer. If you always have a compressor on, front of chain, then immediately follow it with a buffer you may have bought the wrong compressor.
The marketing and labelling of pedals is just about total bullshit. Tape delays should have a warble modulation sound in the delay, like a tape starting and stopping, and quietly fade away. Lofi delay typically means lower quality (sample size/frequency range) in the delays and analog delays should be using some sort of BBD or alternate analog and decay the signal through the cycling of the delay circuit. A shitty digital delay chip shouldn't be marketed as an analog delay, but in some instances it is.
When purchasing a multi-function pedal make sure to read the manual before buying. Some over express their options and functionality.
Boss dd7 first several modes are actually tap divisions of the standard digital mode and only the standard digital delay can use those division options. The Empress SuperDelay(Vintage) really only has a couple delay types in it, with many of the options choosing between tap tempo or using a knob instead. Still love it, but man that sure is shitty.
More relevant to now, often when pedals are discontinued retailers will purge their stock. The Elektron analog drive and Pigtronix Tremvelope are two examples dumped down to 100$ to clear out the stock.
Alright, cars oil change almost done. How about your tips?

When push comes to shove, sometimes you just want to shove a sharpened stick into another ape’s vital organs.
Roll on sub-tables if you wish to do so. Tailor results to your liking, I’m not your dad.
These don’t have to be sword either, it’s fun to think of how these modifiers could be applied to other weapon types as well.
Start by rolling a d6

1. Metal (Roll on all three tables)
   
   1. Metal
      
      1. Tungsten
      2. Gold
      3. Silver
      4. Damascus steel
      5. Black iron
      6. Aluminium
      7. Mythril
      8. Adamantium
      9. Lead
      10. Solid mercury
      11. Electrum
      12. Copper
   2. Shape
      
      1. A clockwork device
         1. The blade flicks out of the hilt, like a giant switchblade
         2. The sword can be broken up into pieces and put back together easily. It is easy for the wielder to dismantle the weapon, but not an enemy
         3. The weapon can shift into the shape of another weapon entirely, or even two smaller ones
         4. A grappling hook is embedded in the hilt
         5. The sword also functions as a gun. Combat skirts not included, nor required
         6. The blade of the weapon can be launched as a projectile
         7. The blade of the weapon is jet propelled
         8. Chainsaw sword
      2. Eldritch affectations
         1. The swordsmith’s name/mark is stamped on the blade. It also appears branded on the corpses of foes slain by it
         2. The blade’s mirror polished surface slowly covers itself in bloody crimson tally marks, one for each death by its edge
         3. Wounds from the blade blacken and turn septic as soon as the blow is struck
         4. Creatures slain by its edge sink into the ground, leaving behind their valuables. A grave marker of bone erects itself over the next few weeks, sporting their full name, date of birth, date of death, and preferred epitaph
         5. Creatures killed by this blade do not rot, and scavengers will not touch their corpse. The meat is rendered indigestible, and will pass through the body whole if ingested
         6. The blade has a tendency to shatter other weapons, whose fragments sublime into black smoke immediately afterwards
   3. Ornamentation
      
      1. The crossguard is styled like a skeletal head and ribcage
      2. The blade is covered in strange runes in a very dead language-
         1. A creole of two (Roll again twice)
         2. Ancient Draconic
         3. Enochian
         4. Celestial
         5. Modronic
         6. High Infernal
         7. Atlantean
         8. Ancient dwarven
      3. The blade is barbed
      4. The blade is serrated
      5. The crossguard is styled like a rose, and the hilt cannot be grasped without gauntlets due to its thorns
      6. The sword is all one piece
      7. The sword’s blade is covered in linen strips that whip like streamers in an unseen wind
      8. The sword’s blade is covered in thin chains that whip like streamers in an unseen wind
      9. The crossguard bears a mirror
      10. The Hilt is actually a scroll that can be unrolled to reveal-
          1. A masterful drawing of a(n)-
             1. Naked ogre
             2. Dead rat
             3. Angel
             4. Knight
             5. Cat
             6. Two dogs
             7. Wizard
             8. Naked woman
             9. Angry gnome
             10. Alien sky
             11. Demon
             12. Naked man
             13. Old man with a mushroom hat
             14. Stork
             15. The same sword
             16. A different sword (Roll up a new one)
             17. A lot of mice
             18. A spider’s web
             19. A fairy village
             20. Two goblins kissing
          2. Runes in a dead language
             1. A creole of two (Roll again twice)
             2. Ancient draconic
             3. Enochian
             4. Celestial
             5. Modronic
             6. High infernal
             7. Atlantean
             8. Ancient dwarven
          3. A poem about-
             1. Birds
             2. Women
             3. Cats
             4. The writer’s fears (Roll again on this table)
             5. Loneliness
             6. Demons
             7. Angels
             8. God
             9. Math
             10. Love
             11. Men
             12. Bubblegum
             13. Adventure
             14. Sadness
             15. Happiness
             16. The apocalypse
             17. Horses
             18. The king
             19. The sword
             20. Music
          4. A diagram for making-
             1. Moonshine
             2. An automaton
             3. The same sword
             4. A different sword (Roll up a new one)
2. Non-Metal
   
   1. Green ceramic
   2. Glass
      1. Polished crystal
      2. Spiderwebbed with cracks, yet as durable as steel
      3. Obsidian
      4. Mosaic stained glass, depicting-
         1. A pitched, bloody battle
         2. A beautiful, tastefully nude
            1. Man
            2. Woman
            3. Androgynous figure
            4. Man and Woman
         3. A serpent coiled around the length of the blade
         4. The last battle the wielder participated in
   3. Stone
      1. Volcanic, swirling, almost organic
      2. Hardened clay brick. It’s unclear how it even hold an edge
      3. Smooth, polished marble
         1. Stolen from a temple. Half of some holy verse stretches down the side of the blade before being cut off
         2. Signed by a famous sculptor
         3. Which is carved like a sculpture of-
            1. A pitched, bloody battle
            2. A beautiful, tastefully nude- (Use The previous table for stained glass. reddit's Formatting options are crumbling around me)
            3. A serpent coiled around the blade
            4. The wielder. All that behold the sword can agree, it looks just like the one holding it
         4. Has the word Cowabunga written on it
      4. Limestone, the blade formed naturally; so it seems
   4. Plastic
3. Magical
   
   1. Hammered shadow
      1. That shifts and snaps like black fire
      2. That oozes like pitch. Indistinct faces boil out, snarl, and dissipate
      3. That sports wicked barbs and thorns, ready to entangle and devour
      4. That whispers-
         1. Quietly and sweetly
         2. Rakishly and cruelly
         3. With a soft lisp. It likes you
         4. In an indistinct murmur
   2. Crystallized magic of the-
      1. Evocation school
      2. Necromancy school
      3. Divination school
      4. Abjuration school
      5. Illusion school
      6. Enchantment school
      7. Transmutation school
      8. Conjuration school
   3. A blade forged of dreams
      1. Pleasant ones, all pink and sweet. It smells like a spring breeze
      2. Vile nightmares, touching it feels like falling, like being stripped bare before a baleful gaze; like black water filling the room so that you have to stand on the tips of your toes just to catch the faintest breath of air, lips pressed against the uncaring cold stone ceiling. It smells of reptiles
      3. Daydreams, the blade has a glassy, ethereal quality. If the wielder doesn’t need it, it faintly drifts out of reality
      4. The uncanny and indistinct. The sword sports no edge, has faint flecks of some brown filth coating it, and seems a little too long, too strangely curved, to be an effective weapon; yet it rends flesh all the same
   4. A sentient weapon with the personality of a(n)-
      1. Murderer on death’s row
      2. Faintly upset dog
      3. Angry gnome
      4. Wizard
      5. Necromancer
      6. Modron
      7. Bodybuilder with an appreciation for well-muscled men
      8. Boring man who can’t stop talking
      9. Frightened little girl
      10. Pissed off Illithid
      11. Smug braggart
      12. Melancholy poet
      13. Regretful killer
      14. Unwilling killer
      15. Confused cat
      16. Anatomist
      17. Blasphemer
      18. Devout monk
      19. Curious outsider
      20. Robot
4. Elemental
   
