I’ve had this lingering Question for a while and I’ve been putting off ever since. For the most of my life, I had a side part or crew cut but recently I changed how I style my hair and changed to a side fringe/bang which covers my temples. I noticed my forehead got more enlarged and plain. Like my hairline is receding. I just want to ask is it possible because of the hairstyle? It doesn’t make sense though because logically my hair were more strained when I had the side part, I remember sweeping them back but noticed no hair loss. On the other side, with the new hair style I rarely touch my hair but notice hair falling everywhere.

For context I callmy step dad (dad) and i call my actuall dad buche cause i never knew him like a father alight thats it
Well i got alot tbh that i dont even know where to start. Well ig first im already in my 20’s and it all started to go downhill since i was 7 my dad got deported to salvador for hitting my mom and fighting so loud that the cops came cause the neighbors called them. But before that i had told my dad to stop hitting my mom ( me trying to defend my mom the only way i could but i can only remember i was scared for my life ) and he scram at me telling me to stfu cause im not even his kid
In that moment everything went blank i was confused and flabbergasted not knowing what was coming after this
I remember running down the hall to the apartment complex next to us where out aunt lived (this was before the cops got here) we where getting away from him because he told us he had a gun and he was going to kill all of us and them him self cause he wasn’t going to let a slut do whatever she wanter with his kids ( my mom told us years later that in the months before he had started to use cocaine with one of her uncles and he had guns always and thats probably wher he got that bs from)
After he left everything got harder and we would barely see my mom she would work up to 2 jobs in the day and in the night she would work as a bar tender in cantinas witch to say the least its a horrible job But she did wtv to get us ahead Until one day i got courios of who was my real dad and u asked my mom all she told me was that he was really young when they where dating and that he ditched when she was pregnant with me She had never mentioned him before and i had never asked but i was always courious since the day my dad got deported i had messaged him on facebook and we started to text and i asked him to meet up and he agreed
(I went to his house this was when i was around 11 or 12 ) i had went to his house it was a nice big house with 4 rooms a pool and the whole thing while me my mom and my 2 brothers and my 2 uncles and there families where living in a 3 room apartment to say i was jealous is an understatement but i keep my cool especially since i had not even seen him much since he had spent his whole time in his room wich was weird cause he had said over text that he wanted to have a talk bu wtv after all that i was annoyed especially since i had told him i was going to miss a day of work if i went to see him(since it was summer and i would work with my uncle ) but he had told me he would take me to get my hair cut and would give me my days worth of pay and at the end he didn’t even have de audacity to take me to get my hair cut but anyways at the end of the day i never needed him
Well after that my mom got sick we where living with my uncle in a house and since there was problems between his wife and us and then they found out i smoked weed they decided to move and we had till the end of the contract to see what to do i started to work and left school and tbh for a while stuff seemed to go well i was making alot in remodeling for my age and i was going up in the ranks but when job went down and people started being let go i was fucked cause i had no money saved so i lost my job car and was close to losing our apartment but i got job again and kept us aflot tbh there is alot more to this but depends how this go il goninto more details but yhea just glad to chare a lil of what has happend to me

It candidly sucked being surrounded by constant reminders that you’d lost the genetic lottery. Sure, it was easier than some people thought to get around the world without powers; it wasn’t like the government expected everyone to be a speedster or to be able to fly. Hell, a hundred years ago, nobody even had powers. The infrastructure was there. Life went on.
That said, staying cheery about the hand I’d been dealt was difficult. Enhanced perception was useful for a lot of things, from party tricks to always reading the fine print, but next to flight? Next to teleportation?
I’d gotten hung up on movement powers because I’d taken the bus to the bar, and the only superpower buses had was being late.
I was specifically at the bar for the sake of a blind date set up by my best friend; Todd was about two times my size and could throw a car across the street. His powers did nothing to help me with his current obsession with my dating life, but here we were. I supposed it was a fair obsession. I hadn’t been trying.
It honestly made sense that Todd had been keenly aware of romance since he’d met his soul mate. See, a strange thing with powers was that when you were around your soulmate, they were inexplicably stronger. Todd had met Soo-jung when she’d been on vacation in Crescent three years ago. They’d been inseparable since, and he’d been able to throw a car down three blocks instead of across the street.
Or so he claimed. Nobody was eager to volunteer their car for a demonstration, or anything else heavy and expensive, for that matter.
For my part, I hadn’t spent a lot of time guessing what would happen if I met my soulmate. It was a common train of thought for some, but I never found that it stopped at any fun stations. Instead, I indulged Todd’s meddling because he was my friend and bad dates at least made good stories.
“Gimme a sec, I’ll grab us another round,” Todd announced as he pushed out from our table. “Emma said she’s going to be here soon.”
“You bought the last one.”
“Yeah, now you can buy two in a row once Emma gets here and look generous. Think about it, man.”
“Sure,” I answered, but Todd was already walking away from the table and toward the bar.
Soo-jung leaned in. “You know he’s trying, right?”
“I know, maybe a little too much.”
“You don’t hear the half of it.”
“Oh, good.”
“I had to tell him to calm down when it came to buttering you up to Emma,” Soo-jung explained as she took a sip from her drink. “Sometimes I wonder about him.”
“I’m surprised he says anything nice about me.”
“He’d never say it to your face.” She watched Todd at the bar instead of looking at me during our conversation.
“Does that mean you’ll do it for him?”
“He trusts me to keep his secrets.”
“How about I suggest things and read your reaction?” I asked.
Soo-jung frowned in response before she pointedly rolled her eyes. She knew that reading reactions was one of my party tricks. If you couldn’t be powerful, you could at least read a room.
“Okay, fine. What do you know about Emma?”
“Her last name’s Tavish.”
“That’s it?”
“She works with Todd.”
“I knew that. He kept telling me she was a co-worker.”
“Todd thinks she’s cute.”
“He told you that?”
“No, but he has high standards for you.”
“That’s all the detail you have?”
“Todd’s not allowed to talk about work at hom- Hey, honey.”
Todd was back at the table holding all three pints in one arm; he passed one to each of us despite Soo being less than halfway finished with her current drink. Once he’d finished distributing, he turned to Soo-jung and asked her a question in broken Korean.
He’d been trying to learn, and he was still struggling. Not that I knew the language.
“Yes,” Soo-jung responded in English, “we were talking about Emma; no Korean around Toby. It’s rude.”
“I thought you wanted me to practice?”
“You can practice at home.”
“So we were talking about Emma,” Todd jumped back to the previous topic instead of discussing his inconsistent study of Korean. “Awesome woman, perfect for you, man.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“Oh, she sucks too.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“He means powers-wise,” Soo-jung stepped in.
“So you do know something about her,” I pointed out.
“Something? I’ve been telling Soo everything since we got in the car to come here.” Just as Todd finished, he flinched. Soo had kicked him under the table. “But it wasn’t much, really.”
“What do I get to know?”
“I don’t want to taint your expectations.” He pushed his empty glass away, swapping it with the new one. “But can I be serious for a second?”
I considered it. “Sure.”
“She’s like my boss’, boss’ boss. So best behavior.”
“Wait. Seriously?” I leaned in. Todd worked for the CPRU, which meant that she had to be a heavy hitter if she was high ranked in the city’s power regulation department. “She’s—”
“Not quite.” He backpedaled. “We share a building. She’s straight DPR.”
I blinked twice at that. “Way to set me up to fail.”
“You should believe in yourself,” Soo cut in.
“Todd I w—”
“And she’s here.” Todd had turned his attention away from me and toward his phone. “Hope you’re ready to meet your soulmate.”
“Honey, don’t set that expectation.”
The bar’s front door opened, and I was the only one who could hear it over the atmosphere. I glanced over, and there she was.
She was stunning by any definition, but especially mine. Maybe it was a strange way to describe someone, but she looked beautifully meticulous, from brunette hair to olive skin, to her light blue jacket; everything was in place, and everything about her was gorgeous. Assuming that was Emma, I owed Todd big time.
“Okay, that can’t be her, right?” I asked Todd. After a second, without a response, I checked to see if he was waving at her, but he was stock still, a stupid grin plastered over his face. “Todd?”
Holy shit. The DPR had some crazy people on their roster, but this- I waved a hand in front of Todd’s face and snapped my fingers, then caught the sound of a single cautious heel clicking against the floor.
I stood up from the table and looked back at the door. She’d taken one step into the bar but had gotten caught in the same shock I had. “Emma?” I asked.
She snapped her attention to me -god, her eyes were- but she just looked confused.
“Toby,” I explained, “I’m Todd’s friend.” I motioned over to Todd’s still body and took the first steps to say hello. “This is really impressive. I didn’t think this was possible. It’s cool to meet someone wh—”
“I’m not doing this,” she said. “This is impossible. How are yo—”
“Trust me, this isn’t in my…” We stared at each other for a moment. Somehow, time stopped more than it already was.
“Holy shit.” We both said it at once.
“So this isn’t you?” she asked. Her eyes were still meandering around the frozen bar instead of staying in the conversation with me.
“No, it’s not,” I walked along her gaze and ended up against the bar counter, “did Todd tell you what my power was?”
“He just told me you wouldn’t mind having me around,” Emma answered, which somehow just brought up more questions.
“Enhanced perception,” I grabbed a drink off of the bar to see if I could; As soon as I touched it, it seemed to animate back to life. “What do you mean, ‘mind having you around’?”
“I dampen powers,” she explained, a little quieter than anything else she’d said, “make them weaker, hard to use. The technical definition is long and wordy so…” She sighed as she watched me slosh the beer around. “It’s a lot of trouble, really.”
“Probably good for work,” I offered.
“Pretty much the whole reason I have my job, but Callum wouldn’t admit that.” She approached, but there wasn’t an open seat near where I was standing, nor could we ask for someone to move. “Callum is—”
“Callum Rehsman, head of the D.P.R for the past six years,” I stepped in, “sorry, comes with the perception thing.”
“Honestly, I’m just glad I don’t have to explain it,” Emma took to leaning against the bar instead of walking over to a seat. She undid the top button of her shirt, which was probably too high for a date, anyway. “Emma Terish. Ring any bells up there?”
“No.”
“And you’re?”
“Toby Vander,” I put down the beer to offer my hand, and it froze as soon as I let go. We both paid attention to that instead of the potential formal hello.
“So this isn’t you.” Emma reached for the glass and picked it up; once she did, it animated just like it had with me. “And it isn’t me…”
I swallowed nothing. We’d both said holy shit for a reason, but it felt impossible to admit it. Wasn’t there supposed to be a — Well, something? Anything?
Then again, we were stopping time, and what else could you ask for?
“Do you want a drink, Toby?” Emma asked. She vaulted herself over the bar with a frankly shocking amount of grace for someone in a pantsuit.
“Uh, sure.”
“I’d ask what you were drinking, but we might have limited options,” she was considering her new vantage point from behind the counter.
I took the opportunity to grab the drink I’d left behind on the table. “I’ll use the one I had.” I tapped Todd’s hand for posterity, and nothing happened to him. “Any idea what this might—”
“No idea,” she answered without letting me finish, “but my job involves dealing with unknown powers, so…” She tried to use the soda-gun and swore when it didn’t work. “You learn to roll with it until people cooperate.”
“You still think I’m doing this?”
“I know it’s not me, and there aren’t many options here with us,” she said as she ducked behind the bar and came back up with a lemonade cooler, “but I came here for a date, and I plan to have one. Been a long week.”
I returned to the bar, finding a seat now that she was on the other side. “I just need to establish that this isn’t me. I’m not trying to—”
“If it isn’t you and it’s not me stopping time around us, then someone is giving us a very private venue for our first date.”
“Isn’t that nice?”
“It really is.” She took a sip of her drink, then pulled it away before she had time to swallow. “Shit. Do you have cash?”
“I’ll cover you.” She frowned at that; clearly she wasn’t satisfied with someone else paying for everything. “Plus, you’re serving me tonight. So…” That seemed to be enough plausible deniability to satisfy her. “Cheers?”
“Cheers.”
Throughout drink one, we were casting nervous glances around the paused bar; by drink five, we were laughing, just the two of us. Hours dripped by with the free beer… or they didn’t… It was hard to tell.
Emma added her sixth can to her pyramid and composed herself. “Okay, okay, okay. One second.” She took a deep breath. “This has been so much fun, but I told Todd I’d tell him when I got here so” — she needed another second to find her verbal footing — “can you stop this now?”
“Stop what?” I was halfway through a sip.
“This is the coolest power I’ve seen but—”
“It’s not me, I promise,” my insistence ended up sounding more like a drunk debate. The drunk part was accurate.
“So your power really is enhanced perception.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Okay. You’re not lying.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because that’s lame and—” She stopped herself. “Shit, sorry.”
“I am so used to it.”
“You wouldn’t say that drunk if you could stop time is my point,” she almost ducked down to grab another drink but thought better of it. “So, that makes us…”
We’d reached this impasse several times in the last hours. I scanned her. The lines on her face. The size of her irises. She was worried. Apprehensive.
So I said it first.
“We’re soul mates.”
She looked down and to the left, considering instead of answering.
“Why else would one of us display a power we’d never seen before? Unless you’re right and someone was stopping time for everyone but me and—”
“And the woman who’s immune to powers,” she cut in. “Maybe we are soul mates, but turn it off.”
“It’s not—”
“Toby, please.”
“I don’t—” I stopped short and instead tried even though I didn’t know how. My perception was passive. I didn’t get to choose whether I used it. Was there supposed to be a switch somewhere inside my head? Was I—
How long had it been at this point? Six, seven hours? We’d planned to meet pretty late and it would almost be light out by now. She was right. We had to get—
“I don’t know how,” I admitted, “if it’s me.”
Emma opened her mouth to say something, then reconsidered. Her perfectly manicured nails were digging into the vinyl of the bar top.
“Okay. It’s been lovely, but if you getting here started this then,” I said as I stood up, “maybe I just need to leave, and that will turn it off so we can figure out what’s going on.” I took the first steps toward the door.
“That’s a good plan,” she nodded along with what she was saying, like she was convincing herself, “I’ll reach out to you. It was an excellent date.”
“Let Todd know for me,” I added as I reached the door; a second later, I stepped into the chilled early-fall air. The door didn’t shut behind me, so I kept walking until I would have been out of eyesight.
Then I stopped.
Should I have turned around? What were the chances that she was my soul mate? What was I leaving behind if I didn’t see her again? It was a dumb thought, but the idea of walking away started gnawing at me.
But what choice did I have? In front of me, a couple was frozen in the middle of a quiet conversation on the way to the bar. Soul mates only affected one another when they were close by. I took a few more steps and started to sprint.
I was three blocks away when the world stuttered around me. My vision blurred, and the moonlight was shattered by the sun. I stumbled, almost crashing into a woman dressed like she was on her way to brunch.
Shit. I’d left my jacket at the bar, but—
I checked my watch; 8:06 AM.
​
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My apologies in advance if this is long. I was in an abusive relationship/marriage for 23 years. This incident happened when we were still friends. If I had I only known the truth when this had originally happened, I would have been saved from decades of emotional, psychological, verbal, physical, sexual, and physical abuse. (And currently post-separation abuse).
The cast: me, my ex Bub (Beelzebub), my ex-crush B, Bub's gf M, Bub's bf V (It will make sense when you read it.)
TW: Suicide, self-harm, abuse
We met through a mutual friend. We became really close really quickly. He was 17 and I was 19. We would talk for hours about anything and everything. I was raised around domestic abuse, and my family was highly dysfunctional. I suffered severe trauma as a child being raised in this environment with an abusive father and brother. (His namesake). By the time I met Bub, I had been having mental health struggles for many years. To deal with the trauma I still suffered from I would self-harm by cutting frequently. I also had been in a psychiatric hospital twice for suicide attempts. I told Bub about all of this, and he knew that I still did it. He was very supportive and would get really sad when I harmed myself.
Since we were just friends we would talk about our crushes. He had a crush on a girl from high school and I had a crush on one of my ex's B, who was also my high school crush. We only dated for 3 weeks, and we decided we were better as friends then lovers. Though we did have a FWB thing going on when we were both single. He really talked up his crush and I really talked up mine.
Two months into our friendship he got a gf. He told me she was a girl he knew from his home city named M. He claimed her mother would babysit him and his brother. He really talked this girl up. She was into all the same things as him. He said she had beautiful red hair, D breasts, liked the same books, movies and music as him. (Yes, he bragged about these things, as disgusting and corny as it sounds now). I was starting to believe he talked her up to make me jealous, which it honestly did. However, I knew it was petty jealousy and I was very happy for him and expressed that to him.
I don't know whose idea it was for her to start communicating with me, but she started emailing me to get to know his best friend (me). I was totally cool with this and was excited to get to know her. Before I know it, she starts getting really nasty with me for no apparent reason. It really upset me. My natural impulse at the time when I was upset was to cut. It was a maladaptive coping mechanism I had for years, and I did it when I was really upset. I explained this to him, and he said he would talk to her. He showed real concern I was harming myself and he also wanted her to stop.
So, he told me he had talked to her, and she had told him she would stop harassing me for no good reason. I really assumed she was jealous and let her know there was nothing to worry about. We were friends and he had a much longer history with her. She didn't stop. She continued to say the vilest and f'd up things to me, including making crass and insensitive comments about my suicidal ideation and self-harm. Naturally I was really upset and cut myself pretty badly. I still have the scar.
This basically went on until they broke up a month later. He said she was doing heroin, and he was vehemently against drugs. He said that they had a good friend that died of an OD, and he couldn't be with her if she was going to do that. It was over. She never contacted me again.
Not long after that B (my ex-bf) had come back from bootcamp. I spent a good deal of time with him while he was on home for leave for two weeks before he shipped out overseas. We decided in that time that we would no longer be FWB because I was starting to have feelings for Bub. Me and Bub started dating right after that. He ended up telling me that him and M didn't really date, and he had only told me that to make me jealous. AHA! I was correct!
So, I asked to meet her. He was a bit hesitant at first, but he finally agreed. At this point his bf V from his home city was dating her. It was the perfect opportunity to meet her as like a double date. I will say, at that time in my life I could be possessive and jealous. Not proud of it, but I was young and immature. I ended up treating her pretty snidely because of this.
One night we were out with them, and Bub got into a car accident. We ended up having to call his dad for a ride home. When we got to his home, his dad was contemplating letting them sleep there. I whispered in Bub's ear that I was not okay with his ex-gf sleeping at his house. She overheard me tell him this. She pulled me aside and told me they never dated. WHAT? I was furious. Bub made eye contact with me, and by the look on his face, I could tell he knew what she told me. The ride back, to drop them at home in his dad's car, was uncomfortable to say the least.
After he dropped them off, I confronted him. His explanation was I was so pushy to meet her, but he knew how jealous I could be, so he didn't want to actually introduce me to the real M. Ends up V was dating a girl with the same name. I felt so stupid and betrayed. I wanted to end it, but he seemed so remorseful I ended up giving him another chance.
Well, the years go rolling by, and I hear no more about this girl who he was so close with, in the past. Bub was a very charismatic person with a lot of friends. He never stopped speaking to friends permanently and they would come in and out of his life. I found it a little odd that there was no mention of her but didn't think much else of it. I also never really formally met her.
Then Facebook became a thing. He ended up being friends with every person he had ever known. Except her. I would bring it up and he would always have some excuse. We ended up moving in with his brother in 2015. I wasn't really around his brother a lot, so I never got a chance to talk to him at length. I remember at one point I brought her up. I was just so curious at the mystery girl and wanted to see if he was still in touch with her. He told me he didn't know what I was talking about. He said his mother never left them with babysitters and only worked when they were in school.
"What does that mean," I'm thinking. WTF does that mean? I brought it up to Bub and he told me she only babysat a few times so his brother probably forgot. But this didn't sit right with me. He had told me that she would babysit them frequently. He denied ever saying the frequency. What could I do but believe him? It had been almost 15 years by that point. That's a long time to keep a secret like that. Surely, he was telling me the truth. I dropped it for good.
We get married that year. We had a child the next year. We had a stillborn a year after that. All this time until 2022, I started feeling really uneasy about our relationship. I started suspecting that his behavior towards me was abusive.
Sidenote: I didn't include all the abusive behaviors in this post, as it would be a novel if I did. I'm simply recalling the events around the catalyst to my descent into hell.
By the end of 2022 I was broken. I had gotten my first of what would end up being 3 TROs against him. I dismissed the first two. (The second was a dual, as he set up a situation that created the need for me to defend myself. He claimed I wasn't defending myself. That's a story for another day). After the first two, I was still so desperate to salvage my marriage with my eternal hope that he could change. I was just so broken by then I didn't think I deserved any better, and no one else could possibly want a worthless, pitiful broken mess like me.
The summer of 2023, while laying sleepless in bed, the memory of M flashed through my mind. I started remembering details I had long forgotten. Why did I never meet her? Why was she never his friend on Facebook? Why had neither of them reached out to each other? I had met every person he talked about, or he was at least friends with them on Facebook. Why not her? Why did his brother not remember? Why did he say M's mother babysat them all the time? I KNOW he originally said that damn it! Why was her email address, at only 17-years-old, her first and last name? 17-year-olds don't use their names like professionals. They call themselves sparklybutterflies86 for christ's sakes! This was all going through my head.
The next day I confronted Bub. I will paraphrase to the best of my memory:
Me: Was M real?
Bub: I thought this had been settled already.
Me: No. No, it hasn't. You told me your brother just did not remember her and that was the last I spoke of it.
Bub: Deadpanned looking me right in the eye "No. She wasn't real. I thought you knew this by now."
I can't really remember what I said at that point, but it was a lot of "how the fuck could you do that? and other expletives. His excuse was he was an insecure teenager, and he was jealous of B and how much I talked about him. A fucking insecure teenager. Talking up his high school crush didn't make me jealous, so he made up a gf.
He pretended to be a gf, who went on to harass the shit out me. Which caused me to be so distraught that I cut myself. He knew I was harming myself and he kept on doing it. I still bare the fucking scar from that time. He involved a poor innocent girl that I was fucking terrible to. Not to mention the fake story of a friend that Od'd. And his excuse for this deranged, diabolical, INSANE fucking shit was, "I was an insecure teenager." No fucking big deal, right?
23 years. Two kids. One alive and one deceased. 23 years of complete and utter psychological annihilation with this man.
If only I had known.
If you have come this far, thank you so much for reading. I left him for good October of last year, and I have never felt more free.