   1. Fire
      1. Salamanders crawl across the surface of the blade, mewling in an incendiary tongue
      2. A blade forged of pure fire in the deepest calderas of Tartarus, it cuts through sheer heat alone
      3. A stalagmite that drips with molten rock, its tip glowing with infernal heat
      4. The fang of a fire demon, its rage drips like venom from the tip
      5. A candle whose flame extends into a blade of fire when lit
      6. A metal tube that emits a chromatic beam
         1. Green
         2. Blue
         3. Red
         4. Gold (But only in the expanded universe)
         5. Purple
         6. Black
   2. Ice
      1. A carved frost mammoth’s tusk, there’s a raging blizzard inside
      2. A black metal rod coated in rime and boiling fog. It cuts through sheer cold alone
      3. A blade cut from Stygian ice, it will never melt, and it steals souls just as well as heat. You can see their faces pressed against the surface at night
      4. A fractal web of razor-edged ice crystals
      5. The blood of a saint frozen into the shape of a blade. A saint’s corpse never decays, and neither can this blade, nor its cutting edge
      6. An ancient ancestral yeti soul infused into a blade carved of the bones of the one that killed it. Its icy wrath extends beyond the pale
   3. Air
      1. A gentle breeze folded and compacted until it became a thin edge of wailing death
      2. A long feather that commands the wind. It cuts through sheer air pressure alone
      3. A strange tube device that inhales air and shoots it out the tip as a razor-sharp blade
      4. The talon of a harpy. A single prick from the blade’s edge seems to suck the breath from your lungs
      5. The blade is rendered invisible through some trickery of air magic. Its rightful wielder can hear its mournful cry at separation
      6. A sword ornamented with wings, its crossguard is a pair of them, its hilt is an overlapping procession of them, and its blade appears to be two of them pressed together. Wounds struck by it gush a strange red gas instead of blood
   4. Lightning
      1. Instead of a blade, this weapon has a lightning elemental in a glass tube. With a twist of a knob on the hilt, the “blade” becomes electrified. The elemental appears as a-
         1. Cloud of blue fog, crackling with lightning
         2. Spindly luminescent creature reminiscent of a sea urchin crossed with an octopus
         3. Bird with crystalline green feathers that crackle with energy
         4. Yellow rat with rosy cheeks and a thunderbolt-shaped tail
      2. A lightning rod that crackles with captured heavenly wrath once aimed at a particularly crafty blasphemer. It cuts through sheer electric energy alone
      3. A handheld device that creates an incredibly sharp electromagnetic field in the shape of a blade
      4. A blade of amber, any severe motion brings out a ferocious glow of red lightning
   5. Water
      1. A glass rapier with a small water-filled bowl set in the hilt that houses-
         1. An octopus that stretches its tentacles out into the hollow strand of the basket hilt. It also works a crank that spins the drill blade incredibly quickly. This option grants the sword a drill blade
         2. Sea jellies. They don’t do much except silently judge others
         3. Toxic slime, the tip of the sword is actually a needle that unleashes the monster into enemies’ bloodstreams
         4. A tiny sleeping baby fish demigod. If the blade ever breaks, the spawn of Dagon will rain down terror upon all within it sight
         5. A water elemental. Breaking the sword unleashes it, but it’s far more reasonable than the Dagon-spawn
         6. A tiny water-cat. They’re just really small cats that can breathe underwater. It can speak to cats for you. It feeds on a diet of domesticated sea-monkeys
      2. A water fountain in the shape of a horse that spews out an intense blade of water that falls off into droplets after a few feet. The droplets dry after a second. The blade cuts through sheer water pressure alone
      3. The petrified claw of some ancient creature that lived along the bottom of the primordial ocean. Its cut brings ancient fish instincts to the front of the mind
      4. A barnacle-encrusted piece of ancient stonework. Its touch fills your ears with a great pressure that pulses like a dreadful giant’s heart
   6. Quintessence
      1. A shining crystal blade with small approximations of the planets orbiting it. There’s one planet that isn’t known, however, floating parallel to the inhabited planet, perpetually out of sight behind the sun, which the blade likely represents
      2. A blade of many parts, as if an ordinary blade had been cut with a jigsaw. Each part floats a set distance from the other as if the holes were filled with glass, though an inquisitive finger can determine that they are not
      3. An otherwise ordinary blade that seems to hum with a comforting presence. It smells like your mother’s cooking, feels like freshly laundered sheets, stings like a merciful executioner’s axe
      4. A silver blade with a bell set in the hilt. It doesn’t ring, though an expert’s analysis would turn up no defect in the craftsmanship
5. Organic
   
   1. Living wood that-
      1. Serves as a host for-
         1. A sentient fungal hivemind
         2. Many insects-
            1. Spiders
            2. Grasshoppers
            3. Locusts with human faces
            4. Tiny Insectoid humanoids
         3. A single very angry gnome
         4. The last fragments of a dying elf’s consciousness
      2. Blooms fragrant blossoms at every dawn, which slowly dwindle and die in correspondence with its wielder’s life force
      3. Demands blood sacrifice-
         1. Feed me, Seymour
         2. Through grim telepathic visions filled with sanguine carnage
         3. With bloodthirsty tendrils clawing their way up the wielder’s arm with every foe slain
         4. Or else it will wither and die, losing some functionality as a weapon
      4. Is covered in crystal blue eyes. They weep tears of pure water-
         1. At the sight of bloodshed
         2. For a good song or poem
         3. When their wielder feels anger
         4. If they do not see the sun for an hour
   2. Living flesh
      1. A normal sword apparently overtaken by red bloody moss. The moss is prone to disease and infection; so are those struck by the blade. The wielder develops an immunity to any disease stored in the blade
      2. A desiccated mummy limb clutching a long knife. The arm twists to impale the wielder’s foe when swung
      3. A mantid claw that snaps out at the apex of the wielder’s swing, increasing its speed and power
      4. A twisted bone blade that sinks into the flesh of the wielder’s arm in lieu of a scabbard
   3. A blade carved from black bone
      1. Any wound caused by it sprouts fleshy tendrils that wave in the breeze
      2. Blood shed by the blade-
         1. Boils away into black fog almost immediately
         2. Is drunk greedily by the ravenous weapon
         3. Morphs into tiny lumpy homunculi of the wielder and their enemy, locked in upsettingly brutal battles of their own
         4. Orbits the wielder like a sanguine monsoon
   4. A harsh single-edged weapon of raw muscle and sharpened bone that-
      1. Sports a single baleful eye
      2. Has an exposed heart that pulses in sync to the wielders. After a few weeks of wielding it, the blade will begin to extend veins into its wielder’s arm, connecting their bloodstreams
      3. Writhes in proximity to fiends and celestials
      4. Turns transparent in direct sunlight
6. Theoretical
   
   1. The sword is made of math. It’s not clear how that works, but the entire thing is made out of flat planes of washed out blue… stuff. Each line comprising the blade has its length written in the air next to it, and each angle has its degree written likewise
   2. It’s the idea of a sword. It has no mass and isn’t made of anything, per se, but it cuts just as well as if it really existed. You couldn’t draw a picture of it, but you could vaguely describe it as a sword. It’s more like a sharp hole in reality that your brain has decided is a sword so that it can worry about the important things, like what to cut with it
   3. The sword hides in your speech. When you talk, it can leap out between the meaning conveyed by the waves of sound and attacks like a viper. It appears to the target as if a blade is leaping out from behind the images in their head conjured by their opponent words. To the wielder, it feels like something heavy is leaping off their tongue. Observers can’t see it at all. Despite all this, the weapon can be blocked and parried as if it were real. It cannot attack creatures or objects that cannot comprehend the language being spoken by the wielder
   4. The letter t. A giant black lowercase letter t. It’s two dimensional, and the only safe place to hold it is by the short part at the top. Anywhere else is incredibly sharp. It can cut through almost anything, except books, paper, and letters. If it touches any of the above, it gets sucked in and becomes an ordinary letter t

Yeah, those last ones are a bit whack. You can skip ‘em if you want. I have no idea if this is 100 or not. I’m too scared to check at this point. Reddit's formatting sucks, I had to do this by hand and it was a nightmare.
EDIT: DLC I guess, D100 Metal/edgy/cool sword names, for your newly christened weapon
Credit to Git777 for some of these, and the idea in general; I hope this was what you were looking for!

1. Dire vanquisher
2. Cosmic ascension
3. Steel redeemer
4. Astral defender
5. Sky striker
6. Crimson immolation
7. Obsidian storm
8. Thunderchild
9. Demonica
10. Black razor
11. Venom driver
12. Void kiss
13. Soul biter
14. Abyssal lurker
15. Valor heart
16. Truth singer
17. Hearts rend
18. Devil shrieker
19. Brain cleaver
20. Cataclysm
21. Rebellion
22. Untainted aggression
23. Night alloy
24. Big iron
25. Ogre bolg
26. Shriekstealer
27. Baneblade
28. Rune cleft
29. Ashen achiever
30. Nightwar
31. Enforcer
32. Edgeless dark
33. Heart barb
34. Eye stinger
35. Artemis edge
36. Volcano cleaver
37. Chin music
38. Hope’s retort
39. Sharp reprisal
40. Cruel implement
41. Consecration impaler
42. Rage of the unborn
43. Neverborn
44. Thanatos’ law
45. Joyful retribution
46. Kerberos
47. Fist raised in anger
48. Oblivion razor
49. Hellraiser
50. Tartarus
51. Broken age
52. Broken wail
53. Bulwark
54. Innocence
55. Paradise gate
56. Inferno sentinel
57. Thirsting edge
58. The awoken blade
59. Sleepless hound
60. Devil breaker
61. Gale force
62. Gleeful cutter
63. Deus ruptor
64. Lotus
65. Eater
66. Frigid gale
67. Bloody howl
68. Odyssey’s omen
69. Grim dirge
70. Harbinger rage
71. Savage law
72. Unceasing violence
73. Bloody Ouroboros
74. Ender
75. Flawless execution
76. The breaker
77. Thunderclast
78. Cageless beast
79. Unhindered violence
80. Chill wind
81. Sorrow
82. Vital transgressor
83. Gilded uprising
84. Aegis tongue
85. Cruel touch
86. Prophetic cacophony
87. Silent harbinger
88. Unveiled threat
89. Compelled fist
90. Nightmare abolisher
91. Silent voice
92. Siren’s slave
93. Broken advance
94. Fallen dream
95. Heartbreaker
96. Punctured ambition
97. Scheme
98. Reviled usurper
99. Despise
100. Unholy aggressor