I feel quite flat today. I feel okay and all, I just feel empty but not sad empty but empty as in I have nothing to give today.
I’m taking a step back in some areas with work. I came to the realisation today that my doing work I shouldn’t have to/is not my responsibility means that the issue of it not being done isn’t being exposed. I’ve communicated several times to my manager that what should be happening isn’t and nothing has changed, so I figure it I step back from it then she’ll see it not being done/she’ll hear about it from others. I like that I’m a team player blah blah blah, I always support and encourage my colleagues and take on more so they can focus on their goals and things and I just need to stop. I can still do it, and I know wi will regardless because I can’t not, but I need to be selfish. My manager herself said I needed to learn to be selfish - ironic isn’t it, given how much it a selfish self absorbed cow I am outside of work. Anyway I’m letting it pile up now. I’ve communicated plenty, I’ve offered solutions, I’ve even set up a bloody chat for the team taking over if they have any questions and I can help them. If they opt to not do their work then it shouldn’t fall on me, so therefore I’m stepping back.
I feel like I don’t have any real control over myself lately. Like I tell myself to do something and I don’t do it and I can’t seem to make myself do anything. I have zero discipline. I need to learn to have much stronger discipline. I’ve also had the worst cravings again lately, I guess I’ve shown some discipline in that but I’m still not eating properly - I need to be cooking proper meals, not instant rice and veggies and stuff. I feel like utter crap when I don’t eat properly, and that doesn’t mean eating junk food stuff it also means not eating an adequate amount of protein and things. I need to get myself together. I just haven’t had the drive to do anything lately.
I’ve been using my K18 mask each wash, as it says I should, I don’t condition and then I put it into my damp hair and maybe my hair feels healthier I guess but I hate how it air-dries. It’s so blahhh. Normally when I air dry it’s fairly silky in the morning, not silky silky as it would be when I properly style it or use a mask etc but it’s nice enough. Whereas now it’s all… idk. It feels a lot thicker lately, idk why as it won’t be, but I can’t fit it all into a claw clip anymore like I could before. I wonder if it’s more to do with my layers growing out? It’s also longer. So probably those two things. It’s still going through a shedding phase, the post stress kind of shedding I get. I hate it. I hate that my inability to control my emotions means I get such physical side effects. Anyway. I’m welllll overdue for a haircut, but I feel like I want to get it all to one length and then go, because I feel like she keeps f’ing up my length. So idk. It’s so ugly at the moment though, it’s due for a colour and desperately needs some shaping done. Maybe this time I will go to a new salon and then I always have my usual one to fall back on? Idk. I won’t get a cut for at least another month I don’t think. Maybe. I need it but I want it all one length so it can be properly restyled. So idk, I guess I’ll get bigger clips. My face framies need some TLC big time though. Oh well. What’s some bad hair when I’m so ugly anyway. Plus getting my hair done means I have to stare at myself in a mirror for 2 hours, I can barely even look at myself when putting makeup/skincare on.
I did a workout today and it was so bad. I truly have nothing to give today. I ended up just doing a super basic pilates routine which tbh was more stretching than anything. It felt nice though, so I’m glad I did it. So in short I did not do a workout today, and I shouldn’t have said that.
I wonder what it will be like to not hate myself? It feels like an unreachable goal but it’s my goal nonetheless. But I wonder what it’s like? It sounds so freeing. The way Andy says he doesn’t really think negatively about himself, that he doesn’t relentlessly beat himself up over things and idk, he said more but anyway. I know that won’t always be the case and he’ll sometimes feel completely different and negatively and things, which I detest the idea of, but on the whole he’s content with himself. The idea of that feels so foreign. I don’t know where it came from, I mean I do - a lifetime of collecting insecurities, fears and all of that. But I realise I haven’t had a life where I’ve been constantly rejected or had any issue getting attention from men (who were clearly daft and blind), I have parents who in theory seem to love me (out of obligation), I don’t have a difficult life and I have plenty of opportunities thrown at me etc etc. I I guess I have been treated badly by people close to me, people I’ve forced myself to trust and be open with, and I have always been sensitive and idk. So I guess I took on those situations and words and they stuck and then proceeded to fester. But I hated myself before then too… though I hated myself less before then I suppose. But I didn’t feel worthy of anything much back then and I didn’t like myself at all. I can’t actually remember a time where I felt accepting of myself, I don’t mean a time where I liked myself, I mean just a time where I felt content enough. I remember being in primary school and wishing on dandelions that I could be anyone else as long as I wasn’t me. I remember it, I think it was in my grandmas garden and idk. Anyway. I still make wishes on dandelions even now, though a lot more privately. But so I can’t remember a time I felt okay about myself, and over the years it’s just slowly but surely become a twisted, monstrous hatred for myself, where I fantasise about ripping my skin off and hacking away at myself and tell myself horrid nasty things throughout the day, every day. It sometimes feels lightened thanks to therapy, the hatred hasn’t really lessened but my ability to recognise the negativity has increased and so I don’t lean into the negativity as easily now, but I still do on a daily basis. I just don’t even know what it would be like to accept myself. I hope I get to that point some day, I really hope it’s soon. Even if it just means I’m in a state of delusion.
I wish downstairs wouldn’t slam their goddamn door all the time, it’s like they’re incapable of closing it normally. And then they thunder around so heavy footed - like how is it that the people DOWNSTAIRS makes UPSTAIRS shake with footsteps and things. Anyway it’s fine and not really an issue, but it annoys me sometimes. Like why do they walk so heavy!!! WALK LIGHTER.
I don’t want to journal anymore. Im going to read. He’s still asleep so I’m not really sure if we’ll spend time together or not tonight. Okay anyway bye

DC Next Proudly Presents:

THE NEW TITANS

In Shadow of Kestrel
Issue Nine: War Dove
Written by AdamantAce, GemlinTheGremlin & PatrollinTheMojave
Edited by Deadislandman1 and Voidkiller826
 
Next Issue > Coming Next Month
 
 
“Raven!”
Slade’s gruff voice pierced through the deafening, wave-like roars in Raven’s head, but the rage was too much to bear. Her hands sizzled as hellfire danced in her palms, her body readying for another attack. She locked eyes with a reptilian soldier, dismounting his simian steed and charging on foot, but as she lunged forwards to strike him, she watched a man fly into her path. Slade Wilson caught the young Titan’s hand and pushed, throwing Raven backwards.
“Come on, kid, snap out of it!” But as Slade’s words fell on deaf ears, he felt the familiar sting of a fist to his jaw, a crack echoing in his ears. He recoiled from the attack but powered through his injury and stood his ground. Sinking his heels into the ground, he locked eyes with the girl before him. Her face seemed contorted and uncanny, as if all of the rage she was feeling was pouring out of her. She groaned angrily as she thrusted her head downwards, her forehead making contact with Slade’s teeth, before pulling her head back up again in preparation for another attack.
Before she could make one, however, one of the lizardmen had almost reached the warring duo’s sides, and as he lunged forward with his long spear, he made contact with Raven’s side. A small rip formed in the side of Raven’s outfit, which seemed to only anger her further. However, it did seem to distract her enough; Mar’i fired off a single Starbolt which struck only the ground - a warning shot.
“Raven! Please!” the half-Tamaranean cried out. But the Raven she knew was buried under unfathomable amounts of fury; she ignored her teammate’s call and instead flew forwards and swung out at the reptiloid. The strike glowed with red flame, sending the creature skidding across the floor, barely conscious. Slade spotted a flash of something else on her face, as if she was finally able to fight back against the endless rage - pain, perhaps, or anguish. But in an instant, it was gone.
That flicker of something other than white-hot anger was enough for Slade.
He clutched his side as his still open wound began to ache, the bandages feeling wet with fresh blood. His jaw felt crooked, and as he gritted his teeth, it felt as though they sat differently atop each other. And yet, he clutched his staff tightly in one hand, and with the other he beckoned to Raven.
“Kid, you’re fighting it, I know you are!” Slade felt his mouth filling with blood rather than saliva.
Within a moment, Raven’s attention was locked on the white-haired man once again. She fired bolt after bolt of black and red flame, but Slade was still dextrous despite his pain. He dodged and dived, weaving through the fire, until he finally managed to make contact with his opponent. He drove his staff into her chest and pushed his weight against the weapon, forcing her backwards. She rose into the air, a black mist pouring from her arms and over her face, a large ghostly corvid taking her place. He felt the deathly cold shadow of the bird’s wing fall over him, his feet leaving the ground as she scooped him into the air.
He looked down at the ground far beneath him. A fall from this height would kill anyone, he thought, let alone someone beaten half to death.
Then, as a verdant bolt of energy struck it in the side, Raven’s Soul Self shrieked and the shadows retreated inwards. Slade felt himself falling through the air for a second, then two, before he felt his back collide with something soft and cushioned. As he looked up, he met the gaze of Conner, who soared to the ground in an instant, placing the snow-haired man on the ground and giving a swift nod.
Raven let out a pained, frustrated yell as she returned to the ground, aided by a grappling line expertly positioned by Tim, and in response, Conner jetted off towards the sound of her cries. Slade’s feet faltered beneath him, and he stumbled to keep his balance. His breathing was laboured and his vision was becoming fuzzy. It felt as though, he realised, all the blood loss and violence he had suffered over the past few hours were finally catching up to him. Was this what dying felt like?
“Slade!” shouted a voice, followed by the dulled drumming of hurried footsteps. Slade pulled his hand across his face to wipe away the mental haze and drops of blood. It was Don, sprinting towards him. When Slade felt Don clasp him by shoulders, he realized just how slowed he was by his injuries. “Plan?” Slade coughed out.
“You’ve seen what she can do. I only see one way out of these without one of the kids getting hurt. I’d do it myself, but I’m out of practice and this is too important to leave to chance.” Don looked around anxiously, his face betraying that he had a lot on his mind. “I’m giving you the powers of a god.” Slade opened his mouth to ask a question, a million came to mind. He glanced across the battlefield. Through a blurry film, he saw Raven’s Soul Self bat Conner away with its wing. He careened into the trunk of a thick tree, uprooting it with a deep crunch. “Are you sure?,” Slade asked, breathless.
“I’m not losing another Titan.” Don squeezed his eyes shut. His grip on Slade tightened as pale, almost blinding light enveloped them. It felt warm. No, better than that: it felt peaceful. With his enhanced senses, Slade could hear his erratic heartbeat slow. Fleeting visions bubbled up in his mind, opening up his awareness beyond the wildest dreams of Project Veritas. He felt rivers of magical energy flowing through the air and earth. Each of them spiralled towards a depression. Towards Raven, he knew instinctively. Iridescent blue light spread outward from his shoulders. It washed over his body armor, bleaching the jet black panels until his entire body shone with radiance. The pain from wounds old and new faded, replaced by serenity - and power. Don opened his eyes again and sighed gently; a concoction and joy, relief, and quiet mourning.
“There,” Don remarked. Slade felt lighter, less angry, less burdened. He looked down at the iridescent light enveloping his body. Magical energy buzzed against the surface of his skin. “The powers of the Dove - officially yours.”
Slade sucked in a nervous breath. “Don…” Even rejuvenated, he was still lost for words.
“They’re yours now,” Don smiled weakly. “Now go earn them. There’s a Titan in dire need of our help.”
Conner floated out of the dense jungle, rubbing his forehead. “Is Slade glowing or do I have a concussion?”
Slade looked over at Raven. She seemed less erratic, her movements driven by her brain rather than her gut. Tim’s staff batted fiercely against her, each strike buffeting her back more and more, but it was clear to Slade that Raven was not any weaker physically - her mind, however, was another story.
Slade began marching towards her, the ache in his side dulled. “Raven. You’re strong. Fight this rage inside of you.” Raven glared at him, a spark of something in her eyes, as she swooped in towards him at top speed. As she neared him, however, Slade readied his staff, stretching it out in front of him. As the tip of the weapon struck Raven, a beam of white energy coursed through her, as if she had been struck by lightning, and her body was flung backwards across the dirt.
Slade danced a hand over his rifle, but something felt different. He pulled it into his hands and inspected it swiftly; nothing seemed out of order. Raven rose slowly from her supine position, snarling softly to herself. Her movements had slowed, the expression on her face becoming closer to horror than rage. She was doing it.
“You’re nearly there, kid,” Slade soothed, his words suddenly like butter. He watched Raven’s shoulders start to relax. “That’s it. Just fight this, Raven. You’re almost there.”
Despite her tremendous progress, Raven’s blistering fury won out once more, and she charged a large bolt of hellfire in her hands. Slade fiddled with his rifle and crossed his fingers. There was a standstill between the two. Slade analysed his rifle again; there was something different about the barrel, as if it had been swapped out for another similar model. The stock felt lighter, too, as if the weight had been–
Raven roared at him, swiping wildly with glowing fists, and in an instant Slade instinctively pulled the trigger.
What fired from the gun was not a silvery bullet, but a familiar glowing bolt of white light, cloud-like in appearance. As it struck Raven, she sucked in a deep breath, the energy engulfing her. Her face softened and her posture relaxed. Then she swung out for the man’s weakened side, his bandages poking through the aura of light. And yet, as he stayed steadfast, not even attempting to dodge the attack. Sparks flew from the point of contact. Slade just readied another shot and fired.
Her body swayed with the blow. Slade closed the gap between them and focused on the new warmth he felt, concentrating it into his staff as best he could. Then, as he held it out in front of him at arm’s length, he swiped at Raven and struck her in the side of the shoulder. Each blow seemed to be more effective than the last, but as Raven’s movements continued to slow, Slade held fire.
“You’re doing it, Raven,” Slade encouraged. He watched as the other Titans surrounded Raven, each of them ready for any further attacks. Everyone watched with bated breath as their teammate and friend thrashed and recoiled from the hit. Her breathing was rapid, although it felt closer to panic than unabashed fury. She clasped her hands over her head, groaning. Then, suddenly, she stopped.
Her face had softened completely, her jaw slack, and tears filled her vision. She looked up at Slade with a comfort in her eyes. The aura emanating from him was pervasive and contagious, and although she had felt lost in a sea of impossibly vast emotions, its warmth and comfort cut through. The anger was still there somewhat, the last remaining dregs still working its way out of her system, but the comfort, the peace that Slade was providing was the anchor for her to stabilise herself. She had only ever seen this kind of power when Don…
Raven’s eyes widened as she realised what that meant. She collapsed to her knees, suddenly feeling the bone-deep fatigue her rage had suppressed. Her teammates rushed in around her. Mar’i dropped to a knee by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s OK. You’re safe. Everyone’s OK.”
“Don I’m—” She wiped away a stream of tears, stumbling her way out of the emotional vortex she’d been sucked into. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’ve lost control before, but never like this.”
Don looked older. Creases ran across his forehead and around his eyes. His smile hadn’t changed. “Raven, my brother and I got those powers when I was a kid. We didn’t ask for them. We weren’t ready for them. We didn’t know how to use them, let alone control them.” He laughed dryly, recalling Hank. “I don’t regret anything. Giving my powers to Slade is the best thing I’ve done with them in years. I know Hank would feel the same way.”
In the moment of silence that followed, Raven rose to her feet and pulled her cloak tightly around herself. She was still shaking. Tim’s eyes drifted from her to Slade. “Something’s gnawing at me. Kestrel’s powers are weakened in Skartaris. Don’s…” He coughed, “Slade’s powers are amplified. If this place is what affected you—”
Mar’i’s face flashed with recognition, “—your powers must be tied to the Lords of Order and Chaos!”
Tim furrowed his brow. “Maybe.” He hardly had time to consider further when a thundering crack tore open the sky. Two bolts of swirling energy - one red and one blue - met above them, forming a swirling portal at their vertex. The Titans readied their weapons, expecting the worst.
“It’s them.” Slade murmured, still put off by his uncanny awareness. Terataya and T’Charr descended from the sky, one wreathed in mist, the other, magma. The two elementals stopped a few feet above the ground, hovering.
Terataya was the first to speak. Even at a whisper, her voice reverberated through the air. “I don’t usually care for surprises, Don, but this was a pleasant one.” A thin smile appeared on her face.
“Slade Wilson.” Terataya’s neck turned at an unnatural angle to face him. “You wield the powers of Order with great skill. Who understands the dangers of unchecked War better than a soldier. Become my champion. Protect the balance.”
Slade took a step back, then glanced at Don.
“She’s right.” Don said, with only a hint of hesitation. “It took me years to use the powers like you used them today. You’re a natural.”
Slade looked at his hands, still gently pulsing with pale blue light. “Thanks.” He allowed himself a weak smile. “But no thanks.”
“What.” T’Charr’s voice boomed.
“It doesn’t take Zatanna to realize an old soldier like me makes a piss-poor Avatar of Peace. I fight for a living, and I’m not deluded enough to think that makes me good at anything but fighting. If you want someone who understands the need for balance, Don just sacrificed everything special about him for it.”
Don raised an eyebrow. “None taken.”
“His actions today were noble, but they do not make up for years spent squandering the gift.”
“Squandering? The Titans wouldn’t exist today if he hadn’t pulled them together. Everything they’ve done. Everything they’ve achieved for your balance wouldn’t have happened without him, including stopping that monster you made.”
“Watch your tone, mortal.” T’Charr threatened.
“There may be a vein of truth to his words, lover.” Terataya said. “But *if we were to restore Don Hall’s power, we would need assurances. His indecision led down this path.”*
Rocks ground against each other as T’Charr landed beside Don. “You would have weeks, not years, to select a counterpart and return to your duties.”
Don’s response was instantaneous. “I’ve made a decision.”
“You’ve decided if you’ll take up the mantle of Dove again?”
Don nodded. “And who should be the new Hawk.”
Terataya giggled. “Full of surprises today. T’Charr?”
“We should discuss this.” He said. “In private.”
The three of them vanished, leaving the Titans and Slade alone on a battlefield riddled with bits of dino meat and ape fur.
 