It would be worthwhile to mention up front that I was a serial killer because, at the time, she had no idea. And she shouldn’t have, I looked normal enough.
I was dressed for the cool summer weather under the awning of the outdoor portion of the restaurant. With my Haggar dress shirt, Wrangler jeans, and tan Sperrys, I was no more uncommon looking than any other man walking the streets that day. Actually, I was more college looking than most of the men walking past us; you could say I embodied that sort of split, opinionated style between “fashionable” and “try hard.” Really, from a first glance, you would probably just consider me normal. I just had one secret; well, a rather large secret.
My eHarmony profile was simple enough. “Looking for a good time with a great girl.” You know, real ladies man. My pictures, few as they were, showed a casual laid back kind of guy. Truthfully, my physicality was my saving grace. Had I been cursed with a cleft chin or bad acne perhaps I may have been more susceptible to reveal my interior motives. But I had a physical presence, and I embraced it.
“So,” I began, “I read on your profile you like to bird watch.”
“Well, it’s just a small hobby,” she said. “I don’t want to come off as some crazy bird lover; I do prefer the company of humans. If it makes you feel better, I prefer watching humans as opposed to birds.”
“That’s comforting, I was considering calling over that pigeon to see if he wanted to pay for the drinks.”
“Oh? I’m boring you that much?”
We shared a laugh, a genuine one. No seriously, we really were laughing at the humor between us. Chemistry, it’s exactly the preliminary goals I needed. She needed to feel the same for my sake, and only needed to feel it for the next couple hours. If I played my cards right, I knew she wouldn’t live long enough to change her opinion.
Looking back over her, I couldn’t help but smile at my accomplishment, or rather, what I had accomplished so far. She had a great smile, a great body, really, a great everything. I was a bit skeptical when I first asked her out, that perhaps she was too high up the totem pole of “leagues” and therefore firmly out of mine. But my first request to her was met rather quickly. I suggested drinks and she agreed, simple as that. Kind of makes you wish it were always that simple, especially since you’re probably not a psychotic killer like me. You’d get drinks, have some good conversation, take her home if you got lucky, and if all went well, you’d hopefully see each other again. But that wasn’t my plan, that last part at least. I smiled at the thought, and fondled the switch blade resting in my left pocket.
“Well,” I said, “when you aren’t occupied by birds, what else do you like to do?”
“Oh I don’t know… like I said, I like to watch people. To be honest, I go on a lot of dates. Which sounds bad, I know, but I guess I just really like meeting new people. Finding their complexities and sweet spots…”
“Sweet spots?”
“You know. The things that make them tick. What makes them unique individuals?”
“I can understand that. I suppose you could say I look for certain sweet spots too.”
The gut, jugular, sometimes starting at the webbing of the fingers and working my way in. I spoke with a flirty demeanor though, so of course none of that was inferred. She gave a smile (though he didn’t catch if she was blushing or not) and returned to her drink. The way her body moved, even just lifting her glass and gulping down liquid, the most minute of actions had me racing. I needed to get her alone; I just had to make sure I wouldn’t fuck the buildup.
Honestly, you know this isn’t going to end well. You might as well just stop reading and go read something about ponies, or rainbows, or butterflies, or some other happy shit. But I know some of you are more twisted than you care to mention, so I suppose I’ll continue for those select individuals.
At this point, the date was going on well past the thirty minute mark. The first five were spent waiting for drinks, the next five were filled with awkward gulps and silence, but the last twenty minutes had been nothing but good vibes and flirtation. Usually, it would take me longer to get out of the awkward phase of the date; not because I didn’t know what to say or couldn’t find a good subject to talk about, I was just spending that time examining every facet of the woman across from me. You can only get so much from online pictures after all. I suppose there was a reason for actually dissecting pigs in high school as opposed to simply viewing pictures or diagrams.
Let’s just say I was done looking at pictures. I was ready to turn this into a “hands on experience,” I just needed a way to ease into leaving together. Take a walk outside? No, we were deep in downtown and a walk to the inviting adult shop on the corner wasn’t my idea of an aesthetically pleasing vista. Netflix? That would be the excuse most young people would give these days, “Netflix and chill” or some stupid shit like that. But maybe she was okay with watching movies, a possible avenue I could explore with more conversation.
She took another swig of her drink that, from the looks of it, had only one or two good sized gulps left, a drink that I didn’t talk about for the past thirty minutes. It was her second one, something called a “Sinister Spirit,” a fruity drink with amaretto, way too sweet for me. I did find the name ironic though, it seemed I should have been the one drinking it given my intentions that day. But she could savor it all she wanted to, far be it from a gentleman to part a lady from her last drink.
“I just now realized we’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes and I haven’t even asked you how your drinks have been,” I said.
“Great actually, Sinister Spirit is my favorite; it has a lot of fruit so it’s obviously sweet, but it has just enough alcohol to punch from behind the fruit. It’s sort of like you’re prone to the welcoming wall before you realize there’s a hard kick waiting behind it.”
My internal laughter from the irony of it all could have silenced the whole room… if it wasn’t internal of course.
“What exactly goes into it?”
“Well you start with peach vodka, and then you add some orange and pineapple juice. At the end you top it off with amaretto and mix it all up. Pretty simple.”
Yes, it did sound rather easy to make. Especially since I had orange juice, amaretto, and vodka at my apartment. The vodka wasn’t peach flavored, and I was pretty sure I had never bought pineapple juice in my entire life, but she didn’t need to know that.
“That’s all it takes? Call it coincidental, but I have all of those things at my apartment. If you want, we can keep drinking at my place, your third drink can be completely free of charge.”
She didn’t think much on it, her response was quicker than you might have imagined.
“Sounds good to me.”
Yeah, kind of surprising how willing she was to accept my offer, wasn’t it? Makes you wonder why your own dates don’t go this well. Of course, we know something she doesn’t. If she was aware I was planning to kill her then it’s logical to suggest she would have never come on this date in the first place. But she did accept the date, and she did accept the offer for more drinks at my place, and as I flagged the waitress down I knew that not before long I would have another victim to play with.
“The check, sir?” the waitress said. She was a real lanky girl, the kind of woman that you wouldn’t guess could balance five meals on one tray elevated above her shoulders effectively. But she was a good waitress who had provided us good service for the past thirty minutes. I should have asked for her name; doesn’t matter. You’ll come to realize she really isn’t that important to this story.
“Yes, please,” I replied as I handed her my credit card. “Go ahead and throw the amount on that card. And thank you for your exceptional service this afternoon.”
The waitress gave a smile, a nod, and shuffled off to fetch the check. She downed the rest of her drink quickly after that. I followed suit. I was drinking Sam Adams by the way, not that it will have some huge impact on what’s to follow, I just liked the taste.
The waitress returned shortly after, standing at my left with check in hand. I gave a quick glance over the bill; sixteen dollars. Not bad, but I’ve had cheaper dates before.
“Would you like a pen, sir?” the waitress asked.
“No that’s okay,” I replied as I reached in my left pocket, “I’ve got one right he—”
You see, with frequent usage of my credit card, carrying a pen on my person was more of a time saver than a nuisance. But it took a moment to realize that I, in fact, did not have a pen on me, and instead began to pull out the instrument by which I was aiming to kill the woman across from me with. I was quick to push the switch blade back into my pocket, but not before the waitress got a quick glance at what was stored in my pants. I was quick to recover.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It seems I’ve left my pen at home.”
The waitress was thrown off by the knife. I imagine a multitude of thoughts as to why someone would carry a switchblade in a restaurant began to play out through her mind. Alas, the most pressing thought was to give me what I needed before I started to call over management.
“That’s alright,” the waitress replied. “I’ve got one right here.”
She handed me the pen, and I signed off on the bill, and I left a pretty good tip, and she thanked us for coming in, and we gave our gratitude leaving shortly after… and that was that. But it’s funny to think of how quickly everything could have been flipped on its head. What might have happened had she brought up the knife with the two of them? How my plans might have been entirely foiled? How all of what follows may have been completely avoided. But she didn’t question the knife in that moment; she let us go on their way. In leaving the restaurant, I thought about what the waitress was thinking as she returned to the kitchen, that she might get skeptical enough to call the police or maybe just go back to waiting tables. Regardless, I never got a call or a knock at my door.
It wasn’t until they reached the first corner that she spoke up again. “How far away did you say your place was?”
“About eight blocks from here,” I replied. “Down on 49th.”
“Oh, I’m much closer than that. I only live two blocks from here; we can go to my place! I’m sure I’ve got something you would like, drink wise of course. Plus, I’m not really in the mood for walking that far in these heels.”
Perfect, for me at least. While I liked to kill women, I was never too fond of the cleanup that was involved. In fact, that blood spurt that occurred when I took an axe to one of my past date’s forehead still hasn’t quite come out of the carpet. Going to her place would mean I could be as messy as I wanted. And to her credit, I didn’t really want to walk eight blocks either.
“Sounds like a plan,” I replied with a smile. It was genuine, for reasons I just told you.
Rather than cross the street to head towards 49th, we headed left in the direction towards her apartment. At some point halfway, she began to hold hands with me, locking fingers as though we were weeks into a relationship. I didn’t think much of it, I was more occupied with the others around us. The men and women in suits walking along the sidewalk, some with briefcases, others occupied with their phones. How oblivious they all were to what kind of man was walking among them, what intentions I had when I got my date alone. No one was going to stop me, my goal was fast approaching, and judging from the feeling my fingers received in their current position, I decided upon starting with the webbing of her fingers and working my way in.
Eventually, we reached her apartment complex and headed inside. She lived on the third floor in apartment 306, the one that had the door with the fidgety lock that had to be forced closed. The interior was well kept, cozy even. I would change that soon enough, especially that now we were finally alone.
“Why don’t you have a seat while I go see what I have?” she said.
Ok, I would make my move, I had been looking forward to it for the past hour, but having a drink first didn’t sound so bad.
“Alright,” I replied. “I’m cool with whatever you have. I’m not picky.”
Actually, I was rather picky, but I didn’t want her to take any longer than she needed to. She gave a wide smile before turning the corner into the kitchen. When she was out of sight, I pulled out my switch blade and gave it a quick flick, snapping the blade into place. I was mesmerized by the overhead light reflecting off the sheen of the blade.
“Hey,” she called from the kitchen. “I can’t make a decision. Just come have a look and pick something.”
My sinister smirk was enough to make demons slow their pace. Concealing the blade in my fist, I walked towards the kitchen, making sure not to give away my intentions. I wanted the drink, but I wanted her even more.
And I might have gotten it too, but as I turned the corner, the last thing I saw before blacking out was a Louisville Slugger coming straight for my forehead.
************
Oh, did I forget to mention she had a secret too? I mean we all have secrets, things we tend to avoid telling people on first dates. After all, we are trying to make a good impression. It’s not like I could have inferred anything just by looking at her, she looked normal enough. Really, from a first glance you would probably just consider her normal. She just had one secret; well, a rather large secret.
I felt something cold splashing across my face. It was enough to jolt me awake, though I began to contort my face as one would after waking up from a baseball bat to the face. She was the first thing I noticed, then the light directly in front of me, only to realize the light directly ahead of me was actually dangling above. That was when paranoia set in, and when I looked around to notice the dank walls and the rope tied to each of my limbs, I began to realize that I wasn’t the only one keeping a secret. I began to spout words like “bitch” and “slut” towards her, but the ball gag in my mouth made it hard for her to understand any of it.
“What did you say?” she asked. “I didn’t quite catch that. Don’t you remember how you came here; we were holding hands after all. But where exactly… well, let’s just say it’s a good thing you didn’t open the door down the hall from the kitchen.”
I gave more slurs; the ball gag kept making them unrecognizable.
“I must say, our date wasn’t that bad. Admittedly, I’ve had worse. You dress better than most guys, I swear it’s like some men don’t even put effort into their wardrobe. Though I did find this choice rather odd.”
She reached into her back pocket and pulled out my switchblade, giving it a quick flick and moving closer towards my face.
“A switchblade? What could you possibly do with this on a date? Did you not tell me something you should have? I guess we both have our secrets.”
With one swift motion she struck a quick slash down my left cheek, licking the blood that had collected on the blade.
“Hmm, tastes like you need more iron in your diet. Really, you need a lot more than iron. Outside of your outfit and looks, you left a lot to be desired. Drinks at your place, you really used that on a first date? Has that actually worked for you in the past? I will say your choice of getting drinks was good, saved me the trouble of having to explain why I wouldn’t be hungry in the event we ordered food. I am hungry, very hungry actually, just not for anything that restaurant could have provided. But you, you look absolutely delectable.”
In realizing my present situation, I began to shake violently against the ropes that held me to the table. But for all my effort, the ties proved too strong to break.
“Oh now don’t get in such a fuss. It was you who pursued me after all. If anything, you should be glad you found me, most guys don’t get this far on the first date. I like to get to know them a little bit more before I start to find their… sweet spots.”
She began to skim the flat end of the blade across my chest. I was helpless. For the first time in a long time, I was at the mercy of my date. If only the waitress had done something when she noticed the blade. If only the people walking the streets had seen through my guise. If only I had seen through hers.
“Speaking of sweet spots, I hope you realize holding your hand on the way here wasn’t merely an act of compassion. It was more of getting a feel for the meal so to speak, and the webbing between your fingers… smooth as a baby.”
See? I told you this wasn’t going to end well. You probably should have stopped reading a long time ago.
I started to shift and thrash under my constraints, any sort of force to throw me out of the trap I was in. It couldn’t end like this; not that I was scared of death; I just didn’t want to be eaten alive, tied up, and having a ball gag in my mouth. Miraculously, with enough of my spastic movement, the ball gag was able to slide out of my mouth and rest on my left cheek. Good timing too considering the knife was seconds away from plunging into the webbing of my fingers.
“Wait!” I shouted. “Stop!”
And she did, though she seemed to be more concerned with the failed ball gag than the fact that her captor was pleading for his life.
“God damnit,” she said. “I knew I should have gotten a new gag. Ever since that last guy threw up with it in his mouth it hasn’t been the same. Not as tight as it used to be, always slipping off and shifting too much. Add the fact that some of the guys leave teeth marks in the rubber—”
“Alright! Jesus Christ, I get the point! You’re a twisted fucker; you don’t need to walk me through your victim’s commonalities.”
“Like you’re one to talk. You’re telling me you weren’t going to use this switchblade on something other than back alley drug dealers?
“Well… I wouldn’t put it past this city. The crime rate has become rather large in these last few years.”
“My, my, aren’t you the comedian? Tell me, was all that thrashing part of your act, or was that just the fact that you looked like a scared little two year old?”
“Two? I would have guessed I looked at least five, or maybe six.”
She actually snickered at that last one. I know this is all a bit hard to believe, but the two of us aren’t exactly your run-of-the-mill average Joe’s.
“Look,” I continued. “Clearly you’ve been doing this for a while, and clearly you make a much better case at hiding your addiction than myself. Rather than feasting on my organs, maybe we can help each other out.”
“I wouldn’t count yourself out, I would have had no idea you were trying to kill me had it not been for the switchblade I found.”
“You didn’t notice it in the restaurant?”
“You pulled it out in the restaurant?”
“Not intentionally, no. I thought I had a pen on me, but instead I just so happened to pull out the blade. It was my fucking luck that the waitress didn’t say anything about it.”
“A bit of an amateur mistake, don’t you think? How long have you been doing this exactly?”
Yes, we were talking about the fact that we killed people on a frequent basis. In fact, we were talking about it for a good fifteen minutes. Don’t you wish your dates could go over this well? After a few minutes of friendly conversation, I turned the discussion into something more akin to a proposition, an offer that hopefully, given the two of us being, for lack of a better term, unique individuals, she couldn’t refuse. At least, that was my prevailing thought when I noticed the rash forming from the ropes around my wrists.
“So what do you say?” I asked. “Personally, I think we could help each other out here. No one will know, it’ll be our little secret.”
You know, most people would’ve just kept my ass tied up knowing that I was a closeted serial killer. It was highly likely that if she released me, I would just kill her at the first opportunity I got. And she looked as though she was thinking through that same possability, for a moment. But that was all before she set her sights on the ropes around my wrists, the circle of irritated skin that had begun to form, and the webbing between my fingers.
She gave a sinister smile, gripped the blade tightly in her hand, and inched closer to the man lying flat across the table.
************
“So she comes up to me and wonders where the reports are. I didn’t have them of course, I was spending all day surfing the internet pretending that I was getting them done.”
“Come on, they weren’t all that hard to do. More busy work than complicated ones.”
“I know, but I was busy all last night. Preoccupied… with other things.”
“Yeah, I can only imagine.”
The bar was a busy scene at this time of night. At nine p.m. on a Friday, it was exactly the kind of crowd one would expect. She was with one of her coworkers, a single twenty-something named Ally. Ally was a nice enough person, but known as a bit of a work horse around the office. She wanted to get her off the work binge and just have a good time with a nice willing suitor. Sipping on her Sinister Spirit, she noticed a man sitting towards the opposite end of the bar.
“Hey,” she said pointing. “What do you think of him?”
“Well, he’s definitely cute,” Ally replied, “dresses nice too. But I don’t know about him drinking Sam Adams.”
“Go talk to him! I could flag him down if you like; he’s been giving you eyes all night.”
“I doubt he’d want to talk to me.”
“I feel good about this one, Ally. Look, if you go over and talk to him and things don’t work out, I’ll pay for your tab.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious. Give him a chance; I’m sure he’d be willing to give you one.”
Ally looked over towards the man one more time. She did put in plenty of work this week, maybe she did deserve a more physical reward. With a swift motion, Ally left her stool with drink in hand, making her way over to the man on the opposite end of the bar. He noticed her making my way towards him, giving a smile for the possibilities that might come from another successful night.
Left alone, Ally’s friend took another sip of her Sinister Spirit. Looking upon both Ally and the man down the bar she noticed the man giving her a quick wink. And she was quick to give a wink back.
After all, I had provided her a pretty good meal the night before.