○○ Ⓣ ○○
 
“You don’t think they’re gonna come back in like, 200 years, right?” Conner asked. He sat beside the depowered Slade Wilson, who was downing aspirin to make up for the sudden deficit in peace energy.
“I don’t know.” Tim said. “But we should give them more than fifteen minutes.”
As if on cue, the skies opened again. Again, the chromatic energy lit the sky and again a portal opened its swirling maw. This time, however, it wasn’t two elemental Lords to descend. Raven squinted to make the figures out.
“Oh my god.” Conner said, having a far easier time with his super-vision.
“What? Who is it?” Tim asked.
“Donna!” Mar’i shouted. She shot off the ground towards her. Her black combat armor was replaced with a crimson and white bodysuit studded with stars that seemed to twinkle as the light shifted around her. The sword at her side was gone too, replaced with a coiled loop of rope suffused with the same brilliant energy. The two collided into an embrace, spinning through the air as they held each other tightly.
Don was the first to land, restored with the powers of Dove. He looked stronger than ever, and maybe more importantly, happier. Even Tim’s typical thoughtful brooding has been pierced by an unimpeachable joy.
“I don’t understand,.” Raven said. “S-She’s alive. How is this possible?”
“I knew there was only one person who could be trusted with the powers of War, with Hank’s abilities.” He scratched the back of his neck, a bit guilty. “And she’d been staring me in the face for years. It took some doing, but eventually T’Charr and Terataya saw that too.”
Donna landed beside him, Mar’i only a step behind. By now Conner had stepped forward. He tried not to choke over his words. “I’m sorry. If I’d—”
Donna didn’t let him get the words out before pulling him into a grapple-turned-hug that quickly grew as the rest of the team piled in. Slade flicked another aspirin into his mouth.
“Danyah!” A voice called out from over the ridge. It was Travis, mounted atop a fanged reptilian creature in the vague shape of a horse and flanked on either side by his gold-armored honor guard. He broke into a gallop, stopping just short of the Titans. “When I saw the skies, I feared the worst. Is it really you? Has sorcery brought you back to us?”
“It’s me, Travis. A Lord of Chaos brought me back.”
“Not to interrupt,.” Slade said, still nursing his wounds. “But did either of you ask them to bring us back to Chicago?”
“I…” Don grimaced. “Donna, how do we get home?”
“How did you get here? Surely you could return the way you came.” Travis said.
“No, we can’t.” Tim said, pressing a few buttons on his wrist’s holographic display. “Whatever magic pervades Skartaris is also causing some extreme time dilation. I can’t guarantee we’d return to the 21st century, or even to Earth.”
“I spent a decade in Skartaris and returned to Earth nearly two centuries later. It’s the influence of Chaos. We’d need a Skartaran mage of overwhelming power to stabilize our return.” She spat the word mage with disgust. Travis’s expression seemed to confirm the reputation of Skartaran spellcasters.
Before their anxiety could spiral, the sky above began to churn. Moments later, the ground shook as a violent bolt of lightning cleaved the air, striking with such ferocity that all but Conner and Donna were flung backward. Mar'i skidded across the damp undergrowth, her senses overwhelmed by the acrid scent of ozone. Her mind was racing; their victory was hard fought, and she doubted they had much left in the tank for another confrontation. She dug her hands into the ground and pushed herself up as she choked from the smell. The Warlord Morgan and his military guards snapped to attention, forming a protective ring around the crater that now marred the earth.
From the smoking pit, a figure rose, unfolding from a crouch like something out of Terminator. Adorned in a red and white jumpsuit that accentuated his lithe build, the young man's appearance was marked by a red cowl and goggles, with sandy brown hair rebelliously spilling out.
Conner squinted through the dissipating smoke, murmuring under his breath, “A speedster?” The Flashes had had a variety of different sidekicks and other allies over the years, but none of them recognised this one
With a nonchalant flair that seemed at odds with the charged atmosphere, the newcomer greeted them. “Hey, everyone chillax. I'm here to get you guys back home.”
Donna, ever the leader, stepped forward and spoke with a commanding curiosity, now emboldened with the war aura of Hawk. “And who are you exactly? Why should we trust you with such a claim?”
Flashing a cheeky grin, he tilted his head and responded, “Well, I’m a speedster for one. Name’s Impulse. If I run fast enough, then I can… well, I guess bend time.”
Behind Donna, the group exchanged sceptical glances. Raven's face remained shadowed by recovery, Mar'i and Conner braced for action, and Tim discretely checked his gadgets, no doubt for something that he could use on a speedster should the need arise.
“Yeah, we figured that much,” Don cut through the tension, his voice calm yet insistent. “Who sent you?”
Impulse chuckled, his demeanour remaining unfazed by their scrutiny. “Look, the details aren't the fun part. Trust me, I can get us back.”
As a silence thick with doubt and scepticism settled over the group, Impulse seemed to realise his casual assurances weren't sufficient. With a theatrical sigh, he reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face familiar to both Mar'i and Raven.
“Brody!?” Mar'i exclaimed, her surprise echoing through the clearing as she stared at the boy who had once hobbled through their college classes with his leg in a cast.
The young man’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of pride. “Actually, it’s Bart.”
 
○○ Ⓣ ○○
 
When Slade emerged from the shower, his skin was glistening with moisture, the water tracing the contours of his scars. He wrapped a stark white towel around his waist, and crossed the plush carpet to sit on the edge of the hotel room bed. He released a slow, deep breath; it was a good job the speedster kid arrived when he did. The notion of being stranded in an alien land or, worse, a different time had gnawed at him with a ferocity that was hard to admit. Without Bart’s intervention, every one of Slade’s meticulously crafted plans would have been utterly dashed.
Facing him, a wall-mounted mirror caught his rugged reflection. Drawn to his own image, Slade studied the scars that mapped his trials, the slick white hair that crowned his head, and the deep lines etched into his face. A familiar discomfort nagged at him, focusing his attention on his right eye. Unable to alleviate the irritation through the skin, Slade exhaled heavily and carefully removed the eye altogether. The movement, fluid and practised, spoke of years of adaptation.
He placed the prosthetic gently on the bed beside him and as he massaged the socket, a decades-old habit, his mind wandered. He wasn't accustomed to keeping the prosthetic in for extended periods. Showering with it had been an uncomfortable experiment in necessity - he didn't like it, but understood the importance of maintaining the facade. The Slade he would have people believe he was would have never lost an eye, because that Slade had led a life far from by the darker paths Slade had truthfully trodden.
His thoughts wandered to his brief time wielding the potent powers of Dove, and Slade felt a twinge of regret at their loss. The clarity and strength those powers had provided were intoxicating, yet he recognised that he had a more important goal, one he couldn’t compromise. His current role demanded not the accumulation of power but the perfection of his deceit, ensuring that all believed he was not the Slade Wilson they knew, but a Reawakened, more innocent doppelganger.
Now, with the glass eye resting beside him, Slade stared at his unmasked visage. Maintaining the myth of the noble Slade was critical. The ruthless mercenary, the World’s Deadliest Killer - those identities had to remain buried. The Titans had believed him enough to entrust him with divine powers, their faith a testament to his performance, but the game was far from over; in fact, it was entering its most critical phase.
 
 
Next: Return to normality in The New Titans #10
 

Chapter 1: the event
It was the fall of my intern year as I bean my off service trauma rotation. This month was ubiquitously notorious for being the most labor intrusive and least productive rotaion of our emergency medicine program. Knowing this I entered with the intention of simply surviving the month.
Another intern and I let’s call them A for sake of ambiguity, we’re the first emergency medicine residents to roste on the trauma services that year. A shaky start would be an understatement. In the words of chance the raper “like my grama with the Parkinson’s playing operation.” Would better describe it. Medically we did well. We were very competent and completed our work daily, but communication and coordination was non existent. Our Cheifs had informed us that Tuesday was our day of and the Trauma cheif residents had minimum communication with us, or our Cheifs as it seams when A and I did not report on Tuesday they sternly made their dissatisfaction known.
I have struggled with insomnia sense the age of 10. Had 2 sleep studies by this point in my life and been prescribed nearly every sleeping aid on the market. The 80-94 hr work weeks of our trauma rotaion only worsened my insomnia. My lack of sleep likely contributed to a less than prime adaptive immune system and 2 days out of my trauma rotaion I contracted strep like symptoms with associated nausea, requiring me to call for a sick day the next day. No the first day that I felt too ill to work. I was not fully aware of the reporting process. I reported to my Chiefs, but I did not believe I could come to work tomorrow with amble time and notice, however I was somewhat delayed in letting their Cheifs know, because the surgical chiefs rotated every few days and I did not know who my was going to be the next day. The second day which I had to call out sick I was able to locate the cheif for the next day and reprot according to our university’s protocol, which requires that if a resident feels they are not fit for work they must not come in and the university must have staff coverage without any fear or implementation of punitive actions.
I had finally survived to the last week of my trauma rotaion and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. What I could not see was the pile of stress, shitty diet, lack of mental well ness and sleep deprivation which I was pushing down to reach the light. By this time I had seen a psychiatrist regularly for sleep medication. I had mentioned to him that I had been experiencing more stressed lately and feel that I might be depressed. he reassured me that it was likely only due to my circumstances, given the difficulty of the trauma rotation and wish to reassess once the rotation was over. Looking back I had to fill the habit of drinking more than I usually do. My only on nights before I have days off became 1-2 beers every other night. All of this repressed unhealthy shit finally pushed bad on September 23rd. That night I was at work even later than usual, I stayed up later than usual and couldn’t seem to fall asleep. With the stress of only having minimal sleep and knowing I only had 2 more days of trauma left, I took an extra dose of my sleeping medication.
I opened my eyes to the fighting sight of sun beaming in my window and I instantly knew I was late. (Sense I hadn’t seen the sun in a month) . Due to my need for scrupulous sleep hygiene I have been sleeping with my phone of and away for me. I rushed to grab it and watched as the little Apple logo seamed to glow on the screen for an eternity. Then in conjunction with its fading I saw 3 missed calls from my director, a text from college A and 2 missed calls from the surgical director. Still, I was able to calm myself, knowing that resident A had been late to this rotation by a few hours 2 other days and nothing came of it. I called my director back and he asked me to report to his office where I was greeted by my director, my coordinator and another emergency medicine facility.
With the only explanation of: “we just want you to get better”, I was handed a letter, to my relief it did not entail my termination, but a declaration of administrative leave and a requirement to undergo an evaluation at a well known university in Florida.
Lake any other savvy millennial, I did my research. By research I mean numerous google searches and screeches thru the depts of redit. To my dismay I discovered that in order for a residency program to fire you, they must first initiate an administrative suspension. I would soon find out however, being terminated would have been a delightful outcome compared to what ensued.
I spend the next few weeks in the wallos of regret and depression. I indulged in higher qualities of alchohol then I ever have before. I all but ceased communing with peers, and abruptly stoped any physical activity I had once enjoyed. Frightened as I was I was ensured, it will be ok “we just want you to get better”
Chapter 2 The evaluation : guilty until proven innocent I did exactly as instructed and scheduled an evaluation, I supposed that this was either a mental evaluation to assess if I’m fit for work with plans of termination or it actually was an evaluation to better treat my insomnia. To this day I regret my ignorance, and wish I had researched the process more. The Hindi / sand-skrt idea of Hamsa 🪬 is that in order to do any good you must have full knowledge or else good intentions can result in harm. I truely believe my director had good intentions, however but him and I did not have full knowledge of the nature of this evaluation.
Looking back see how easily I could have avoided my troubles by asserting legal aid at this point or even by researching this evaluation process more in depth. If one searches impaired practitioner program which I now know this evaluator works for, the search entire will populate 5 or 6 layferms along side their home website and there is a valid reason for this.
If one every finds themself in this process I employ you to bring a DSM to your evaluation or at least be familiar with the most common use disorders in the DSM-5, because your evaluation will turn into a dance of questions where the evaluator attempts to trap you in a round about way to stating something that may qualify for one of the diagnosis. I have provided an image from the DSM-5 below outlining AUD, which the evaluator concluded that I had the most severe from:
Image
Example***** Here are 10 examples of how he fraudulently assessed me taken directly from his assessment note.

1. Evaluator: Have you ever stoped drinking in the last year.

Me: yes I stoped every week day, I was only drinking on the weekends, until two weeks ago.
-Evaluator uses stoping and starting every week to qualify for 2 or more unsuccessful attempts to stop in the last year “There is a persistent desire or unsuccessful efforts to cut down or control alcohol use.”

1. Evaluator Have you ever had withdrawal symptoms

Me no
Evaluator Well Have you ever had a hangover? You know that’s a from of acute withdrawal
Me: yes in college, I had a few but that was years ago and I’m pretty sure the pathophysiology is different.
Evaluator uses this to count for withdrawal symptoms even tho is was more than a year ago

1. Evaluator: Have you even taken your sleeping medication on a day or night which you drank? Me: Yes, I took my prescriptions are prescribed but I never drank close to bed

Evaluator: qualified this as dangerous behavior with alcohol (where the DSM gives examples such as unprotected sex and drunk driving). The sleeping medication I was on is not a benzodiazepine therefore it is not deadly with alcohol. I personally have seen many patients in the ED who have taken their entire bottle of the medication and drank copious amounts, we just monitor them over night and rehydrate them

1. Evaluator Has anyone told you you drink to much or been worried about you Me: No I drink much less than my friends

Evaluator what about your girlfriend? Me: well she actually doesn’t drink at all she doesn’t like it. She often buys me beer for The Weeknd’s tho. One time we went to a movie and she got a little irritated because I waited for beer then complained about them not having any craft beer. So she said, “you couldn’t have just said no” and drank something else. However, she apologized after and said it’s worth waiting if it’s my only day off.
Evaluator said this qualifies for continued drinking despite causing significant relation consequences, ie divorce.

1. Evaluator : you have sleep issues I hear, and your chart says you’ve had depression in the past, don’t you know that alcohol can effect your sleep and mood Me: yes that’s why I never drink within 3 hours of sleep.

Evaluator but you knew this and still drank
Evaluator: qualifies for drinking despite unwanted physical or psychological effects (this should be recurring to effects the alcohol is causing, I have had insomnia sense the age of 10 long before I took my first sip)
7 evaluator you were late for work and told my you had a drink the day before
Me: Yes but I was late because I didn’t sleep and took double my sleeping meds, I will never do that again
Qualifies for 2 significant work or school issues in the past year ( a therapist and other psychologist ensured me that being late on or a few days doesn’t count they typically are getting fired or failing) ( moreover, this would assume I was late do to drinking it’s self and also assume if happened more than once)

1. • Alcohol is often taken in larger amounts or over a longer period than was intended

He never once asked anything related to this question yet said I qualified in his final report 9. A great deal of time is spent in activities necessary to obtain alcohol, use alcohol, or recover from its effects. The evaluators logic here was sense I was late for work and I had 2 beers the day before I must be taking long to recover from it (this is assuming I missed due to alcohol)

1. Tolerance drinking more to require the same effect: this he checked as true in his final note however it was never even discussed in our evaluation. I did mention to him that I’ve been drinking more than I had earlier in the year frequency wise, but they said nothing to do with quantity or needing more.
   
2. Wanting to drink so bad you can not think of anything else: this is the only qualification of SAUD my evaluator said I did not have.
   

Moreover, without legal help I was not aware that I could obtain a second evaluation or even oppose going to get evaluated at all, but that wouldn’t have mattered seeing I still thought this was for my health and wellbeing as seen when I was asked why do you think you are here to today, to which I replayed “so that I can be evaluated to see what is needed to get back to work”.
To maks the ordeal more infuriating the evaluator continues to ingratiate himself and lie through the process telling you, “it will be fine as long as you are 100% honest”, “anything you say in here is between you and me” or “you slipped up once with your meds, I know your residnecy program they will probably just want a few more out patient tests”
Two weeks later I received a phone call right before I left for an out of state vacation to visit my nice for her birthday. During the call I was informed that I would be required to complete a partial hospitalization program (PHP) lasting “6-10 weeks” which would coast from 15-50 grand not including doctor visits or housing which is billed separately. I suppressed this inconvenience, enjoyed my vocation and reported when I returned, knowing that I must complete this soon so I may return to work with due to the fact that my payed time off would soon be diminished. At this time I had not yet heard of the organization PRN.
Chapter 3 Guilty till proven innocent: The diagnosis
Shell shocked I arrived to a in patient psychiatric unit and was rapidly cleared to progress to treatment without detoxification. During my 90 day of forced rehabilitation I met a few other individuals who were unjustly and fraudulently forced into treatment. I began to look up to one of these such members of the men’s community, who I will refer to as patient X for ambiguity sake.
Unlike me patient X did have alcohol use disorder. He spent many clinic days drinking to avoid alcoholic withdraws. The curious component of his story is that he admitted his depravity, saught help and through his own journey became sober. The bodies at be, namely his local physician, Health monitoring program, rejected his personal path to sobriety and forced him to undergo 90 days of in patient treatment before he could practice medicine again. When he checked in to rehab he had been sober for over a year.
Ask for Stories of people from online
As for me I spend many sleepless nights pondering how consuming a legal substance in a moderate amount could throw me into significant legal financial issues. My labs my toxicology, my story and my collateral from colleagues from colleagues all indicated light to moderate alcohol use but my evaluators word stood as the word of God.
More frightening was the director of this rehabs acknowledgment of this. The director who happens to also coincidentally be the evaluator, stated to me as well as to staff on multiple occasions: “ I suggest inpatient treatment for everyone who is reported”. “This is safer for me not to miss anyone who could harm patients, and I figure there must be a reason someone reported them.”
I am still elucidating the reason why I was determined guilty and proven innocent, however I can say from my 90 day stent that the majority of the patients at this rehab needed to be there. This program is saving lives of both providers and patients, however it is destroying the lives of those wrongfully accused.
Chapter 4 your lisense rehab or jail : Upon arivil I was sent to a detox hospital underwent a medical examination and was “one of the lucky ones” who required no detoxification and could report directly to PHP. Like everyone else, I spent 90 days in a PHP, being as 6-10 weeks is simply a lie they tell patients to decrease the change of resisting the treatment. When discussing the topic one therapist sated “if we told patients 90 days they would never come.” She then attempted to justify the treatment by outlining the story of a patient she had called who “didn’t make it to treatment” and killed themselves”. It is my belief that it is not the lack of PHP which impelled such professionals to take their life, but them realizing that they now will be obliged to undergo 90 days of PHP, 5 years of PRN monitoring with a loss of autonomy and hundreds of thousands of dollars taken from them that induced their hopelessness. For even if these professionals were truly mentally unstable in their addictions, in every case it was only following a phone call where they were informed they must undergo treatment that they took their life’s. By this time I still haven’t the slightest clue what PRN was.
Despite the security these programs provide for many my 6 main issues with them can be summarized in : 1. Kick backs: evaluators are directors of treatment clinics 2. The reported are guilty till proven innocent 3. The price, the overflow of money these places drag in from both patients and state universities is appalling, they charge separately for every visit and test 4. Although they make the claim that they are individualized, they are anything but. Every patient gets the same stay and treatment from the doctor drunk on the job and the one who was late to a shift 5. They force voluntary treatment. remember that friendly evaluator who promised he had your best interest at heart, so you opened up and told him everything about your substance use/ developmental / family history, well if you don’t stay for 90 days he will be “normally obliged” to tip the board of medical off to you.

1. The programs have overstepped their intended jurisdiction. -these programs work well if they function how they were intended at their inception. Cite original purpose. Originally these programs were designed to protect physicians and civilians from impaired practitioners; being healthcare workers who were impaired at work. Over the years, these organizations have extended their authority to encompass individuals with substance use disorders When not at work and also those who are in training to become healthcare professionals. Take for example myself compared to a physician who is impaired at work. A doctor who arrived for duty under the influence would surely benifit from the extensive testing, therapy and accountability enforced via these programs. In accordance the 20,000$ per year cost is appropriate when only making up roughly 7% of their yearly salary vs nearly half of a residents. In my case with my loss of income from employment, coast of treatment and monitoring, this year I will be required to pay 20,000$ to work. Yes, I will be losing money to work. Even if did indeed have a substance use disorder this level of monitoring wouldn’t not be considered appropriate.