Whether by design or subterfuge, many have overlooked WikiLeaks releases of the CIA's HIVE infrastructure. The implications presented in this particular leak, however, are dire to say the least. Finally, long-unsolved Internet mysteries of the infamous "Longhorn" and "The Lamberts" trojans can finally be put to bed, but what else lurks in the abyss of the United States Central Intelligence Agency?
HIVE, created by the CIA IOC's Embedded Development Branch (EBD), is a back-end infrastructure malware with a public-facing HTTPS interface used by CIA implants to "rip" information from target machines and open it up to receive further commands from CIA operators.
HIVE is used across multiple malware implants and CIA operations. The public HTTPS interface utilizes unsuspicious-looking cover domains to hide its presence. This sophisticated masking interface is known as "Switchblade".
This article will cover some of the new developments found throughout the HIVE release, HIVE's components and how it was likely used to besiege anti-virus companies for several years.
This post copied from original on Steemit.
Other parts to this series include:

• Part I: The CIA and NyanCat: The hackers and tools of Vault 7's "Year Zero"
• Part II: "Dark Matter" - All your Macintosh are belong to CIA
• Part III: Marble Framework - The CIA's cloaking device for hackers
• Part IV: Grasshopper and more research challenges!

HIVE

Hive Diagram 1
All packages for HIVE are installed via "yum", a repository of software packages typically used by Red Hat and CentOS distributions of Linux.(1) HIVE's listening and command-and-control components are managed through an Apache Web Server.(2) For added stealth capability all IPs used by the HIVE infrastructure can be redirected through VPS.(3)
The primary targets for HIVE seem to be opposing web servers (ie. websites):
HIVE diagram 2

Switchblade

Switchblade is a component in HIVE which disguises traffic between target domains and CIA listening posts.

Beacons from implanted hosts are assigned a beacon router having a cover domain name. Beacon routers are connected to the Switchblade proxy through VPN tunnels to provide security and privacy. Each beacon router / domain has its own dedicated interface and address on the Switchblade.

Some may recognize this as being similar to attacks a few days ago on the Pizzagate Wiki.
Switchblade diagram

Longhorn

In an incredible turn of events, thanks to WikiLeaks' Vault 7, anti-virus provider Symantec was able to attribute the tool once-known as "Longhorn" to malware developed by the CIA.(4)

Longhorn has been active since at least 2011. It has used a range of back door Trojans in addition to zero-day vulnerabilities to compromise its targets. Longhorn has infiltrated governments and internationally operating organizations, in addition to targets in the financial, telecoms, energy, aerospace, information technology, education, and natural resources sectors. All of the organizations targeted would be of interest to a nation-state attacker.

Longhorn was also known as "The Lamberts" to the personal security providers at Kaspersky.(5) Just days ago they published a report discussing some of the details behind the mystery of "The Lamberts" and their targeting of "high-profile" clients in Europe:

Longhorn, which we internally refer to as “The Lamberts”, first came to the attention of the ITSec community in 2014, when our colleagues from FireEye discovered an attack using a zero day vulnerability (CVE-2014-4148). The attack leveraged malware we called ‘BlackLambert’, which was used to target a high profile organization in Europe.
Since at least 2008, The Lamberts have used multiple sophisticated attack tools against high-profile victims. Their arsenal includes network-driven backdoors, several generations of modular backdoors, harvesting tools, and wipers. Versions for both Windows and OSX are known at this time, with the latest samples created in 2016.

Investigators at Kaspersky were able to pry a list of tools that were packaged with "The Lamberts" that may sound eerily familiar in terms of macabre sense of humor and may perhaps be seen again:

• FUNNELCAKE CARNIVAL
• PIZZA ASSAULT
• SPOCKLOGICAL
• GORDON FLASH
• APE ESCAPE

It appears that time is running out for the CIA and that it's only a matter of days before the cover on their mass surveillance and hacking campaign is entirely blown. It seems certain that "The Lamberts" were likely developed and used by the CIA in addition to "Longhorn" in a cyberterror campaign lasting almost a decade.
When will the madness end? When will our taxes stop being used to such nefarious ends?
Stay tuned...

Whether by design or subterfuge, many have overlooked WikiLeaks releases of the CIA's HIVE infrastructure. The implications presented in this particular leak, however, are dire to say the least. Finally, long-unsolved Internet mysteries of the infamous "Longhorn" and "The Lamberts" trojans can finally be put to bed, but what else lurks in the abyss of the United States Central Intelligence Agency?
HIVE, created by the CIA IOC's Embedded Development Branch (EBD), is a back-end infrastructure malware with a public-facing HTTPS interface used by CIA implants to "rip" information from target machines and open it up to receive further commands from CIA operators.
HIVE is used across multiple malware implants and CIA operations. The public HTTPS interface utilizes unsuspicious-looking cover domains to hide its presence. This sophisticated masking interface is known as "Switchblade".
This article will cover some of the new developments found throughout the HIVE release, HIVE's components and how it was likely used to besiege anti-virus companies for several years.
This post copied from original on Steemit.
Other parts to this series include:

• Part I: The CIA and NyanCat: The hackers and tools of Vault 7's "Year Zero"
• Part II: "Dark Matter" - All your Macintosh are belong to CIA
• Part III: Marble Framework - The CIA's cloaking device for hackers
• Part IV: Grasshopper and more research challenges!

HIVE

Hive Diagram 1
All packages for HIVE are installed via "yum", a repository of software packages typically used by Red Hat and CentOS distributions of Linux.(1) HIVE's listening and command-and-control components are managed through an Apache Web Server.(2) For added stealth capability all IPs used by the HIVE infrastructure can be redirected through VPS.(3)
The primary targets for HIVE seem to be opposing web servers (ie. websites):
HIVE diagram 2

Switchblade

Switchblade is a component in HIVE which disguises traffic between target domains and CIA listening posts.

Beacons from implanted hosts are assigned a beacon router having a cover domain name. Beacon routers are connected to the Switchblade proxy through VPN tunnels to provide security and privacy. Each beacon router / domain has its own dedicated interface and address on the Switchblade.

Some may recognize this as being similar to attacks a few days ago on the Pizzagate Wiki.
Switchblade diagram

Longhorn

In an incredible turn of events, thanks to WikiLeaks' Vault 7, anti-virus provider Symantec was able to attribute the tool once-known as "Longhorn" to malware developed by the CIA.(4)

Longhorn has been active since at least 2011. It has used a range of back door Trojans in addition to zero-day vulnerabilities to compromise its targets. Longhorn has infiltrated governments and internationally operating organizations, in addition to targets in the financial, telecoms, energy, aerospace, information technology, education, and natural resources sectors. All of the organizations targeted would be of interest to a nation-state attacker.