Dispite all of the miscomings of this System My time spend in PHP was indeed helpful, as I believe it would be for anyone. Time for exercise, a reprieve from work and weekly counseling. A sample structure of my day to day schedule is provided below for insight:
Structure The general structure of these rehabitation centers is as follows: 1. One week of orientation phase, where you are not allowed in electronics or contact with the outside world world. Therefore, if you’re going, bring some things you would like to read or study. 2. In phase 2, you can use your phone however you cannot leave campus. You must stay in the dorm on campus. These shitty 1 room run down apartments with two other roommates will cost you about $1000 a week, they are required for at least four weeks and they are billed separately, no insurance will help you out here. 3. In phase 3 you can commute to campus if you beg your therapist and live very close. Whether you’re on campus or living off-campus, you are allowed to leave up to four hours per day. If you commute, you’ll be required to take a sober link decide you must Breath, alcohol test into every 6 hours. Like everything else in this program you must pay for this separately, a few hundred dollars a week. You advanced to other phases by completing assignments, however, assignments are limited by required built-in time, intrusive, scheduling, and reviewing. Therefore, if you do everything as rapidly as possible phase 1 will take one week phase 2 will take three weeks.
Every day schedule:
7:30: wake up, report to the front desk to inform them that you haven’t ran away yet and take and prescribed medications. They keep all your medications and require that you report to take them; for me this was antidepressants in an attempt to dispel the depression I contracted from being forced into treatment and whatever off label medication they were attempting to treat my ADHD with, since control medications were forbidden.
8 am: community group assessments This consisted of other patients presenting their assignments amongst the large group, on the weekends this was often an hour later and 12 study regularly took the place of assignment presentation.
10 am: process group. This was a two hour group therapy session with 6 to 12 other professionals in a therapist and training or occasionally a licensed mental health therapist.
1 pm: recreation This was generally about an hour of some sober themed craft or activity. Once a week this time slot was used for yoga.
2 pm: this was another time slot used for patients to present assignments as well as for individual therapy sessions. Each patient had one individual therapy session lasting 30 minutes per week.
3pm: This was time allotted to work on assignments or go to the gym on your sex specific scheduled gym day.
5pm: this time was used for guest speakers or another 12 step study group.
6 pm : this was generally an off-campus 12 step group
10 pm: report to the front desk and let them know you still haven’t ran away and take and Medication which are prescribed to take at night, then return to your cot bed in your room with 1-2 other roommates.
I found the community to be one of the most beneficial aspects of the PHP program. I was in a cohort of chill ass professionals of the same occupation who were always there to help each other.
Assignments The curriculum of the PHP consisted of assignment based on every step of the 12th step program. Generally, a patient would be required to complete an assignment on their own, review it with other patients, then faculty and finally present the assignment in front of the whole treatment group. You’re only given one assignment at a time and there are multiple steps to each which all requires scheduling this ensures that no matter how determined a patient is a full 90 days of treatment is required to complete all the assignments.
AA structure -the obsolete nature of AA has been verified in numbers studies, but I will refrain from divulging here and lend that endeavor to Dr. Lance Dodes very thorough discussion on the subject,in “the sober truth “
In all sincerity, if I truely did have a severe use disorder this experience could have been life saving. I only wish I could have used my 50 grand for someone who has spent their life time In addictive without reprieve. My first conversation when I was given my phone back was how I wish my father could be able to attend this PHP.
Chapter 5 reporting and PRN Self reporting What they ask you What you should tell them
There’s a third-party agency called professional resource network. Every state has their own. This agency works as a liaison between you and whatever credentialing service your occupation requires. Essentially they ensure your monitoring after treatment. Stake governments and licensing boards trust them, mainly because they monitor with the highest level of intrusiveness. This alleviates much work for state governments and licensing boards because once an individual is being monitored by a professional resource network, then they are deemed appropriate for duty and no further investigation/litigation needs to occur, as long as the monitored individual completely complies.
Because I was never impaired at work I was never reported to this agency. The general workflow of things someone would report you to professional resource network, then the resource network would contact you, and then you would be required to report for an evaluation at a treatment center, which would inevitably result in a suggestion I’ve treatment at that given treatment center. In my case I was sent to the treatment center without PRN being involved. Thus, two weeks into treatment. I was notified by my therapist that I needed to call PRN and self report. I attempted to resistance given that I did not have a problem and was not individually seeking help. I asked what happened if I didn’t self report. I was told that in order to stay in the treatment program I had to report to PRN. This meant either I report to PRN or I get kicked out of the treatment program and lose my job.
When you report to PRN they will ask you why you are in treatment. They will then list off every substance imaginable, asking you if you have ever tried the substance and when your last use was. Ultimately, they will obtain your discharge information from your treatment center, so it is in your best interest to report only what was found in your biochemical testing. If it wasn’t in your hair, I would argue that you don’t have a use disorder regarding that substance and it’s not relevant. I don’t believe it’s important for them to know that you smoked weed when you were 12.
Chapter 6 The contract:
Before being discharged from a treatment facility, a professional resource network will have you sign a contract. A little known fact which I was oblivious to is that contracts can be negotiated. Though this isn’t it possible, it is highly improbable that you can negotiate your contract since PRN has a power to delay your clearance to return to work.
Contractor almost never personalized, and I have not heard of a contract which is not a five-year agreement. You will sign releases of information so that PRN has access to all of your information which was gathered at the treatment facility. You must have a therapist, psychiatrist, primary care, doctor, and a addiction, medicine psychiatrist. You assign releases of information for all of them. You will be required To commit to: 1. three mutual aid meetings a week which you must log. I log smart recovery meetings. 2. Weekly therapy sessions with an approved mental health therapist from their list 3. Monthly doctors appointments with an addiction medicine psychiatrist 4. Yearly appointments with a primary care physician 5. Monthly appointments with a psychiatrist 6. Daily check-ins on a random drug testing app ( you will agree to weekly urine tests, a peth test 4 times a year, a hair test twice a year and a little caveat that says anything else they deem, clinically reasonable) 7. Quarterly update reports which you are required to obtain from a workplace monitor, therapist, addiction, medicine, psychiatrist, primary care physician and any other doctor you are seeing. 8. You must upload all of your prescriptions into a mobile application every single time you get them refilled and are not allowed to take them until they are approved. 9. Attendance of a PRN group via zoom. This is a local group you are assigned along with other monitored practitioners. There is a fee of roughly 130$ a month to attend this required group. For me all of these requirements coast around 20,000 a year. If you ever have a positive test even if it is the result of contamination from rubbing alcohol or unintentional ingestion of alcohol/ allergy medication your contract will rest to 5 years from the time of positive test. Once your five year contract is completed, you must ask to be released from monitoring. At that point they will search for any reason to keep you under monitoring. This could be dilute urines, daily check ins or a week where you did not attend mutual aid meetings. Every certification and license which you apply for will likely ask you if you were under a monitoring program/ have been treated for substance use. You must give an explanation and check yes. As far as licensing programs are concerned, if you were under the monitoring of PRN, you are safe, however they group practitioners who have had behavioral issues with practitioners who were diverting drugs from work. Therefore, keep in mind that you will be labeled as a sever addict.
7 Back to work and only work. During treatment your only goal is to return to work, however when you return your experience will be drastically distinct from what you remember. For me, I was now working in isolation. Missing six months of my training meant that no other Resident was on the same rotation as me. My coworkers at all formed friend groups. When I returned I was greeted with much concern for my well being. No one would speak to be about my absence, however everyone knew there is only one reason a resident would leave for 6 months then return. My Accdeemic meetings were consisting of attending telling me “I have a target on my back now” and “ I have to preform even better than others” in the light of my time missed. If this wasn’t alienating enough, the majority of Resident events, sponsored by recruiters and my university revolved around alcohol to which I had to give some excuse to why I can not partake with others. I’m fortunate that I do not have an addiction, because these stressful conditions along with the daunting amount of dead and requirements imposed by PRN are enough to make any addict relapse. While I was at treatment, I was in the dative with Samyr stories a physicians whose addictions got the best of them. Physicians who did not make it to treatment, often taking their own life. These stories were presented as a warning. Your addictions will kill you without our treatment was the message. When, in reality I did not hear one story in which the addiction killed physician. Every physician who didn’t make it to treatment took their life after being told they must report to a treatment facility. Perhaps they knew what this entailed and it was not their addiction or getting caught which caused them to end their lives, but the unmanageable and often unreasonable burden that treatment would put on their lives.
9 How to escape So your fucked your in PRN and should be or you should and now your recovered and want to terminated your contract.

1. You ask to be released early done at 1/2 time ( good luck)
2. You have “good reason” (no one has ever been let out of contract because of this reason, the verbiage is far too vague)
3. You serve all your time and they let you out(maybe, as discussed earlier, they would do everything they can to keep you in your contract as long as your practicing)
4. You can’t practice medicine anymore

10 Layer up butter cup : I cannot emphasize the extent to which legal help is required in this process. You much seek it and seek it early. Lawyers can provide many avenues to you early in the process. Once you have committed to treatment, gone for evaluation or are in a PRN contract , this is very little that you or legal help can do. Spend a few thousand dollars when you are accused and save the 20-30,000 later.
After you have been evaluated if you disagree as I did, then this is the process you must undergo. 1. Hire a occupation, defense, lawyer 2. Prove you don’t have an addiction, this is done by having an alternative evaluator with similar credentials state that either you don’t have an addiction or that PRN’s level of monitoring is not medically appropriate ( this will need to be a multi day neuropsychological evaluation, which will cost about $5000). 3. Your lawyer must draft in writing that the medical level of monitoring is not required such as another medical professional and send this to PRN 4. PRN will tattle on you to the board of medicine. 5. The board of medicine will conduct an investigation. 6. At the end or when they believe they have enough reasonable evidence to the board of medicine will suspend your license or claim, you must comply with the PRN contract to practice. 7. At this time your lawyer will defend you in the state court against the board. This is costly but much less than the coast of a 5 year PRN contract 8. If you win you will likely suggest an alternative level of care such as gonna get therapy every week. If you lose, than you wasted a fuck ton of money and are still bound by your PRN contract.
Overall this entire process has coast me Over all coast:
My finances for this year only including PRN and rent are as follows:
120-200$ every week for testing 480-800/ month
65 every week for therapy 195/month
125 every month for PRN group
About 50-69 every month for 2 doctor apts
So at least 745$/month at the lowest
Treatment at the recovery center coast 20,000 for me out of pocket and
I wasn’t payed for 6 months with no FMLA because I am a first year. At the 1 year mark I will have made 26,000 this year after taxes And payed About 29,000 on PRN alone
Rent is 1,000 so that’s 12,000 a year
Just in rent and PRN alone I will be at 26,000- 41,600 -15,600.
I will be in debt by at least 18,000 at the 1 year mark
Coast of treatment center 20,000 (with insurance) For each year of PRN roughly 20,000 Add that to 6 months of attending salary which was delayed due to my treatment time: at least 150,000 Layer coasts along with other evaluations 25,000 Missing 6 months of residency pay 30,000 Coast of 1 year in monitoring: 245,000 Coast of 5 years 325,000
If my case progress to a trail I will require an extra 20,000 in court coasts
Chapter 11 My secondary eval: Dr sushi After I arrived at my treatment center I challenge my evaluation multiple times. Each and every time I was discharged and often accused of alternate mental health/ substance abuse issues to discourage my advances. I was never given the opportunity to undergo alternative assessment, however PRN guidelines state that you can obtain a second option within 7 days of your first. This is a mute point, however, because you will not receive the results of your evaluation until over a week after it is conducted and the second evaluation must be conducted by another PRN hired evaluator of their choosing. During my stay in rehab I contacted PRN multiple times to attempt another evaluation/ legal help. They warned against both stating they were a “waste of money” and “pointless”.
After completing my treatment with the guidance of many addiction, experienced physicians, mental health counselors and psychiatrists recommendations I sought in a secondary evaluation. I chose a highly qualified professional with over 30 years of experience to conduct an extensive neuo psycho social evaluation of me. One that I was sure would be more extensive than the evaluation I received at treatment and more importantly an unbiased evaluation.
The results from my evaluation not only showed that I did not have a substance abuse problem warranting PRN level monitoring, but also that PRN was falling to allow adequate treatment of other conditions such as my ADHD. My evaluation showed my ADHD was not only untreated by PRNs attempt at using non controlled medication, but also in the top 3% most severe presentations of ADHD. My evaluator went on to explain my results by questioning why my treatment center even mandated I undergo neuro cognitive evaluation. The only neurodiverse findings were my IQ, my dyslexia and my ADHD. However, a neuo cognitive examination can be billed separately by treatment centers, therefore they always recommend one.
Chapter 12 Amongst its greed, intrusive nature and faulty accusations, professional recourse network function highly proficiently at the task they were designed to; protective physicians and patients from physicians who are impaired at work. In this domain they save lives, offer second changes and protect the public. When they act beyond their intended jurisdiction by imposing unnecessary monetary demands on practitionersin training, accuse practitioners without proof or act on behavior exemplified outside of a work setting they unjustly and inappropriately attack the week and innocent.
Proposed reform: As a trainee my universities malpractice insurance covers me for mistakes made at work. If a learner mistakenly harms a patient, then the university stands on their behalf. If the learner does something wrong under a teachers direct guidance, then the teacher is at fault. This makes sense logically as well as pragmatically. The state entrusts large amounts of money to hospital systems and universities to train resident physicians. A portion of this money is allocated to malpractice insurance. This should extend to accused impairment.
Suppose a training university was required to cover rehabilitation and monitoring of a resident of whom they claim is impaired. Alternatively they have the option of firing the trainee. This would reduce the number of innocent trainees being accused of impairment, make the process of rehabilitation more fair and provide a better use for tax payer derived dollars, which hospital systems are given to train residents. The truly impaired could still seek help, less false accusations would be made and with the employers having the ability to fire at the moment of impairment, there would be less chance of impairment at work.

Warning: Mentions of violence, blood, and some self harm near the end.
While browsing some random conspiracy site, I found what is a supposedly leaked file from the Nevada County Sheriff's Department; however, nothing has been confirmed. According to the OP, it is believed the following is the personal account of a 21 year old Jonathan Ashford of Grass Valley, California. Normally I would write stuff like this off but this one is...different. I’ve done my best to correct most of the grammar and misspelling while at the same time trying to avoid skewing the original account.
-September 15, 2022
I’ve never really been an outdoor person. Well, I guess that’s because I’ve never really been outdoors much in the first place. And that’s because I guess…I've never been invited? I don’t really have any friends. So, needless to say, I was surprised to find myself on a backpacking trip with a group of 5 other students from my university. The plan was five days in Tahoe National Forest some place called Mystery Lake. Monday-Friday. I don’t know why they decided to do it during the week. Most of us had okay grades at best and part time jobs on the side so taking a week off of it all seemed at the very least a bit irresponsible; and yet, I went anyway. Listen, I didn’t plan it, okay? This was one of my only chances to get to know people. The hike wasn’t too long but my genius self who had only been backpacking once when I was around 9 years old or so decided to carry 60 pounds of bullshit up the mountain resulting in my shoulders being sore and raw for the foreseeable future.
-10:11 PM
To be honest, I don’t really know why they let me come with them. I only know one of them and the group has been ignoring me for pretty much the entire trip. I was always bringing up the back on the hike in and I set up my tent outside of the main camp behind some trees. I haven’t eaten any meals with them or talked to them or, now that I think about it, anything really. Regardless. The trip has been an experience. Hopefully things get more exciting tomorrow.
-September 16
I’ve only ever slept in a tent a couple times so the new environment and lack of sleeping pills resulted in quite a restless night. I woke up at about eleven; everyone else was gone. I remembered they were talking about a day hike on a trail headed north so assuming that’s where they went, I hurried to get dressed and grabbed some granola bars. I’m about to head out. I hope I find them.
-12:21 PM
I’d been briskly walking for around an hour and was feeling quite exhausted so when I heard the group’s voices off in the distance I was very relieved. I started to jog in their direction when–when this jolt or–wave of energy flooded my mind. My head instantly started throbbing and my vision went blurry. The best way I could describe it is–TV static? Like the old TVs that would go all staticky when the signal got bad. I could barely make out shapes and a space in the middle of my vision was especially dark to the point where I couldn’t see past it. That wasn’t the worst of it, though. God no, if only I was that lucky. I can still hear the shrieking. That goddamn shrieking. In an instant all I could hear was this sharp, scratchy shrieking. It pierced through my ears and rooted itself in my head. I think I cried out in pain but even if I did I couldn’t have heard it. It was as if the damned souls of hell all cried out in eternal pain all at once and begged for death. I gripped and pulled at my hair, hardly noticing the pain that resulted from it as I fell to my knees in agony before…
I slowly opened my eyes. My head hurt and there was a slight buzzing in my ears. I lay in a pile of ivy next to a fallen log, my back dampened from the cool soil beneath me. I stood up, the hill on which I previously stood was nowhere in sight. As I leaned my shoulder against a tree to steady myself I heard voices. Cautiously, I walked through the foliage as the low vines dragged along my ankles. As I walked, I looked up. The falling sun cast a soft orange glow across the sky. It was probably around five O’clock or so. I climbed up on a large rock only to realize I was near the main camp. I pin-pointed the voices of my fellow campers as they huddled around a low-burning campfire. As I sat down to listen to them speak I could sense a strong feeling of uneasiness resonating from the group. Then it hit me.
“Are you sure you haven’t seen her since earlier this afternoon?” One of them said, I think his name was Matthew? He was tall and lean, by far the tallest in the group.
“I’m sure! It just doesn’t make sense. One minute she was behind me going on about who knows what and then the next when I turn around she’s gone!” A girl with light brown hair said. I didn’t know her name. I could see tears forming at the corner of her eyes as the wind blew her hair into her face.
“We need to find her before it gets dark. Groups of two; stick together!” A shorter man with brown hair said. Ryan. He was the only one I knew. We weren’t friends. Definitely not. But he was nice enough to me in the classes we had together and I was grateful that I was able to go on the trip with him. As he walked past the boulder I sat beside, paying me no mind, I saw his lower lip quiver as his wide eyes looked straight ahead. He was more nervous than he led on. I zoned out for a few seconds, the static from earlier crawling its way into the corners of my vision when a chipmunk climbing a tree snapped me back to reality and I realized I had been left at camp. I looked around at the tall forest but the group was nowhere in sight. I assumed they wanted me to wait at camp in case the missing girl, Alice, came back, but as I moved toward the dying campfire the call of nature occupied my thoughts. I found a spade and a roll of toilet paper and strode briskly into the forest, the cool Autumn air rushing against my chapped lips as I walked. I reached over to scratch an itch on my arm when I saw it.
“The fuck?” I wondered out loud. There on my upper forearm was…a bite mark. I rattled my brain trying to think what could have made that kind of mark. As I examined it more I confirmed my suspicions. It seemed human. At least I think it was human. It’s not like there are any goddamn monkeys native to Middle of Nowhere, California. There was also a dark purple bruise on my lower forearm. Didn’t remember getting that either.
I looked around for a good spot. Stepping over a log, I set my foot down on something soft. It was Alice. Her right hand crushed and mangled and a dried trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth had pooled on a flattened leaf. I screamed, tripping and falling back in the direction I hoped was the camp. As I jumped over a rock I landed hard on my left ankle as a streak of pain shot up through my body. I was trying to get back up when I heard it. The screeching. It steadily yet quickly faded in until it flooded my hearing. My vision was clouded by that same static. I curled up into a ball, kicking at the air. My eyes watered and I felt the urge to vomit…
A wave of dizziness hit me as I opened my eyes and fell on my tailbone, pain shooting up my back. I lay down on my back and looked up at the trees, my nose bloody. It was still dark. Had I been standing? I tried to recall what I had been doing but all I remembered were faded images. One thing I didn’t forget was the screeching. All that I could remember was covered by that screeching and a faint veil of that static. Just thinking about it made my head throb.
A groan. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I turned to look in the sound’s direction. It was David. He looked injured, lying on the ground, but quickly crawled back in what looked like fear when he saw me.
“You bitch!” He muttered between gritted teeth. Before I could react he was up on his feet charging in my direction. I tried to doge him but the wind was quickly knocked out of me as he headbutted me in the stomach. I fell back onto the ground and between coughs I saw him running towards me. Before he could deliver a heavy stomp to my chest I caught his foot and kicked up into his groin. He stumbled back with a low yelp of pain and, taking my chance while he was stunned, I stood up as fast as I could and prepared to block another attack. He ran up to me and attempted to deliver a blow to my stomach with his right fist, leaving his upper body undefended; I used the opportunity to send a hard punch into the side of his neck. He fell back choking, tears in his eyes. As he tried to sit down he tripped on a root and hit his head on a nearby boulder with a sickening crack. He squirmed for a moment, then nothing.
Silence. There was a faint red stain on the side of the rock, and beneath his blood-stained hair, his head seemed unnervingly misshapen. The closer I looked, the more I saw. Bruised neck, flowing blood, even some pinkish bone exposed near the worst of the damage to his skull. The fall must’ve been worse than I thought. Why would he attack me? What was wrong with him? Had he mistaken me for someone else? I sat against the blood-stained boulder and leaned my head back. I’m exhausted. Everything hurts. My ankle is throbbing. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve slept and I don’t know what to do. I should probably go try to find the camp but…I’m too tired. I think I’m going to go to sleep now.
-September 18
I slept through the entire day and most of the night! Or, at least I think I did. The more I think about it I’m not so sure. It’s like 2:30 AM, glad my phone still works even if my brain doesn’t, just wish I had signal. I’m not sure what to do but I might try to go find
-4:29 AM
Something’s definitely out here with us. Or–me. Not sure how many of the others are left out here. I’m sure that shrieking is tied to something. I heard something off in the distance while writing and decided to go check it out. It was Matthew and that other girl. They were walking briskly and their eyes seemed to be darting around frantically. They were talking in hushed tones but from what I heard they found Alice's body, and they were worried. I was about to reveal myself to them when the shrieking came back. It hit me like a train, and sometimes I think a train would have hurt less. It felt like it lasted for hours, I bit a hole through my lip and fell off of the boulder I was sitting on. I couldn’t see anything except a dark patch of static in the middle of my vision surrounded by more static. All the cuts and bruises in my body seemed to amplify and I could barely breathe. I just wanted it to stop but it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t stop.
The two were dead when I came to. I wasn’t much better off myself. No matter how much I spit I can’t get the taste of blood out of my mouth. My arms are covered in cuts and bruises and my shoulder was dislocated. That was a fun half hour figuring out how to put it back in place. I think whatever is out here with us clouds your vision and makes it impossible to hear anything as a way to hunt you. I’m amazed it hasn’t killed me yet. I hope Ryan is still out there.
-6:06 AM
It’s been a long night. A really long night. I found Ryan but–but now I wish I hadn’t. It was around five AM I think, I had been aimlessly wandering through the forest looking for something, anything. By the most unlucky luck Ryan came stumbling around a tree. When he saw me his eyes went wide.
“Jon, what the hell?” Then he squinted his eyes and seemed to notice the wounds on my arm.
“Oh god,” he said. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife, glaring at me during the process. Before I could reply, he charged me, knife in hand. I–I didn't want to kill him. I really didn’t. He tackled me to the ground, forcing the knife close to my chest. I desperately tried to push him away and being the stronger one, I knocked him off me. As he hurried to get back on top of me I sent my right leg flying into his arm, knocking the knife from his hand. Before he realized what was happening I grabbed the knife from the ground. In what seemed like a last desperate attempt he tried to force me down again but, already having the knife in my hand, I quickly slashed his chest and one of his wrists without thinking. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t mean to kill him! I was just defending myself. I don’t know why he attacked me, what’s gotten into him and David? Is that thing controlling them? They didn’t seem like they were under some kind of spell…I don’t think so at least.
After a soft cry of pain he collapsed and rolled down the steep hill we were standing on. I didn’t bother looking for his body. No point. Odds are that thing would use his body as a trap for me or something. I don’t know anymore.
Somehow I found my way back. I don’t remember how, all I remember is collapsing against a tree out of exhaustion but, here I am at the trailhead. I guess my half dead brain forgot most of it. I don’t know what I’ll do now, I don’t think I’ll tell the police. If they hear that some creepy ghost creature is hiding out in the forest killing my friends I’ll probably get locked up in who the fuck knows where for who the fuck knows what. But, no matter how many or how few believe me, I know something is out there. And I know it’s dangerous. I doubt the bodies will ever be found. That forest is huge and I buried Matthew and Elizabeth, found her name in a backpack she had on.
This will be my last entry. My name is Jonathan Ashford, and I survived something dangerous in the Tahoe national forest. Whatever you do, do not go there. Goodbye.
-September 22, 2022, 5:06 PM
Ryan survived. The police are after me. Apparently he told them I stalked them in the forest and picked them off when they weren’t together. I don’t know what’s happening. There are some gaps in my memory but I know that I didn’t kill those people. I only killed David, and that was self defense. I’m not sure what I’ll do. The police don’t know where I am but I’m sure that won’t last long.
-8:19 PM
I saw an interview with Ryan on the local news while browsing channels. He seemed–off. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. He seemed nervous, shaky. I hope he’s ok. I still don’t understand why he thinks I killed them.
-September 23, 3:12 AM
ok ok. I have a theory. I’ve been up all night thinking and it makes so much sense now. That thing can shriek. Terrifying right? But explainable. The static I still can’t make sense of, there’s no feasible way it could naturally do that. What if whatever supernatural force causes the static can also control people? Maybe that’s why Ryan looks so crazy. It must be controlling him. But why would it want me? Am I immune to its effects? Maybe.
-6:04 AM
They didn’t notice it. It didn’t hit them. When I was spying on Matthew and Elizabeth, right before they were–anyways.
The shrieking hit my ears before the static hit my eyes and in those few seconds, they didn’t notice. It didn’t affect them. They didn’t hear the shrieking. Maybe the shrieking is that monster thing's abilities failing to control me. Maybe that's why ryan-whatever’s controlling Ryan wants me. It’s because I’m a threat to it. Because It can’t control me. When I woke up I was injured, but never killed like the others. Maybe it doesn’t have as much power over me as others.
But why would the authorities believe Ryan? There’s no way his story can add up. Even if that creature, that thing, is intelligent, it can’t be that smart to fake a story. Why are they after me?
-11:42 PM
The police came by today. I was about to update this log again when they started banging on my door. I was able to sneak out a window before they noticed me, glad I live on the ground floor.
Something seemed off about them. I can’t say what but, something, like the uncanny valley effect, where something looks human but isn't. Whatever. It’s probably just my imagination. I need sleep.
-September 24, 2:20 AM
Something is wrong–something is definitely wrong. How did they find me? Holy shit that was close! I was dozing by a couple of dumpsters behind a gas station. Figured it was safe enough since it was out of the way and partly blocked by a fence until I heard dogs barking. Not sure how many of them there are, at least two–maybe three, I can still hear them barking. I figured they were just strays that would hopefully leave me alone until I saw the lights. Damn things half-blinded me!
“Son, what are you doing back here? Can we walk to you?” one of the officers said, his face was clammy and pale, he seemed tired, he seemed–off. I didn’t respond or wait for them to try and get closer, I dashed past them before they could call their dogs on me and jumped the fence, running into the tree line. I managed to climb my way up a tree a ways into the woods before they could get around the fence and send their dogs out. They haven’t found me yet, but they’re still looking for me. I can see their flashlights periodically bathing the tree line in a pale glow. I think I’ll try to wait them out and then climb down and run for as long as I can. Not sure where I’ll go yet but they keep finding me so I’ll have to get creative. Not sure how they’re finding me so quickly and easily, but maybe I can come up with something. Is that–thing finding me? Does it always know where I am? Is it controlling the police? Maybe that's why they looked so…wrong. I don’t know. I’m starting to think I don’t know anything anymore. I keep noticing the static in the corner of my vision occasionally, not sure why.
-September 24, 5:03 PM
I fucked up. Big time. Last night, somehow, I fell asleep. I don’t know how, guess I was just too exhausted. The sound of a helicopter pierced through the top of the tree line. Before I could register everything, I slipped and fell down the tree. I was able to slow my fall a bit by dragging my hands along the tree–hurt like a bitch–but I still landed hard. Can barely sit down. I think I was able to avoid being detected by the helicopter. I’m going to start walking. Not sure where but, I need to go somewhere. The static is constantly in the corner of my vision whenever I focus on it now. Why is this happening?
-10:44 PM
This doesn’t make any sense, I don’t know what's happening anymore! I was wandering through the forest when the static came back. God, it was awful, forgot how bad it was. Hell, maybe it was worse this time. Who knows. This isn’t the weirdest, or worst, part. I woke up in my apartment, I’m exhausted, but don’t have any new visible injuries despite how shitty I feel. Not sure why that thing didn’t try to hurt me, maybe it gave up on trying.
The news was on when I woke up, God I’m so fucked. They found the bodies–the ones that I buried. Of course they found my DNA all over them, used their forensics or whatever to try to explain how I killed everyone. I’ll have to admit if it wasn’t all a setup by some evil entity out to get me it would be pretty convincing. Sometimes–I find myself believing it. I don’t know what to think at this point, nothing makes sense anymore. The static is far more noticeable now. My head is starting to hurt, too.
They haven’t come back to my apartment yet, probably don’t think I would return this soon after they searched the place. I know they’ll be here eventually but I’m too tired to care right now. My brother and his kids used to live a few hours out of town, I think he built a treehouse for his kids somewhere behind the house. Maybe I’ll go try and hide out there for as long as I can. As if that will be very long at all.
-September 26, 6:24 PM
Everywhere I look, everything I watch. They’re always out for me. Everyone is looking for me. The things the police and the media keep saying about me–the evidence that gets released every day, the testimonies, officials saying I have symptoms of psychological problems like psychosis and DID, of Bipolar. More and more–I’m starting to believe it myself. Surely it's that thing. Surely it’s getting in my head…right?
-September 27, 1:03 PM
Made it to the treehouse, glad it’s still here. Had a few close calls along the way when trying to steal food from gas stations but I made it ok. Glad I did, the static is starting to really cloud my vision and my head hurts so bad my ears are starting to ring. I’m not out of the woods yet, that’s for sure. I can sense them...it. They’re trailing me. I think they’re getting close.
I’m so tired, so confused. I don’t know what to do, what to think anymore. What’s next? Maybe I’ll try to get some rest…if I can, that is.
I could try to come up with something, some silver bullet or whatever. I have this one idea, it’s not smart or clever, not even close, but it’s an idea, and it won’t let it–them–it, whatever, win. At least I don’t think it will; besides, surely it has a bigger plan for me, right? There’s no way it would go through all this effort just to kill me…
-4:39
They found me. I can hear them outside. They’re getting closer.
To be honest, I don’t know anymore. Maybe I did kill all those people, maybe I am insane. I don’t know what to believe. There’s so much being said, so many people saying it. I’m just so confused, so tired, so scared.
There's a bomb on the chair beside me, homemade. Glad I grabbed enough supplies to build it. Took me a while to figure it out as well as a few close calls but I think I got it working. They’ll have quite the surprise waiting for them once they find me…
They’re at the base of the tree now. The static has almost completely consumed my vision and my head feels like it’s about to explode. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. I’m not sure why I was made the target of this, why this is happening to me at all, but regardless of the reason, I won’t let them win.
To the creature, or entity, to whatever is doing this to me: I’ll see you in Hell.
Goodbye
Aside from some generic legal stuff to conclude the report, that’s where the document ends. I’m not sure what to make of it. Definitely a lot to take in. I contacted the OP on the site I got this from but haven’t received a response yet, will update if I receive one. For now my only advice is be careful, and don’t go backpacking in Tahoe National Forest. If anyone has any thoughts or info, please, let me know.

Hi! New here. Using a different account as recommended.
I (22F) recently met my MM (35M) at my job. When first approached by him, He was really sweet/nice & respectful. After 3 days or so of seeing me around and talking to me, he asked for my number and offered to take me out.
I was very hesitant as to me it seemed unreal. He is from a different cultural background and he would send certain texts and say certain things about me (my looks) that I have never heard a man in the U.S. say to me before lol. After getting to know him a little more, I now know that is just how he talks and it isn’t fake. He tells me im beautiful all the time and how I take his breath away, how he wants to gaze into my beautiful eyes, etc lol. These things are sweet to me but also out of the norm for me so I don’t know how to exactly receive them other than blush and say thank you.
Fast forward, we were planning a date to the movies and a week or so before, his SO caught him in my car. We weren’t doing anything, just talking & he was kind of playing in my hair and touching my back, nothing crazy. We never got to go out as you would expect. We had met up in that parking lot two times. The first night, he drove to my city and all was fine & the second night, the same & that’s when everything happened. Come to find out, she was tracking him the first time but just couldn’t find out where he was.
I didn’t really know how to take that whole interaction and he apologized for it trying to get back into my good graces and told me that he didn’t know she was tracking him to where we were. He said he didn’t know she turned his location on his phone and it never occurred for him to check as he doesn’t recall when they shared locations before coming to the U.S. or even when they first got here. I do want to say that, he told me that this is the first time he’s ever gone out of his way to actually meet up with someone outside of his marriage and that he had never done this before & I do believe it as he is really sloppy and come to find out, he didn’t even delete our text messages in the beginning when we first started talking. For reference, it’s only been about a month and some change since we’ve been talking and engaging with each other.
We kept talking of course, he has sent me money, we’ve talked on the phone for hours some days/nights when she’s not around, he even told me that he’s in love with me. I told him, I’ve never been in love so im not sure if that’s what I feel for him or what exactly it feels like but I know I do have love and care for him (deeply). We connect on a different level than other people I have talked to, he’s emotionally mature and likes to talk things out, he makes me feel comfortable sexually and just in general and I can be my full self with him. Things have moved kinda fast with us but it also doesn’t feel unnatural and it feels good and I like spending time with him and just talking to him.
More time goes by and I end up getting a hotel by myself (just for fun lol, I love hotels). I did invite him for just a few hrs and we didn’t have sex but he definitely made me feel good and wanted. His SO ends up finding out he sent me money and that’s a whole thing. We meet up a week or so after that at the mall & the park. Those two days, I went to his house after (im really not sure if this was bad or not as I have seen some people say on the adultery subreddit this is probably a bad idea). I go there and again, we didn’t have sex but he makes sure im good of course.
I have never engaged in a physical affair with anyone and I truly don’t believe he has before (bc of his sloppiness) There has been one woman he told me about who was married like him & had kids, but from what he tells me, it didn’t go far (not as far as it has went with me). He also doesn’t have kids with his partner.
About 3 days or so after that, his SO finds out through a recording device put somewhere in the house. I can be heard on it of course. I’m not sure if you would call these D-Days or not but he’s been found out a lot within just this one month of talking and even still continues to go out of his way to contact me in different ways. We have not met up outside of work after those days at his house and have only talked on the phone or seen each other at work and talked there.
Their relationship right now from what he tells me and how we are communicating right now seems like prisoner and warden. There are recording devices all around their home. (He recently found one and moved it only for her to put it back). He goes outside to talk to me otp because of the devices in the home, every time he leaves work she demands to go through his phone, his location is always on, etc. He’s never talks negatively of her and honestly I would feel weird if he did. I do ask questions and he answers them but generally he just tells me that what she is doing is in the norm (culturally, I think?) & even though he doesn’t like it, he has to abide by whatever agreement they have right now.
She’s tried to bait me a couple times. She went through his phone and called me, expecting me to answer but I didn’t. She texted me from the app we use and said “hey” wanting to catch him in something (our thread was deleted but she found my number on the app so I don’t think she really found anything). It was also the weekend and that didn’t make sense to me. (I was also sleep lol). We usually don’t talk on the weekends for obvious reasons and also the weekends are times for myself as me and him do talk throughout the week and at work.
After all of this, we talked recently & I am not exactly sure im looking for a solution but maybe just opinions, advice, anything you can offer lol. I really do like him but I am fine with cutting contact as it hasn’t been that long and even though I really connect with him, he sometimes talks as if he deserves the lack of privacy she’s given him within his own home and even work life.
I don’t care for constant togetherness and I also know what I entered into so I am not asking for his time 100%. I also never asked him to leave his partner or choose because I know I don’t want that (I’m poly) but I do want to spend more alone time with him and see more of him (he might be moving states, not sure). But, his situation just seems like it might not be setup for us to do that like we did a couple times before. I’m just not sure if what we have is even a possibility anymore. I don’t really feel as if I should be telling someone how to act in an affair (if that makes sense lmao). I guess I’m just not sure if I should move forward with continuing talking to him or not?? I know he definitely wants to continue talking.
I will say though, that even though his location has been being tracked & also those times we hung out before, he’s found a way to see me multiple times.
I have seen a lot of people talk about OPSEC but it kinda feels as if he wants to get caught or either doesn’t care as much as he wants to, which is why he is so sloppy. He has said himself (while exploring his own thoughts) that maybe he has acted this way because he wanted to get caught. He’s told me since he’s met me that he doesn’t feel the same for her as he did. (They’ve been married 8 years now I think?)