Longhorn was also known as "The Lamberts" to the personal security providers at Kaspersky.(5) Just days ago they published a report discussing some of the details behind the mystery of "The Lamberts" and their targeting of "high-profile" clients in Europe:

Longhorn, which we internally refer to as “The Lamberts”, first came to the attention of the ITSec community in 2014, when our colleagues from FireEye discovered an attack using a zero day vulnerability (CVE-2014-4148). The attack leveraged malware we called ‘BlackLambert’, which was used to target a high profile organization in Europe.
Since at least 2008, The Lamberts have used multiple sophisticated attack tools against high-profile victims. Their arsenal includes network-driven backdoors, several generations of modular backdoors, harvesting tools, and wipers. Versions for both Windows and OSX are known at this time, with the latest samples created in 2016.

Investigators at Kaspersky were able to pry a list of tools that were packaged with "The Lamberts" that may sound eerily familiar in terms of macabre sense of humor and may perhaps be seen again:

• FUNNELCAKE CARNIVAL
• PIZZA ASSAULT
• SPOCKLOGICAL
• GORDON FLASH
• APE ESCAPE

It appears that time is running out for the CIA and that it's only a matter of days before the cover on their mass surveillance and hacking campaign is entirely blown. It seems certain that "The Lamberts" were likely developed and used by the CIA in addition to "Longhorn" in a cyberterror campaign lasting almost a decade.
When will the madness end? When will our taxes stop being used to such nefarious ends?
Stay tuned...

Purpose:

• Every day carry.

Size:

• 3 1/2" blade, partial serration.

Knife type:

• Folder.

Price Range:

• $50-$100.

Type/Style:

• I really like this look/style:

http://www.dhresource.com/260x260s/f2-albu-g4-M01-ED-6B-rBVaEFgAYCyAa78ZAAD7dphupK4063.jpg/tac-force-usa-design-tac919-tac-919-5cr13.jpg
Blade Type:

• Tanto for looks. If you can recommend another type for a specific reason, I'm all ears :)

Blade Steel:

• Unsure.

Anything else:

• Rope cutter on the handle.
  
• "reverse pants clip", ie. the knife clips onto your pants with the blade down, but facing toward the outside of your body. There is a nub on the side of the blade so that as you pull the knife out, that part catches on the side of your pocket and opens the blade automatically. It's a really cool feature.
  
• Nubs on both sides of the handle. On the back side so I can flick it open with my finger on the handle, and on the front side so it can get pulled open thanks to the reverse pants clip.
  
• Glass breaker on handle.
  
• Finally, some sort of spring assist would be perfect. I know switchblades are illegal in my state, but isn't there a compromise between switchblades and normal folders? (WA state) Thoughts on this?
  

Previous recommendations:

• Griptillian (Does not have glass breaker, rope cutter, reverse pants clip, no nubs)
  
• Kershaw emerson (Does not have glass breaker, rope cutter, reverse pants clip, partial serrations, or nub on the back of the handle)
  
• Kershaw cryo (This is pretty damn close, I love the style, but doesn't have glass breaker, rope cutter, partial serrations. Looks like the clip can be moved to the other side though!)
  

I had a cheap knife a few years ago with the reverse pants clip / reverse nub. I sadly lost it, but the reverse pants clip / reverse nub for quick open is a feature I have yet to find anywhere else, and it is awesome, I used it all the time in cramped spaces, all I had to do was pull the knife out of my pocket and it would be open as soon as it was out.
Edit: Here's a diagram of the "reverse" nub and the "regular" nub. I want both on my knife, like my old cheap one:
http://imgur.com/a/We9Lq (knife opens to the left of course)
Thanks!!

So I've been throwing this idea for dual amp bass setup around in my head for a while now and I wanted to know what you guys think.
The barebones idea is that the bass will run into a pedal that will split the signal (Electro-Harmonics Switchblade+). One channel will lead directly to a bass amp. The other will go into an octave up pedal and then into a standard guitar amp.
Handy Diagram: http://imgur.com/EhzqGJp
In theory this will give me guitar and bass sounds that I will be able to switch between and combine using the Switchblade+. (I think the bassist for Royal Blood does something similar)
My problem is I have no idea what octave pedal to use. I've seen a dude on YouTube use a Micro POG (or the even smaller Nano POG). I've seen the same guy use the significantly cheaper Berhinger US600 instead. My question is have you guys any recommendations for an octave up pedal ? Or should I just go for a POG or US600 ?
Handy Diagram No.2: http://imgur.com/aiPTGwY
If you are wondering, this will be for beefing up the rhythm section of a three piece band and maybe for lead in a potential two piece. As far as inspiration goes, I always liked the way Lemmy played his bass like it were a guitar, so why not take it a step further ? This combined with a love for Royal Blood's sound, I decided to try something similar.
Let me know what you guys think, could it work ? Or will I burn my house down as soon as I flick on the power switch ? http://imgur.com/wIWSE7S

CLICK HERE TO OPEN THE PLAYLIST!
SELECTED TRACKS FROM MORE THAN 180 ALBUMS RELEASED IN 2011
No karma for the self posts, just posting an update ;)
I have trouble seeing when the heck I had time to listen through all these albums, but I have, sometimes many, many times. Not all the albums are great, a lot haven't qualified with a single decent song.
11+ hours, 188 tracks.

• Those Dancing Days – Reaching Forward
  
• Fight Like Apes – Indie Monster
  
• We Were Promised Jetpacks – Medicine
  
• Team Me – Dear Sister
  
• Mogwai – George Square Thatcher Death Party
  
• The Chapman Family – Anxiety
  
• Wire – Two Minutes
  
• Frankie & The Heartstrings – It's Obvious
  
• The Go! Team – T.O.R.N.A.D.O
  
• Sleigh Bells – Riot Rhythm
  
• The Strokes – Under Cover Of Darkness
  
• Cloud Nothings – Not Important
  
• Lukestar – Great Bear
  
• Fucked Up – The Recursive Girl
  
• Funeral For A Friend – Old Hymns
  
• Young Legionnaire – Twin Victory
  
• Johnny Foreigner – 200x
  
• Giraffes? Giraffes! – Scorpion Bowls At The Hong Kong
  
• Male Bonding – Pirate Key
  
• Erland – So Tired In The Morning
  
• Jane's Addiction – Underground
  
• WU LYF – Cave Song
  
• Rise Against – Satellite
  
• The Suzukis – Are You Happy With Yourself?
  
• LCD Soundsystem – Daft Punk Is Playing At My House (London Session)
  
• The Naked And Famous – Punching In A Dream
  
• The Airborne Toxic Event – Strange Girl
  
• Cage The Elephant – 2024
  
• Deerhoof – Super Duper Rescue Heads !
  