Idk if this is the right place to post this let alone if I've tagged it right but I need help.
I recently got my long hair trimmed by about 4 inches and it's much healthier etc but now I'm kindof obsessed with another cut... I'm just terrified of getting it. I haven't had any part of my hair shaved in about 4 years but the look I'm debating has a shaved side...
I can braid it and all but that's just not the same so for those of us that have braved a spontaneous shave, how did you do it??
I'm so attached to my hair, it's a huge part of who I am but I feel like some days, I just don't have the energy to style it and having a cut that looks styled no matter what would really help, I just can't bring myself to commit yet....
If anyone has any advice, please please please let me know. I've always struggled with haircuts but I'm so in awe of others with the one I want... Does anyone know of any online tools I can use to try it out? Anything along those lines would be incredible.
Thank you in advance 🙌🏻

Wonder Women

Issue Fifty
Written by u/VoidKiller826
Edited by u/Predaplant
Arc: Revelations
*************************************************************
Greetings, people of Gateway City. This is your new peacekeeper speaking. You might know me as the White Magician, a rather crude name, but I will accept it considering Man’s World's lack of creativity. However, you may also call me Circe, and I am here with an important message that your news station will deliver for all to hear.
SCYTHE is no more: their HQ is under my and the Red Centipedes’ command. The Commander and his soldiers are dead and buried, as you all wished to happen. I was more than happy to oblige you if it meant depriving your stupid President of her next chance for reelection. Any survivors of the prison break are being hunted down by the people they locked in cages, who are more than happy to round them up as they once had been themselves.
But none of that’s important, for this recording is only to be heard by one person: Olympos, Wonder Girl, or whatever the fuck new title name you want to be called. This message is for you: You are to surrender yourself to me here in SCYTHE HQ in the next five hours, and in turn, I will not destroy this piss-end of a city. If you fail, I promise you, I will make Coast City look like a picnic by the time I finish with Gateway.
That cow you call Wonder Woman is dead, and I will make sure everyone else will follow her if you don’t comply with my request.
Your mentor learned a valuable lesson when she tested my patience.
*************************************************************
Spears Apartment - Gateway City:
[...President Cale has announced the complete closure of all access to Gateway City following the prison break that occurred in SCYTHE’s holding facility hours ago,] said Cassandra Arnold from GateNews, the city’s main news station. [We still have an unconfirmed number of escapees following the message sent by the White Magician, but the President has assured GateNews a solution will be found.]
Vanessa Kapatelis watched the TV in dismay. Pacing back and forth in the Spears duplex apartment, she had the TV on to pass the time while Ares worked on helping Helena and Cassandra upstairs.
“Here,” Vanessa turned away from the TV to see Tanya Spears handing her a bottle of water. “Something for you to drink.”
“Thank you,” Vanessa accepted the bottle. “I would prefer a beer, but this will make do.”
“My mom has her wine collection in a locked cabinet,” Tanya noted, pointing at the kitchen. “She doesn’t know that I know that, but I can get you a bottle?”
Vanessa chuckled. “Thanks, but I don’t want a girl your age to be walking around with alcohol or to get you in trouble with your mom.” She twisted the bottle cap and slowly drank. “I needed that… it feels like I’ve been dry for months.”
“It’s actually been 3 hours,” Tanya said, sitting on the sofa and opening her tablet to look over the internet. “I hope what she said wasn’t true… about Wonder Woman not being around…”
Taking a seat by her side, Vanessa saw that Tanya was reading through the report on what happened to SCYTHE. The escaped convicts had taken control of the SCYTHE headquarters and equipment after killing many of the agents that had stood in their way.
Seeing the photo of SCYTHE HQ burning angered her. That place should represent the absolute shield of Gateway. Now, it had come under the control of the convicts that they were supposed to stop because of Aeeta Branwen. A name that had made her happy now belonged to a stranger who had lied to her all this time.
Memories of their most intimate moments came flooding back: their first conversation, their first date, their kiss, and the morning after their date in her apartment. It was a moment when she thought she could finally stop grieving and move on from what happened to Coast City. And now, that had been disintegrated into oblivion.
In anger, she crushed the bottle with her hand, spraying water all over the table and the floor.
“Shit!” Vanessa stood up, finally realizing her mistake. “I am sorry!”
“Oh, it's fine!” Tanya ran to the kitchen to grab some paper towels. “It’s just water.”
“I know it’s just…” Taking the paper towel, the two began wiping the floor and the table. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“I’ll bet with everything that happened,” said Tanya, giving Vanessa a supportive smile. “Your friends are getting hurt, and you can’t do anything but watch. It would piss anyone off. I know it did with me when the RedCent guys invaded EE Tower.”
“Yeah…” Vanessa sat back on the sofa. “But this… I not only possibly lost many friends, but I was betrayed by someone I loved, someone who I thought was the one for me…” she said, distraught, as tears ran down her face.
Tanya, without saying anything more, hugged Vanessa closely. Despite them knowing each other for only a few hours, Tanya knew that Vanessa was in pain. Watching her loved ones being hurt by someone that she trusted must have been a hard truth to accept.
The doors upstairs opening and closing caught the two’s attention. Looking up, they saw Somya Spears descending, looking exhausted, like she had gone ten rounds in the ring. As she reached the ground floor, Tanya ran up to her mother, hugged her close, and guided her to the nearest chair to rest.
“Is everything alright, mom?” Tanya asked, worried.
“Yeah… just felt that I might take that long overdue vacation…” Somya answered, leaning against the soft chair with a tired sigh. “Maybe we’ll go to Paris like you wanted, Tanya…”
More steps followed, and Ares, or Mars as he insisted to be called, followed Somya, pulling his folded-up sleeves back. Unlike Somya, he didn’t seem any different from when he went upstairs to help the Sandsmarks, but the few strands of hair on his face told a different story.
“How are they?” Vanessa asked, walking up to the former God of War. “Are they ok?”
Ares turned to Vanessa. “The girl has a lot of heart, far too stubborn to let a beating keep her down.” He said with praise, impressed with the former Wonder Girl’s willpower. “Her Sumerian blood will help her heal in only a few days, but it won’t help her mental wounds after I told her the news about her mother.”
Vanessa had a lot of questions about what he had said, especially the word Sumerian; perhaps Cassie was not simply half-Olympian. However, she focused on the most important detail in his explanation. “What happened with Helena?” She asked in a worried tone. “Is she-”
“She is alive,” Ares said, but his expression shifted, frowning, making her nervous. “Physically, she will recover, she has only a few cuts and bruises. Even a human like her can heal those.”
“But?”
“But it's the spell Circe struck her with. It is unlike anything I’ve seen because it is of her creation,” Ares explained, and Vanessa ground her teeth together when she heard the name belonging to the stranger who hurt her and her loved ones. “Whatever she used, it is affecting her very soul, slowly killing her.”
“Like a virus?” Vanessa asked, and Ares nodded. “Magic can do that?”
“It does,” Ares answered. “Magic can create a nuclear bomb if the user has the patience for it. And Circe is a master at it, one of the very best and most gifted witches on the planet, so making something like this would be as easy as making a cake for her.”
Magic had never been SCYTHE’s priority, but the Commander still made them study anything related to the subject in case they had to face it. Vanessa had never expected to see it at this scale.
“Can you break it?” Vanessa asked. “Find a way to break the curse from Helena’s soul?”
Ares took a deep breath, pocketing his hands. “It’s too complex to break. I will admit Magic is not my strongest suit, but even if you bring in someone knowledgeable, it would be a while for them to break her creation,” he explained. “You need someone at her level of knowledge when it comes to magic, and I am not the best person to face her in that department.”
“Then we call for a specialist, anyone, really,” Vanessa said in desperation. “If this is like a virus, a curse, then we bring a surgeon to cut it out! Maybe Cassie can use her Justice Legion connection, or maybe you can call someone for a favor.”
Vanessa's desperation was clear. She was willing to call for the Justice Legion, the very people she swore to go against for their vigilantism, if it meant saving Helena Sandsmark, her promise be damned.
“The spell is growing far too rapidly. By the time you find someone, it will be far too late,” Ares said solemnly. “The only person in the world who can break the spell without any problem or fear of failsafe is Hecate, the Goddess of Magic. She was Circe’s mentor, and she taught her everything she could about magic. No matter how complex it is, Hecate would understand it.”
“She can help us?”
Ares shook his head. “No, she has no interest in helping the world unless it is connected to her directly, and even then, dealing with her is the worst-case scenario because there is a chance she’ll side with Circe before she even thinks of helping us.”
“So what now?” Vanessa asked, sounding defeated. “Just let Helena die? Let Cassie suffer? Let Circe win?!” she shouted angrily, finally addressing Circe by name. All of this explanation from Ares told her one thing: that the Witch had them beat, and they couldn’t do anything about it.
Ares didn’t react to her outburst, while the Spears looked worried. Tanya, for her part, tried to walk up to calm Vanessa, but the War God raised his hand to stop her, shaking his head and giving her the silent sign to let Vanessa be.
“There is one way: it will be quicker if we act fast enough, but it would take everything from all of us for it to happen,” Ares said, beginning his explanation. “There is a chain link connecting the spell, from the spell caster to Circe. This means it can be broken if we force Circe to release the chain connecting her to Helena…” he explained, letting his words be understood by the occupants in the room before finishing with one last note. “Killing Circe would also break the binding if she didn’t leave any contingencies.”
Vanessa gritted her teeth. “So we have to make her break the spell, and hopefully she doesn’t screw us over… or we kill her, and hopefully she still doesn’t screw us over even in death?” she asked, and Ares nodded. “What kind of person is willing to put in all that work? Just for revenge? On Diana, who is long gone?”
Ares shrugged and turned to the Spears, his gaze focused on Tanya, his daughter. Someone whom he never thought he would meet again was facing him, without knowledge of their blood relations.
“Possibly,” Ares answered, taking a step back. “But if there is one thing I know for sure, Circe does not put these kinds of bindings without any reason. Whatever that reason is involves Cassandra Sandsmark and whether she will choose to make Circe break the spell or kill her, tainting her forever.”
Silence came to the room, letting Ares’s words sink in for all occupants, which might have been the same words he said to the Sandsmarks.
*************************************************************
The room of Somya Spears was quiet, with the only sound being the breathing of Helena Sandsmark lying on the bed sleeping. The room was spacious, with an expensive queen-sized bed as expected from an interim CEO of one the largest companies in the world.
Seated a few feet away on a chair was Cassandra Sandsmark, dressed in fresh clothes given to her by Somya after throwing off the bloody tattered ones she had arrived in. Watching her mother closely, Cassandra’s mind was racing, especially after what Ares told her about the curse Circe placed on her mother, slowly destroying her soul bit by bit until she was nothing but a husk.
“Dammit!” In anger at their situation, she crushed the armchair, tearing its arm off like it was made of paper. If she was stronger, faster, and had the heart for it, she would have stopped the Witch, stopped her from hurting her city, the people of SCYTHE, and those caught in the crossfire, stopped her from hurting her mother…
She buried her face into her hands, tears running down her eyes as she despaired. Everything she worked on after Coast City evaporated was ground up under a very powerful enemy out for revenge.
Considering Circe’s ultimatum, her city could well be gone by the time this was over.
“Artemis… please be safe…” she whispered. She had nearly had a panic attack when she heard the news of the Amazon heading to SCYTHE HQ to stop the prison break, and then… nothing. No matter how many times she dialed her phone, there was no one answering, and she feared for the worst.
She heard her mother coughing, and Cassandra was quickly by her side. “Mom!” she called for her, holding her hand.
“Cassandra?...” Her mother said her name weakly. Her skin was becoming paler, a clear sign that the curse spell was working. “Are you… ok?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” Cassandra answered, covering the bandages hidden inside her clothes. “We’re safe. You’re safe.” she said, tightening both her hands around her mothers.
“Did you… break something?” She asked, looking at the chair behind her. “You shouldn’t be… doing that… we are guests…”
Cassandra laughed, her tears falling away. “Sorry… it’s just… it’s been a hell of a week…”
Helena touched her daughter’s cheek, noticing the bandage on it. “You’re… hurt…”
“It’s alright, Mom. Just a few bruises,” Cassandra assured. “You shouldn’t worry, you know I can take it…”
“I am your… mother, Cassandra,” Helena said, facing her daughter. “Demi-God or not… I will always be worried… scared for my little girl.”
Cassandra’s tears came back. Seeing her mother remain strong despite everything made her happy, and she was terrified of losing her.
“So… my soul is cursed?” Helena asked.
“You heard all that?”
“Can’t not… with all the swearing…” Helena noted, giving her daughter a small smile. “You shouldn’t swear at people, Cassandra, especially those who are trying to help.”
“I know, I know,” Cassandra said. She had gone off on Ares after he explained what happened to her mother, and she might have overreacted when she put all her anger on the former War God. “It’s just… I don’t want to lose you… not while we can fix this.”
Helena sat up on her bed, fully facing her daughter. “Which is why… I don’t want you to make the wrong choice.”
“I won’t,” Cassandra said with a low tone. “I will make Circe free you from this curse-”
“No, Cassandra,” Helena grabbed both of Cassandra’s hands with hers. “That is not what I meant…”
Cassandra raised her brows, confused. “Mom?”
“I heard everything… from Circe’s spell… how it works… and how it can be broken…” Helena said, shocking Cassandra. “I know you already decided what you feel you have to do.”
Cassandra didn’t answer, avoiding her mother’s disapproving gaze accusing her. Ares said the quickest way to break the binding and the spell was either by forcing Circe to break it herself or by killing her, severing the connection.
But if what Circe said was true, that Diana decided to kill her instead of making her surrender like everyone else who faced her, that means there was no chance the Witch would submit willingly. She would rather die than give the satisfaction of admitting defeat.
Which left only one solution where she could save her mother.
Helena sighed, knowing what decision her daughter might have made. She held her hand tightly and changed the subject. “I have to tell you something…”
“No, mom. You’re not giving me the ‘Dying Speech’, not while there is a chance we can save you-”
“It’s about your father,” Helena cut her off, shutting Cassandra up. “Your real father…”
Cassandra remembered Circe calling her Daughter of Enlil, not Zeus. Ares said he was a friend of her father, which confused her because Ares hated Zeus, so it wouldn’t make sense that he would help out even if they were his siblings.
“Enlil…” Cassandra said the name aloud, and Helena’s eyes widened, her breath hitching when she heard the name. “Circe… she called me Daughter of Enlil… Child of the Sky...”
Helena took a deep breath, bringing her daughter closer. “Yes… that is true…” she began. “You are not Zeus’s daughter, Cassandra, nor you are an Olympian in any way… but you are in fact… Sumerian… Mesopotamian,” The elder Sandsmark brought her youngest closer and spoke carefully, as if worried that someone might hear them. “Your father is Enlil, the Sumerian God of Wind… and he was the kindest man I have ever known…”
From then on, Helena explained Cassandra’s origins as carefully as possible, pushing on even while the spell affected her. She explained how she met Enlil, a man with golden hair similar to Cassandra’s, who introduced himself as an expert in Mesopotamian history during an expedition in Iraq. They had become rivals at first due to their clashing personalities, but how that developed into respect, to eventually falling in love after a very lengthy adventure that sounded like the plot of The Mummy.
And that love resulted in Cassandra’s birth. He helped raise her with Helena for the first year and a half before he disappeared because he had Olympian enemies and had to leave them to keep them safe.
While she explained all this, Cassandra’s mind went to another piece of critical information. Her father’s true identity had never been the most important thing for her. But what made it important was what Circe told her about Diana’s true reason for coming to Gateway City. It wasn’t just settling in a ‘piss-end of a city’ the more she taught about it, the more she realized the terrifying truth behind her mentor’s reasoning for coming to the city.
Diana was sent to find Cassandra, a Sumerian Demi-God, the Olympians greatest enemy since the Titans, and eliminate her. The prophecy of the Godkiller that they had feared might have come from Cassandra, but all it did was start a long, personal, and bloody war between two women because of the gods' demands for blood.
And now, she, Artemis, and Gateway City suffered the consequences. Even after Diana’s death, Circe would not let her hatred for what had happened to her go, and if it meant destroying her mentor’s legacy, she would do it.
‘Diana…’ Cassandra thought in sadness.
*************************************************************
SCYTHE Sub Base - Industrial District:
“I am not sure how you were able to do it, but you somehow found an ever more depressing place than that HQ of yours. It makes the cell you put us in look like a five-star hotel room,” said one Pamela Isley, formerly Poison Ivy, seated in the middle of a large room behind a large table. Around her were what was left of the SCYTHE agents they had saved during the escape, all working to get the makeshift base they had hidden up and running.
Alexei Abramovici, the Bloodcrow of SCYTHE, glared at the former supervillain, not happy with her comment. He turned to one of his men and began barking orders, “You! Get the goddamn Black Room working! We are running blind here!”
‘Worker drones even without their Commander.’ Pamela looked on unimpressed at the agents. She had never been that sympathetic to the plight of cops getting killed, especially militarized ones. The once mighty and feared peacekeepers of Gateway, who went to war against all the crime syndicates and the Red Centipedes, were now a mere little squad that won’t be able to protect a mini-mart, let alone every escaped convict under the command of the White Magician.
“Man… the signal here sucks!” complained Miguel Barragan by her side, raising his phone and trying to catch any kind of signal. “Could barely talk to my boyfriend when I called him, and can’t connect to the internet,” he complained. He tried once again to call but he couldn’t find a signal. “Useless brick…”
“We are underground in a bunker previously owned by Neo-Nazis, Barragan,” Pamela noted. From what she had heard, this used to be an old RedCent hideout that SCYTHE took over after the war, using it as a smaller base in case of emergency. “Not receiving any signal is part of the appeal of the place.”
“Bunker, huh…” Miguel chuckled. The name Bunker reminded him of the super name that he picked out; the more time passed, the more convinced he was that it was the right one.
Pamela gave a confused look at his expression and shrugged it off. Turning to her right, she saw the silent Emily Sung staring off into the distance. Unlike Barragan, Emily had other matters on her mind. Whatever she sensed or saw back at SCYTHE HQ freaked her out, like seeing something she shouldn’t.
Just as Pamela was about to ask her how she was feeling, a knock on the large blast doors echoed around the base, loud enough for all to hear. Quickly, everyone felt tense, and the SCYTHE agents covered the door as Alexei signaled them to aim their weapons. After the news of the escaped convicts taking control of SCYTHE HQ and their equipment and weaponry, the agents knew that they were being haunted now by the convicts looking for revenge, so they were not taking any chances.
“Would you mind opening the door!” A familiar voice said behind the door, a voice Pamela recognized right away. “I have a bloody Amazon here, and I would like her off my fur!”
“Barbara?” Pamela realized.
“Minerva? As in the Cheetah?” Alexei asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “She could be working with them, with the White Magician.”
“She isn’t,” Pamela answered, glaring at the SCYTHE soldier for the accusation. “She would never ally with the psychos you had under lock and key.”
Alexei scoffed. “That woman got a cemetery filled with people who say otherwise, and she hurt the mother of someone I know.”
Before the two could argue, Miguel stood up and decided to take action. He extended his hand, forming a large arm construct from it, and grabbed the handle of the blast door. With one pull, he opened it wide. Barbara entered. Her feline form made some of the SCYTHE agents tense, and weapons were still trained on her.
“Quite the welcoming committee…” she noted in sarcasm. “Now, would you be dears and get this woman some help?” She adjusted the unconscious and bloody Artemis on her back. Her blood covered Barbara’s fur.
“Medic!” Alexei called for an agent nearby before turning to Miguel. “And you, don’t use your freaky powers until I order you to do so.”
“Sorry tin man, I don’t speak fascist,” Miguel responded with a smirk, and Alexei glared at him.
The medic quickly came to Barbara and guided her to a nearby makeshift hospital room, which had a bed and various equipment to help the SCYTHE wounded. Barbara went in haste, and gently, with the help of the medic, they placed the injured Amazon on the bed, her blood soaking the white sheets red.
“How the hell did you even find us?” Alexei asked as he and the others entered. “I made sure I covered all our steps.”
“You did,” Barbara noted, stepping back to let the medic check on Artemis. She turned to Alexei and pointed at her nose. “But one of you has a very special pheromone that I can smell for miles,” she said with a smile as she turned her gaze to Pamela. “Still with those rose scents around you.”
The redhead smiled. “Maybe it’s that mark you left on me.”
“More than you think, Pammy.”
“Christ…” the medic gasped, catching everyone’s attention. “How is she still alive? And how long has she been like this?” He asked, examining the injured Amazon.
Her armor was wholly wrecked, beyond repair. Her headpiece was half broken, and the gauntlets and braces on her arms and legs were dented and unusable. Her injuries were severe: open wounds, slash marks, and burn marks were all over her body, and judging from blows on her armor, she might have had a few broken bones as well.
“Didn’t bother to look at the time with some of the grunts that were sent after us,” Barbara answered, leaning on a nearby chair as fatigue finally set in for her. “But these Amazons are too stubborn to die, and I know that from experience…”
The number of times Barbara thought she had beaten Diana only for the Amazon to get back up and beat her back was many, and it frustrated the woman to no end, but now she couldn’t help but be in awe at the resilience of these warriors.
“Her Amazon gifts will heal her,” Barbara noted. “But I am not sure how long it will take…”
“I doubt it will take more than a few days at least…” the medic noted, bringing out some bandages and wrapping them around her arms. “She will need a miracle to even walk out of here on her own two feet.”
“Uhmm…” Everyone in the room turned to Emily Sung, who stood by the doorway. “I… I think I can help her heal faster.”
Barbara and the medic gave her an odd look. To better explain it, Emily brought her hands together, and a small flame began to form from her palm. However, they weren’t bright orange flames; they were blue flames, and they didn’t feel any heat from them.
“I developed this technique while training,” said Emily. “It's a fire spell that doesn’t burn, but it heals people. I first used it on Miguel when he hurt his hands, and it was instantaneous,” she explained, and Miguel showed his fully healed hand as if he was demonstrating it. “But this will be the first time I will heal someone with this severe of injuries…”
Pamela and Barbara looked at the blue flames with wide eyes. In Pamela’s case, she was told that Emily had powers, and from Miguel’s description, she had the power of all the elements. However, seeing it firsthand and feeling it from just that tiny flame made her sense there was power behind it, warmth, like the sun.
“Do it,” Barbara said, taking a step back. “At this point, if we need magic to get her back into the fight, we better get to it before we lose her for real.” She turned to the shocked medic. This was the first time he would ever see magic in play. “And you, guide her in whatever wounds need to be healed.”
The medic nodded. It was better than nothing. With his guidance and Miguel’s support by her side, Emily went to work to heal Wonder Woman, who was in a state of life and death if they didn’t work fast enough, all while Circe and her crew were out there terrorizing the city.
“What’s the news out there?” Alexei asked after the three left the infirmary room. “We are in the dark here, and I couldn’t radio in anyone with the pieces of junk we got. Not even my brother, who was trying to get as many agents as possible.”
“Brother?” Barbara asked before she realized who his brother was. Her expression became solemn. She remembered the Warhammer who stayed behind to slow Circe and her crew, giving Barbara a chance to escape with Artemis on her back. “The guy with the Hammer…”
Alexei furrowed his brows, noticing the change in her expression. “What happened to my brother?”
Barbara took a deep breath and began explaining everything that had happened: the White Magician’s true identity, her taking over SCYTHE HQ, her ultimatum to Wonder Girl, and finally, Anatoly Abromivici’s sacrifice to save them.
*************************************************************
Somewhere in Gateway…
With the loss of SCYTHE and their headquarters, the surviving agents didn’t have the necessary support from the intel agents in the Black Room to fight off against the newly revived Red Centipedes, now grown more powerful with the help of the escaped convicts, more than happy to exact revenge.
With the bridges closed off, SCYTHE’s weakened state, and Wonder Woman being presumed dead, the city had been thrown into chaos. Streets filled with criminals and looters taking full advantage of what had happened, stealing anything from everyone across the island.
Red Centipedes roamed the streets with military trucks, taken from SCYTHE after their HQ had fallen to the White Magician’s control, making full use of their hardware to hunt down any surviving agent, delivering the message that they were the new peacekeepers of Gateway.
“Let me go!”
A woman, a worker from Taco Whiz, was being dragged from the streets by a group of RedCent grunts. Taken into a nearby corner, the RedCent dropped the worker on the dirty ground. Their eyes had terrible intentions behind them.
“Come on, man,” one RedCent grunt said from behind to his buddy. “We are supposed to find those SCYTHE fuckers, not mess around.”
“You’re serious?” The buddy looked at his friend like he was crazy. “We’ve been locked for months in SCYTHE’s cells; we can have a few minutes of fun.”
“Please! Don’t do this!” The woman screamed, tears falling from her eyes, afraid of what they would do to her. She tried to stand up and run away but was quickly pushed back down on the pavement.
The RedCent approached the woman, who crawled away from them in fear. “Come on, girl, I just need to release all this stress after being locked up for so long!” He proclaimed, giving the woman a leery look before turning to his buddy. “Hey man, I can share! Maybe we can get someone else from the street-”
The RedCent stopped speaking, catching his breath for a moment after he saw his buddy lying on the ground face first, knocked out cold. Looking up, his eyes widened in shock when he saw the person standing before him. “You’re… you were supposed to be dead?!”
Covered in heavy bandages and wrecked NIGHT armor, and carrying a mace in his hand and a pissed-off look on his face, Commander Hector Hall stood before the RedCent grunt like a dark spectre coming back to life. Kicking the knocked-out buddy aside, the Commander looked between the grunt and the terrified woman before he hardened his glare at the RedCent.
“Stay back!” The RedCent grunt aimed his weapon, hands shaking in fear. “I said stay the fuck back-”
In a moment, Hall moved at such a speed he looked like a blur, cutting the distance between the two. With one swing of his mace, he smacked him squarely on the head, sending him to the ground.
Hall turned to the woman he saved, who looked at him in horror. “Go… get to safety…”
Without another word, the woman ran toward the exit and into the streets, away from the alley. Now alone with the two RedCents, Hall grabbed the knocked-out buddy and woke him up, making the man see the bandaged-up Hall looking down at him with hateful eyes.
“You… I want you to send your boss a message…” Hall began, making him face the Commander. “Tell the White Magician, Circe, that I am declaring war on her and on anyone who stands by her side.” He turned and walked up to the other grunt, who was crawling away from the Commander in fear, grabbing his bleeding head. He begged for his life, but Hall ignored his pleas. “And this, this is for my men that you Centipedes have killed…”
He lifted his bloody mace and brought it down like a hammer on the begging Red Centipede as his buddy looked on in horror. He lifted it up once more to reveal the man’s head was crushed like a watermelon.
Commander Hector Hall was still alive, and as long as he was still breathing, SCYTHE would remain standing to fight against all threats against Gateway City.
*************************************************************