• Team Me – With My Hands Covering Both of my Eyes I Am Too Scared to Have a Look at You Now
  
• The Streets – Puzzled By People
  
• Bigbang – No One
  
• The Raveonettes – Recharge & Revolt
  
• The Joy Formidable – Austere
  
• Cut Copy – This Is All We've Got
  
• Shonen Knife – Rock'n'Roll Cake
  
• Art Brut – Sexy Sometimes
  
• Frank Turner – Peggy Sang The Blues
  
• Times New Viking – Try Harder
  
• Pete And The Pirates – Cold Black Kitty
  
• Smith Westerns – Weekend
  
• Balkans – Edita V
  
• Warm Brains – Let Down
  
• The Kills – Nail In My Coffin
  
• Asobi Seksu – Trails
  
• Suuns – Gaze
  
• The Horrors – Endless Blue
  
• The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart – Strange
  
• My Morning Jacket – First Light
  
• Death Cab for Cutie – Doors Unlocked And Open
  
• Las Kellies – Perro Rompebolas
  
• White Lies – Holy Ghost
  
• Wild Palms – CareTaker
  
• The Death Set – Can You Seen Straight?
  
• Arctic Monkeys – Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair
  
• The Strokes – Games
  
• Mona – Cloak & Dagger
  
• Wolf Gang – Suego Faults
  
• Title Fight – Where Am I?
  
• Let's Wrestle – If I Keep On Loving You
  
• The Vaccines – Wolf Pack
  
• Gang Of Four – She Said 'You Made A Thing Of Me
  
• Rival Schools – Racing To Red Lights
  
• Lovedrug – Dinosaur (single)
  
• Buffalo Tom – Arise, Watch
  
• Minks – Kusmi
  
• No Joy – Heedless
  
• Alex Winston – Sister Wife
  
• Hilde Marie Kjersem – Let`s Let Go
  
• Lykke Li – I Follow Rivers
  
• Lisa Miskovsky – This Fire
  
• Mirrors – Look At Me
  
• Iron & Wine – Tree By The River
  
• Big Talk – The Next One Living
  
• Toro Y Moi – New Beat
  
• Delicate Steve – Sugar Splash
  
• Fujiya – Yoyo - Radio Edit
  
• Gruff Rhys/Andy Votel – Shark Ridden Waters
  
• White Denim – Burnished
  
• Little Barrie – King Of The Waves
  
• Jim Noir – Kitty Cat
  
• The Death Set – Kittens Inspired By Kittens
  
• The Berg Sans Nipple – Change The Shape
  
• Proviant Audio – High Five
  
• The Voluntary Butler Scheme – Hiring A Car
  
• Little Dragon – Ritual Union
  
• Tune-Yards – Bizness
  
• Battles – Ice Cream (Featuring Matias Aguayo)
  
• Baxter Dury – The Sun
  
• The Leisure Society – Into The Murky Water
  
• Sam Duckworth – The Mannequin
  
• Real Estate – Easy
  
• Razika – Youth
  
• Miles Kane – Happenstance
  
• Wanda Jackson – You Know That I'm No Good
  
• Danger Mouse – Season's Trees (feat. Norah Jones)
  
• Spectrals – You Don't Have To Tell Me
  
• Bright Eyes – Shell Games
  
• Noah And The Whale – Waiting For My Chance To Come
  
• Elbow – jesus is a rochdale girl
  
• Cloud Control – There's Nothing In The Water We Can't Fight
  
• Cold War Kids – Broken Open
  
• Foster The People – I Would Do Anything For You
  
• The Decemberists – This Is Why We Fight
  
• Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds – If I Had A Gun...
  
• Kurt Vile – Peeping Tomboy
  
• The Head And The Heart – Rivers And Roads
  
• Fleet Foxes – The Cascades
  
• Box Codax – No Trains
  
• New York Dolls – You Don't Have To Cry
  
• The Miserable Rich – Pillion
  
• The Dodos – Companions
  
• Florence + The Machine – Shake It Out - Acoustic
  
• Lykke Li – Unrequited Love
  
• PJ Harvey – The Last Living Rose
  
• Mick Harvey – October Boy
  
• James Blake – Give Me My Month
  
• The Middle East – Black Death 1349
  
• Benjamin Francis Leftwich – Pictures
  
• Laura Veirs – All The Pretty Little Horses
  
• Diagrams – Icebreakers
  
• Alessi's Ark – The Fever
  
• Anna Ternheim – Solitary Move
  
• Bon Iver – Hinnom, TX
  
• The Boxer Rebellion – No Harm
  
• Mogwai – Slight Domestic
  
• Bill Wells – Cages
  
• Alessi's Ark – Blanket
  
• Jay Malinowski – There's A Light
  
• Wild Beasts – Smother
  
• Loney Dear – Name
  
• Scarlet Chives – So Sing We
  
• Esben and the Witch – Marine Fields Glow
  
• Moi – Hjerteknuser
  
• Thurston Moore – Illuminine
  
• Gem Club – Sevens
  
• Gang Gang Dance – Thru And Thru
  
• Unknown Mortal Orchestra – Jello and Juggernauts
  
• Crystal Antlers – Summer Solstice
  
• Three Trapped Tigers – Cramm
  
• Zach Hill – House of Hits
  
• Gyratory System – I Must Create A System
  
• Underground Railroad – Russian Doll - Radio Edit
  
• The View – Friend
  
• The Captain & Me – Reach Agadez
  
• Jonathan Wilson – Can We Really Party Today?
  
• Strobelight – More
  
• Bodies Of Water – One Hand Loves the Other
  
• Band of Horses – Compliments - Live P3Sessions, NRK, Norway
  
• Danger Mouse – Two Against One (feat. Jack White)
  
• The National – Exile Vilify (From the Game Portal 2)
  
• The Antlers – French Exit
  
• The Dears – Easy Suffering
  
• Thomas Tantrum – Supermodel
  
• Me And My Army – What I've Been Told
  
• The Unthanks – No One Knows I'm Gone
  
• Kakkmaddafakka – Restless
  
• Andrea Dahle – Play for me
  
• Yuck – Get Away
  
• Okkervil River – Piratess
  
• Glass Rock – Tears Fall
  
• Rumble In Rhodos – Soft Insulated Days
  
• YACHT – Psychic City - Edit
  
• The Wombats – Jump Into The Fog
  
• Beastie Boys – Nonstop Disco Powerpack
  
• Honningbarna – Desperado
  
• Atari Teenage Riot – The Only Slight Glimmer of Hope
  
• Gauntlet Hair – Mop It Up
  
• Lukestar – Flying Canoes
  
• Mount Kimbie – Carbonated
  
• Washed Out – Soft
  
• Gazelle Twin – Men Like Gods
  
• The War On Drugs – The Animator
  
• I Break Horses – Winter Beats
  
• The Field – Burned Out
  
• Digitalism – Antibiotics
  
• The Wolfmen – Mr Sunday
  
• Kasabian – Switchblade Smiles
  
• Motorpsycho – Wishing Well
  
• The Subways – Popdeath
  
• Mastodon – Dry Bone Valley
  
• Pelbo – Captain Of Glory
  
• Sons And Daughters – Giallo
  
• Vivian Girls – Lake House
  
• Biosphere – Monju-2
  
• Trophy Wife – White Horses
  
• M83 – New Map
  
• Björk – Cosmogony
  

THE LINK
Ninjaedit: 217 222 231 subscribers? Wow, just from Reddit? Edit: October?! WTF. I must have been drunk yesterday.