Wonder Women Vol 3.

Previous Issue <> Next Issue

I've been thinking that if Spy x Family ever got a live action adaptation (never gonna/never should happen?), whether as a film (trilogy?) or microseries, then a smart way of truncating the story would be to have Loid and Anya have a pre-established father-daughter relationship as a result of him rescuing her from the lab.
Twilight infiltrates the lab as a janitor, discovers that Subject 007 is the only survivor from their human trials and immediately decides to rescue her. Fortunately for him, the facility is distracted by a completely coincidental simultaneous attack by the mysterious Thorn Princess (who wears a mask in this adaptation since part of her Garden-mandated M. O. is to allow a survivor every once in a while to build up her reputation... in this case, said survivor just happens to be the dumbstruck Twilight, still in disguise. She informs him that she's about to rig the place to blow and that he should leave now. He runs off to retrieve Anya from her hiding place, where he told her to stay while he investigated the sounds of fighting. Thorn Princess allows them to leave, since Twilight was able to convince her that he really was just a hard-working man who was disgusted by the experiments and just wanted to help this girl escape. They part ways and the lab is destroyed.
Although in my imagination, said infiltration-turned-rescue would have happened while Anya is four, allowing her the awareness to get overly attached to Twilight, thus resulting in him getting automatically assigned by the higher ups from WISE (they're the only ones who know about her power) as her guardian/mentor. His mission is to protect her while helping her hone her abilities. Whether she becomes a spy or an ordinary well-adjusted citizen, would be up to her once she comes of age... All of this could be a cold open prologue narrated by Anya in the style of a spy novel. It's a mental diary entry she recites to herself on the anniversary of her rescue.
This would be a great way of shortening the set up as far as Loid and Anya are concerned. Among the Forger family, these two have known each other for longer and are the only ones who have any knowledge of Operation Strix and are actively working for its success (Yor is a wonderful and essential addition to the family, but sometimes she does feel a bit like an outsider... which she is: as far as she knows, she's Loid's second wife and Anya's stepmother).
If this hypothetical adaptation has Twilight rescue Anya as an infant/toddler and Operation Strix happens when she's around eleven or twelve, then this would allow the casting director to look for older, more experienced child actors for the role. But then again, a twelve year old Anya who was raised by Twilight may not be so eager to ship her spy dad with a freaking assassin they just so happen to bump into... unless said assassin happened to attack the lab several years ago and coincidentally allowed Twilight to survive and thus liberate little Anya! (As for why Yor doesn't recognize Anya now... Um, she just forgot, okay! :D But seriously, if pink hair were to be a rare, but not too rare, hair color in this adaptation's universe, then there would be little reason for Yor to suspect that Anya Forger is the same kid she helped rescue a few years back, especially if she doesn't recall hearing the child's name at the time.)
I imagine the first film of this hypothetical adaptation to start with "Dr. Loid Forger" being visited by his "mother-in-law" (Handler) who informs him that WISE HQ has determined that Anya and her ability are necessary for Operation Strix. Twilight, who has grown attached to Anya over the years, is upset but reluctantly agrees upon hearing the reasoning behind the decision. Anya is much less reluctant! After moving to Berlint and passing the entrance exam for Eden Academy, they receive the letter about both parents showing up for the interview. They come up with a plan to hire a single woman as a nanny for Anya, a woman who they can convince to also act as Anya's mother for the interview and trustworthy enough to keep quiet about it. While looking for prospects, the pair end up reuniting with an oblivious Yor.
So as not to complicate the plot too much (in the case of a standalone film with a soft potential sequel hook at the end) let's say that Yor had, at this point, handed in her resignation to the Shopkeeper since Yuri is now a grown man who's taking good care of himself. Unfortunately for Yor, resigning from Garden basically means getting politely excommunicated by the organization. No longer will they spare any of their resources to provide for her or to protect her from the authorities (should it ever come to that). She's on her own. So she's out job hunting when she coincidentally crosses paths with the Forgers. Seeing Anya makes Yor think of the time she helped rescue a pink haired kid from a lab. Anya reads her mind and she KNOWS that she's found the mom she wants!
Anya takes Loid aside to explain that Yor is Thorn Princess. She also tries to convince him of the benefits of keeping a jobless assassin away from unassuming civilians and from enemy employment by hiring her themselves. They'd keep her out of the loop as far as operation Strix was concerned, instead monitoring her as they keep her around as a loyal nanny with the skills of a bodyguard. After much pestering from Anya, Loid very reluctantly hires Yor as her nanny (and also fake mother for the interview).
(Now, Yuri is either still an SSS officer, or just a regular government employee... If the latter, then Yor might be able to get him to forge her marriage certificate later. He might grudgingly go along with it, the guy did give his sister a job... but he better not touch her.)
After that, the film would focus a bit on Anya adapting to life as an Eden student and befriending Becky and trying to befriend Damian... Maybe even showing a montage of the Forgers going about their daily lives: Anya doing good/badly at school and earning stellas/tonitrus bolts, Loid going out to do other spy jobs with Franky, Yuri (toned down) paying visits and eventually introducing his girlfriend Fiona (also toned down), and Yor settling in and finding peace in her new life as "Mrs. Forger".
Eventually, Anya sets her sights on earning another stella by signing up for community service at the dog adoption fair leading to an adaptation of the Doggy Crisis arc as the climax. Loid is called in by WISE and Yor is left to accompany Anya. Blah blah blah. Maybe Damian's also doing community service for the stella and ends up getting entangled with the terrorists and Anya ends up saving him at one point. Yor stops the terrorists that WISE couldn't capture. Perhaps, as a backup plan, the terrorists found and hired another excommunicated Garden assassin to take out the Westalian ambassador. Higher stakes may also force Anya to reveal her powers to Yor in order to help Loid in time.
At the end of the day the Forgers get to adopt Bond and Yor is brought in on Loid and Anya's secret, becoming an active participant of Operation Strix. Throughout the film, Loid has seen how quickly Anya and Yor clicked and grew close together and how they obviously loved each other. Loid ("for the mission, for Anya", he tries insist, but drops the excuses) proposes to Yor for real with a grenade pin. She happily accepts.
The film ends with the Forgers settling into their new lives as a family... One night while having dinner, the phone rings. Anya gets up to answer it, leaving Loid and Yor alone and trying to flirt with each other. Anya comes back, phone still in hand, explaining that the caller is Damian whose parents have given permission to invite friends and their parents over for his birthday party. Anya shares a knowing look with her parents, who both give her a nod. She says her thanks and accepts the invitation, hangs up the phone, and rejoins her parents at the table, gives Bond some food from her plate, Loid and Yor resume talking about their day. As this peaceful family scene plays out the music takes on a jazzy tune, clearly implying that the Forgers are already making plans. Cut to title: SPY X FAMILY.
Roll credits. :)

Last spring I was already busy in preparing. Not only just tickets but also lots of items such as make-ups, clothes, and some weird stuff. They filled my suitcase. I spent some money on skin-care items and beauty salons as well.
On the other hand, this year all I did was to wonder if I buy the double cheery colored necklace. When I told you that it showed my expectation, I hope you were not unhappy but understood my doubtful smile on the pitch of the movie Major Tom in Alternative Universe 2.
It was OK for me that our first and last movie failed to launch. In hindsight, I enjoyed all the making processes and did well. Writing a script, practicing performance, preparing equipment. Never filming, though.
I thank you for inviting me on that summer short movie. I looked at my photos and found I looked younger. (I know you don't believe it or you can't imagine how I could look older than that. 😩) I went on a diet, did some exercise, bought a ridiculously expensive eye cream, had my hair cut with no discount. They were good, but I believe the youthful spirit that you fed me helped a lot. You kept pouring your energy on me all these years. Maybe I helped you, too, traveling back to the past where we once belonged without feeling nostalgia.
I played well a role of an almost Cinderella. Well, then, did you expect me to want it again? If you had seen things in my suitcase, you wouldn't ask. Lots of props, unused. (Or did you see them? Later I found you knew that I brought a white summer dress with me. I didn't wear it at all. That's why I suspect you are either a stalker, a hacker or a clairvoyant. :)
You are like Peter Pan and doesn't care how cruel time is. When a new spring has come, however, I didn't think I could perform the same Bibbidi-Bobbidi boo magic.
I forgot that today's topic was a necklace. I bought some silver stuff when I was young, but I rarely buy jewelries by myself. Last summer I thought I needed a real one. Since I am old, I decided to buy gold, not silver. I just didn't know how expensive it was 😢. (It was not even gold but yellow gold.) I ordered it online. I was so shocked to see how small the diamond was. My daughter guessed the price at $1. I agreed with her. It felt like it was telling my fate... Still thank you for noticing the tiniest diamond. Now I don't know where it is anymore.
I don't think I can do this farce again.
This spring all I did was checking that pink zircon necklace every time I passed the shop. It was an outlet item and even much cheaper. Thought it represented my attitude this year and felt sad. I wanted it quite a while but hesitated to have it when I thought about the meaning of the action.
I will tell you a good and a bad news. First, I finally bought it when the cherry blossoms were already gone!! I wondered if this would be a good re-start of my story writing this year. Second, it is too pink, too Barbie, which means too young for me.... I like the hue, but I should've chosen sakura color, not double cherry. I really wanted it and maybe I still....
Mr. Fortune Teller, what does this means?
Recently I started to check clothes again. Warmer ones. Gloves. Jackets. "Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo"? Nah.
Remember I always carried a ticket, some money for one drink, OK, maybe a phone nowadays with me. No bag, no sack, either. No suitcase, ofc.
Whatever comes in the future, I will travel lightly this time. Maybe I will see you again like the daughter of the air as I always wish to be.
S.

(continuation of part 1)

III. Searching for Aerith Beyond FFVII

There were absolutely no answers in Remake or OG (at this point in my research, Rebirth wasn’t released yet), no matter how much I looked; nothing at all hinted at how Cloud could’ve obtained the memories of OG that emerge in Remake as MOTFs. I knew I had to look elsewhere to search for more clues, so I decided to check every piece of media ever released by SE with a mention of Cloud or Aerith in it, digging for hints in the compilation and beyond.
And boy, did I find them.
III. a) Core Worlds and Suspension Worlds
There are a couple of general FF rules that we need to establish before going forward.
It’s important to note that there are multiple realms in which the FF stories take place, each with a different name, history and society. This ensures that all FF stories occur separately, never intercepting or interacting— though they do have creatures like moogles and chocobos in common, as well as concepts like airships, gil, magic and some form of crystal. For simplicity, I will refer to these separate worlds in which the numbered FF games (FFI, FFII, FFIII, etc) occur as “core worlds”.
Characters from different core worlds may appear together in non-numbered FF games, the events of which have no impact on the core world at all: it seems that sometime after a FF character has reached the end of their core world’s plot-line, they may somehow be summoned to far-removed realms where they will face new adventures. I call these far-removed realms “suspension worlds”. One example of a FF game that takes place in a suspension world is Dissidia Final Fantasy, wherein characters from multiple core worlds unite to accomplish a mission as a team.
III. b) Final Fantasy Tactics
First on our list of non-compilation SE games to explore is 1997’s Final Fantasy Tactics (FFT), a game whose plot takes place in the suspension world of Ivalice. Let’s plot out the relevant events, and then analyze!
III. b) i. Fact-Finding
The main character of FFT, Ramza, encounters a brunette flower peddler with Aerith’s iconic, gravity-defying bangs:
\"Aeris\" in FFT's Ivalice
If you choose to buy a flower from her, she express her relief: apparently, business isn’t going well because no one is interested in flowers. The girl wistfully dreams aloud:

“When is my knight in shining armor going to take me away from here...?”

Later, Ramza and his companions encounter a mysterious machine that can summon people from across universes. The machine is activated, and a rather rude young man with spiky blonde hair appears. Cloud claims he used to be in SOLDIER, and says the last thing he remembers is “getting stuck in the current”. He looks to be disoriented and lost, and suffers from piercing headaches. Mere moments after being summoned to Ivalice, Cloud rambles:

“What’s this? My fingers are tingling… My eyes… they’re burning… Stop… stop it [Se]phiroth…”

He dashes out of the room, but not without announcing:

“I must go… must go to that place…”

Outside, Cloud encounters the brunette flower girl Ramza met earlier. She offers Cloud a flower, but he only stares at her wordlessly:

“Flower girl: Buy a flower? Only 1 gil.
Cloud: …
Flower girl: Something wrong? Do I resemble someone?”
Cloud: No… it’s nothing.”

As soon as Cloud leaves, a gang of ruffians surround the flower girl and start harassing her, demanding payment that’s apparently overdue. One of them finally calls her by her name: “Aeris”. He grabs her, insinuating that he might sexually assault her in lieu of payment. Aeris is not strong enough to push him away. That’s when Cloud returns:

“Cloud: Get your hand off her!
Thug: What did you say!?
Cloud: Didn't you hear me? Get your dirty hand off her!
[…]
Cloud, to Aeris: Go… now.”

Aeris heeds Cloud’s advice, fleeing the scene before a fight between Cloud and the thug can break out. After Cloud scares the ruffians off with the help of Ramza and his companions, he speaks once more:

“I lost… something very important… Ever since, I’ve been lost […]. What should I do? What about this pain [?] Must go… to the Promised Land.”

III. b) ii. Fact Analysis
There’s a lot to unpack here, all of which you probably clocked in your head upon reading, but let’s put it down in writing.
While FFT Cloud’s memory is far from perfect, the Aeris he encounters in Ivalice doesn’t recognize him at all. FFVII Ultimania Omega addresses this question without answering it:

“[The flower seller’s] name is Aeris, and she has the same appearance and tone of voice as the Aeris of FFVII. However, when she comes across Cloud, she does not recognize him. Could she really be the same Aerith who appears in FFVII but with memory loss, or is she a completely different character?” (“#4 Proof of Omega”, “FFVII in Other Games”, “Final Fantasy Tactics”, page 560).

Regardless of her unknown identity and inability to recognize Cloud, FFT Aeris’ fantasy of a “knight in shining armor” is quite reminiscent of the flower girl/bodyguard dynamic we’ve come to know and love. Cloud’s armor doesn’t shine, but in my opinion, if you’re looking for the dystopian, corporatocratic equivalent of a knight, you can’t get much closer than a supposed-former-SOLDIER-turned-bodyguard. Additionally, despite his rude and cold attitude toward Ramza’s gang, the urgency with which Cloud swoops in to save the flower girl from the ruffians betrays a softer, warmer side to him: the flower girl/bodyguard dynamic strikes again!
FFT Cloud’s dialogue borrows two lines from the speech OG Cloud makes as Aerith lies dead in his arms (disk 1, chapter 28): “My fingers are tingling. My mouth is dry. My eyes are burning!” and “What are we supposed to do? What about my pain?” You might’ve noticed that this glimpse of grief Cloud experiences in FFT bears a resemblance to the fourth MOTF 4 experienced by Remake Cloud (see section “II. a)”). Could it be that FFT Cloud and Remake Cloud have something in common?
Shortly after being summoned to Ivalice, FFT Cloud declares that he must go to “that place”, a mysterious line that is later elucidated when he tells Ramza that he must go to the Promised Land and find the “very important” thing he’s lost. The Promised Land is the Cetra culture’s afterlife, meaning FFT Cloud is looking for someone who’s died, someone “very important” to him. OG suggests this is none other than Aerith:

“Cait Sith, reading Cloud’s fortune: You will find [what] you pursue. However, you will lose the most precious thing” (disk 1, chapter 16, English translation by Kotaku’s “Let’s Mosey: A Slow Translation of Final Fantasy Seven: Part Eight” by Tim Rogers, 9:42-9:52).

&

“Cloud, after seeing Aerith’s hand reach for him through the Lifestream: … I think I'm beginning to understand.
Tifa: What?
Cloud: An answer from the Planet… the Promised Land... I think I can meet her... there” (disk 3, chapter 3).

Finally, let’s try to understand where on the OG timeline Cloud was summoned to this suspension world from and what he remembers. His comment about getting stuck in a current has to be about the Lifestream; apparently, on top of its atemporal nature, it can act as a conduit to other worlds. One only enters the Lifestream if they’ve somehow fallen into the core of the planet or once they’ve passed away and returned to the planet. Both scenarios merit consideration.
On the one hand, it’s possible that Cloud was summoned to Ivalice after he and Tifa fall into the core of the planet: this point in the FFVII OG timeline occurs after Aerith’s death and shortly before Cloud finds out he was never SOLDIER, which matches the gaps in FFT Cloud’s memory quite well. However, this scenario does not account for the vagueness with which FFT Cloud remembers Aerith and her death. Most importantly, Cloud’s realization that he can find Aerith in the Promised Land occurs much later in the game (FFVII OG, disk 3, chapter 3) than when he falls into the Lifestream with Tifa (FFVII OG, disk 2, chapter 8).
On the other hand, FFT Cloud’s vague yet persistent memories of Aerith suggest that he’s been summoned to Ivalice after his eventual death post-OG, but also that he’s lost quite a large portion of his memories. His incomplete memory loss is likely the result of Cloud’s individuality’s erosion by the Lifestream after death, which we discussed in section “II. a) ii.”. We can therefore surmise that by the time he is summoned to Ivalice from the Lifestream, Cloud has been dead for long enough that the Lifestream eroded a large portion of the memories of his lifetime. This post-death scenario is likelier than the first. The memory of Cloud’s realization that he was never SOLDIER must be gone, which explains why he claims otherwise upon being summoned to Ivalice. Contrastingly, vestiges of Cloud’s OG memories of Aerith cling to his soul, even after others have been wiped clean. Could this be a consequence of their soulmate bond? Could the strength of Cloud’s love and grief for Aerith have made his memories of her stronger and more difficult for the Lifestream to erode? Could it be both?
One thing is clear: Aerith is of fundamental importance to Cloud, even when he can’t quite remember her. In fact, the only other character he remembers and/or mentions in FFT is Sephiroth. It does make sense that the memories of those who have marked one’s soul forevermore would be the most difficult for the Lifestream to erode.
III. c) Dissidia Final Fantasy
The next stop on our travels through suspension worlds is 2008’s Dissidia Final Fantasy! Now strap in, because here’s where things get really serious.
III. c) i. Fact Finding
In the suspension world of Dissidia Final Fantasy (DFF), the goddess of harmony Cosmos and the god of discord Chaos are engaged in a never-ending cycle of conflict. Both deities need warriors to fight on their behalf, so they recruit core world characters into their respective teams by summoning them to DFF. Some of these summoned characters are FFIV’s Cecil, FFVI’s Terra, FFVII’s Sephiroth, FFX’s Tidus, and of course, FFVII’s Cloud. The warriors find themselves in the suspension world of DFF with no memories of their core worlds’ plotlines. However, as the DFF adventure progresses, they are able to recover pieces of their memories here and there. It isn’t clear how much they come to remember. Ultimately, the warriors hope to return home to their core worlds by fighting in this war and seeing to its end.
Cloud is summoned to DFF as a warrior on the side of Chaos, who seeks to destroy all existence. Sephiroth is also on Chaos’ side, meaning the two are teammates despite being enemies in their core world of FFVII. It just so happens that Tifa is a summoned warrior in DFF too, though she’s fighting on Cosmos’ side. Intrigued by her vague familiarity, Sephiroth hypothesizes that killing Tifa will bring back his memories of OG’s plot line: before long, the masamune wielder finds Tifa alone and corners her into a one-on-one fight. Thankfully, Cloud swoops in and saves her before Sephiroth can do any harm. Tifa is thankful for Cloud’s help, though confused that Cloud would elect to assist her and turn against a fellow warrior of Chaos; she doesn’t remember what Sephiroth and Cloud mean to each other in OG. In fact, Tifa doesn’t even remember Cloud’s name or that they share a core world, though Cloud feels somewhat familiar to her. For his part, Cloud at least remembers that Tifa is someone he cares about from his core world. As Tifa thanks Cloud for saving her from Sephiroth, something she says elicits an odd reaction from the warrior of Chaos:

“Tifa: The way you showed up and fought that guy off. It was a pretty cool thing to watch. You were like a hero, charging in to save the girl.
Cloud gasps at her words. She doesn’t notice” (Dissidia 012: Treachery of the Gods, report 5: “Unexpected Fulfillment 2”).

On another note, Cloud knows he will have to fight Tifa once the Cosmos-Chaos conflict comes to a head, as they are on opposing teams. He thinks to himself:

“Once [her] memories return, [she]’ll lose the will to fight just like I have. So... Before that can happen, I have to act...” (Dissidia 012: Treachery of the Gods, report 5: “Unexpected Fulfillment 2”).

In order to end the cycle of the conflict and to avoid fighting Tifa, Cloud decides to try and defeat Chaos himself. Predictably, Cloud is no match for the deity. As he dies, Cloud pleads the following to the goddess Cosmos:

“Cosmos, goddess of harmony. If you can hear me, listen to my plea. I beg you. Save her. Save my friend… Tifa.”

Cosmos hears him and responds immediately:

“Cosmos: An end to this conflict, and a life spared? This is your heart's desire? If your will remains unchanged, I shall bring you here when the battle draws to a close. Cloud. My chosen" (Dissidia 0.13: Treachery of the Gods, report 7: “Unexpected Fulfillment 3”).

Cloud’s wish is granted by Cosmos: the first phase of the conflict ends without Tifa getting hurt, and she is sent away from the suspension world of DFF before the second phase begins. Cloud is saved from death, and Cosmos enlists him into her team of warriors for phase two: this time, Cloud is fighting on the good side.
Now we enter phase two of the war. Cosmos tells her team of ten core world warriors that in order to save the world from Chaos’ destruction, they must collect what she describes as crystals containing the power to persist through darkness. I call these the “DFF crystals”. There are ten DFF crystals in total: one for every warrior in Cosmos’ group to find. To obtain their crystal, each hero must overcome a trial that will confront them with whatever personal struggle they faced in their core world; if they prove themselves worthy, their DFF crystal will appear to them. On one hand, some warriors’ DFF crystals simply take the form of the crystals found in their core world. For example, Onion Knight’s DFF crystal looks to be nothing more than one of FFIII’s elemental crystals, which hold little to no personal significance to him. On the other hand, some warriors’ DFF crystals symbolize something more personal to their respective warriors. For instance, Cecil’s DFF crystal looks to be one of FFIV’s dark crystals, which specifically represent the dichotomy of light and darkness he struggles with in his core world’s plot line. Cosmos describes the quest for the DFF crystals as follows:

“Cosmos: The crystals embody the strength to face despair. With ten gathered, there is hope yet to save the world. The path to your crystal will be perilous... and different for each and every one of you. But you must believe in and follow your own path. Even if you know not where that path leads" (Dissidia 013: Light to All, prologue: “A Final Hope”).

From this exposition, simply keep in mind that: Cloud must find his crystal by overcoming a personal trial, and his crystal may have the appearance of an object in OG that’s important to him.
Once the team is debriefed on their mission, Cloud remains reticent to fight; he doesn’t much like the mysterious nature of this conflict. Not knowing exactly what they’re all fighting for is clearly bothersome to the swordsman, and the idea of thoughtlessly engaging in battles leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Fellow warrior Firion understands that without a reason to fight, Cloud’s heart just isn’t in it. He imparts upon Cloud that he must have a dream he’s fighting to protect, something he wants to see come true, to motivate him to stop Chaos from destroying all existence. Unfortunately, Cloud doesn’t have a dream to preserve, or can’t find one for himself:

“Cloud: I've looked, but I'm still empty-handed. And without a dream, what do you suppose I should do? […] Maybe what I'm looking for... isn't here” (Dissidia 0.13: Light to All, chapter 1: “Beyond Doubt”, “Gateway of Good and Evil”).

Another fellow warrior, Cecil, expresses worry for Cloud, whose response evokes the main theme of FFVII OG:

“Cecil: Everyone's worried, Cloud. But... Do you shoulder a larger concern?
Cloud: Concern... Maybe a sense of loss" (Dissidia 0.13: Light to All, chapter 1: “Beyond Doubt”, “Beyond the Continent”).

Whatever Cloud is looking for “isn’t [there]”, and he feels “a sense of loss”: Cloud’s motivating dream has been lost to him. This is later reasserted in a conversation with Terra, another warrior of Cosmos:

“Terra: And you, Cloud... What's your dream?
Cloud: I've lost mine" (Dissidia 0.13: Light to All, chapter 3: “The Chosen Battle”, “Gateway of True Intent”).

Later, Cloud encounters and fights Sephiroth, who is still a part of Chaos’ team. Sephiroth is defeated, but not before he’s taunted Cloud with his habitual puppet talk. However, Cloud remains strong and refutes Sephiroth’s manipulation, asserting that only he can determine his own path. This must’ve been Cloud’s personal trial, because his crystal appears at that very moment: it is a small, light green orb that looks like materia from his core world. Having pocketed his crystal, Cloud decides he must find his own reason to fight. Interestingly, his search is depicted as intertwined with Fate:

“Cloud: Even if I have my doubts... I have to find my own answer […] Until then, I'll keep fighting.
Narration: The warrior has vowed to keep fighting— and keep fighting he will […]. Etched in destiny, his quest for answers continues on” (Dissidia 0.13: Light to All, chapter 1: “Beyond Doubt”, “Gulg Gateway”).

Later, the nemeses meet again in a segment called “Recurring Tragedy”. Their interactions here are particularly interesting. Sephiroth speaks of making Cloud suffer through despair and pain as though referencing their history together:

"Sephiroth: This disease called hope is eating you alive. The world of suffering was born out of such half-baked ideals.
Cloud: If that's the case, I have to endure the suffering. There's no moving on if I run from it.
Sephiroth: If that is what you wish for, you shall drown in the pain. I'll lead you to true despair. [My] shadow is burned into your heart. We'll meet again, Cloud. I'll keep coming back— as long as you are who you are."
Sephiroth disappears. Cloud looks out into the distance before the scene ends.
“Cloud: No thanks. The one I really want to meet is…” (Dissidia 013: Light to All, epilogue: “Conclusion of a Cycle”, “Recurring Tragedy”).

This final line suggests Cloud has finally found a reason to fight: he wants to meet someone unspecified.
Finally, after the war has ended, we arrive at the final cutscene of DFF. I will let you read the full script, with notes added by me in bold behind the spoiler censors. Please do not read my notes if you do not wish to encounter spoilers for FFI, FFII, FFIII, FFIV, FFV, FFVI, FFVIII, FFIX or FFX:

“[The] heroes are all standing together in a grassy field with a forest behind them. Birds are chirping, the sun is shining brightly, and the wind is blowing gently. The heroes look around them in awe. They're all holding their crystals.
WoL: The battle has come to an end...
Tidus notices that his crystal has begun to emanate a blue glow.>! His crystal is a movie sphere from his core world of FFX: a capsule containing sounds and images that people record for later viewing. Tidus’ crystal likely represents the specific movie sphere recorded by his love interest Yuna, which revealed that she’d loved him from the beginning.!<
Tidus: Gotta go, huh...
The blue glow transfers to him as well. He turns to look at the others
[…] Tidus grins at the others, then turns and runs toward a nearby lake. He leaps into it in a manner reminiscent of [the events] of FFX. He vanishes as he descends toward the lake.
Zidane: We're not vanishing. We're returning—
Zidane is sitting on a tree limb as he says this. His crystal begins to glow gold, as does he. His crystal is shaped like a highly important ‘progenitor of all life’ crystal from his core world of FFIX.
Zidane: — to where we're supposed to be.
Zidane spins around the tree limb with the use of his tail and launches toward the sun. He's lost to view.
A white feather then drifts down from that direction and Squall catches it. The feather is reminiscent of his love Rinoa Heartilly, whose character symbol is a white feather. In fact, Squall’s crystal looks like a mix of his revolver gunblade from FFVIII and Rinoa’s feather motif. [Squall glows blue.]
Squall: Perhaps we can go on a mission together again.
Squall vanishes.
Cloud is then visible, standing in [a] flower field. The flowers are white and yellow. Cloud has his crystal, a light green materia from his core world of FFVII, in hand.
Cloud: [(Chuckles shortly, like a scoff)] Not interested.
Cloud walks off into the flower field, gaining a green glow. He vanishes.
A snowflake then falls into Terra's right hand as her crystal begins to glow pink. The flames drawn on her crystal represent her power, which is connected to the element of fire: her character arc in FFVI.
Terra: I think I've learned how to keep going. Thank you— and take care.
Terra glows pink and then vanishes. Bartz throws a stick. He's glowing pink as well.
Bartz: When you're having the most fun, that's when time always flies. His crystal is the Adamantite from his core world of FFV.
Bartz vanishes.
Cecil: It's mine to pass on—
A moon appears behind Cecil and goes through its phases as he begins to glow blue. His crystal has shadowed and illuminated parts, representing the duality of his character, which is central to his personal arc in his core world of FFIV. It also represents his brother Golbez, who has chosen the darkness. Cecil considers his familial bond with Golbez his guiding light and hopes to be with him someday.
Cecil: — this strength I've gained from everyone.
Cecil vanishes.
Onion Knight hugs his crystal and looks up toward the sky. His crystal is shaped like those found in his core world of FFIII**.**
Onion Knight: Everyone... thank you!
OK briefly glows blue and then vanishes.
There are wild roses at Firion's feet. He and WoL are looking toward the sky. WoL suddenly begins walking away while Firion looks down and sees the roses.
Firion: This isn't the end. Another dream is waiting to begin.
His crystal is the color of the wild roses that were at the center of his dream and of his motivation to fight Chaos. The roses are also the emblem of the Rebel Army he was a part of in his core world of FFII. His crystal is shaped like Pandaemonium, the final dungeon of his core world story. Firion gains a violet glow and then vanishes.
WoL is walking through the field and then comes to a stop. He's looking at something.
WoL: May the light forever shine upon us.”

As you can see, everyone’s crystal is very important to the story of their core world, and in the cases of at least Tidus, Squall, Terra and Cecil, the crystals represent something very personal. What about Cloud and his crystal, then? What about the dream he lost and the person he wants to meet? Let’s begin analyzing to answer these questions.
III. c) ii. Fact Analysis
Firstly, it’s clear to me that the Cloud that appears in DFF is a post-OG Cloud, given how many plot points from OG he interacts with. I’m reticent to say whether or not this post-OG Cloud is dead like in FFT, as he recovers many of his memories of OG during DFF and there is no evidence of him having passed away and joined the Lifestream.
The second thing I’d like to point out is Cloud’s strange reaction when Tifa compares him to a hero who swoops in and saves the girl from the bad guy. Cloud gasps, indicating that her words mean something to him; the trope Tifa references must therefore be included somewhere in the FFVII OG plot-line. Some of you are surely ahead of me by now, having realized that only the tragic antithesis of this trope appears in OG: Cloud is unable to save Aerith from Sephiroth (disk 1, chapter 28). Whether or not DFF Cloud remembers Aerith herself at this point, it’s clear he recalls the pain and guilt of losing Aerith to Sephiroth.
Next, let’s address Cloud’s lost dream: to meet an unspecified person. It seems Cloud is aware at this point that in OG, he was eternally separated from the person he dreams of meeting. So, who was he separated from in his core world? Who can he never meet again, even if his team of warriors defeats Chaos and Cloud returns to the realm of FFVII? There are a few options —his mother, his father, Zack, Jessie, Biggs, Wedge, and any other person he knew who died—, but the sheer narrative weight that Aerith’s untimely death carries makes it clear who he truly wants to meet. This is corroborated by Cloud’s “I think I can meet her… there” line in OG (disk 3 chapter 3), by FFT Cloud’s search for Aerith during his appearance in Ivalice, and by Cloud’s strange reaction to Tifa’s comparing him to a hero who swoops in and saves the girl from the bad guy. All the available evidence suggests that Cloud’s dream is indeed to reunite with Aerith, and that this dream is “lost” to him because she was killed by Sephiroth (disk 1, chapter 28). This would also explain the title of the DFF segment “Recurring Tragedy”, since as we all know, the ultimate tragedy of FFVII OG is Aerith’s death. Considering Sephiroth was the one to take Aerith away from Cloud, Sephiroth’s threats of drowning him in despair in “Recurring Tragedy” only solidify this interpretation of Cloud’s lost dream.
Finally, we arrive at the ending cutscene. Cosmos’ warriors return to where they belong to try and accomplish whatever dream they held as motivation during the Cosmos-Chaos conflict, each carrying their DFF crystal. Cloud is shown standing in a field of white and yellow flowers and walking deeper into it with a light green materia in hand. Why was a white and yellow flower field chosen to represent DFF Cloud’s dream? The answer is obvious. White and yellow flowers symbolize Aerith: she sold Cloud a yellow blossom upon first meeting him in OG (disk 1, chapter 1), and her yellow and white flowerbed cushioned Cloud’s fall when the two reunited in the Sector 5 church (disk 1, chapter 4). What’s more, we have the iconic credits video of the original cut of Advent Children to refer to, wherein Cloud is seen driving near flower fields. Aerith stands there (3:20), seemingly waiting for him. Here’s what Nomura had to say about this credits scene:

"[...] we filmed the video for the ending credits in Hawaii. There are fields of flowers on both sides of the road, and the colors —yellow and white— are the same as the flowers in Aerith's church […]. With Aerith, 'flowers' have been her image throughout the series” (FFVII Reunion Files, “Countdown to Reunion”, “Stories from CG Production”, page 87).

Even in the Advent Children Complete cut of the film, where Aerith is not shown standing in the field, the flowers and their symbolism of Aerith remain. That being so, it’s more than fair to say that the white and yellow flowers in DFF’s ending cutscene serve as yet another confirmation that Cloud’s dream is to be with Aerith.
With all of this established, we can address the nature of Cloud’s DFF crystal. As we established, every core world has its own version of a crystal, each possessing a distinct appearance, function and meaning. Materia are the crystals of FFVII, so one could be satisfied by the proposition that Cloud’s DFF crystal is simply meant to represent a random materia. However, I think Cloud’s crystal is specifically the White Materia, as it represents Aerith’s sacrifice, her importance to the plot and what she died fighting for. If any one object symbolizes her death, it’s the White Materia; it’s even given closeups during the event (2:33-3:02). Besides, unlike any other materia in FFVII, the White Materia is known to glow a light green when Holy has been activated:

“Bugenhagen: If [the prayer] reaches the planet, the White Materia will begin to glow a pale green” (FFVII OG, disk 2, chapter 15).

Here are pictures of the White Materia in OG and Advent Children, and two pictures of Cloud's DFF crystal (in order) so you can compare for yourself:
https://preview.redd.it/0qtumfeyfq0d1.jpg?width=386&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3995f010738c83fca0c5842a0564d0a9ad206dfd
https://preview.redd.it/0kj525tzfq0d1.jpg?width=1144&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=575573ef1d2c937635cf569d4a376886a24b384c
Cloud's DFF Crystal
Cloud’s DFF crystal
So far, in both suspension world games we’ve examined (FFT and DFF), Cloud is searching for Aerith. As a final note on DFF, it may interest you to know that codirector of the Remake trilogy Toriyama was actually a writer for DFF: he may have carried some themes from DFF to Remake…
III. d) Detour: The Final Fantasy 30th Anniversary Farewell Exposition
Before we hop onto the next suspension world, let’s return to ours for a quick detour: the 2018 Final Fantasy 30th Anniversary Expo. Themed with farewells and tragedy, this expo showcased the heartbreaking goodbyes featured in different FF games. Artwork, clips, quotes and images aplenty here! As the highly anticipated Remake was going to be coming out approximately a year and a half later, the FFVII section of the expo featured a few sneak peek Remake designs. This means the expo was at least partly curated with the Remake trilogy in mind; there could be interesting material in the FFVII section of the expo related to Remake. Let’s dive in!
Unsurprisingly, the focus of the FFVII section is Cloud and Aerith, since she is the loved one he lost in OG. Zack is also given a mention, however Aerith was the glaringly central star of the show. To showcase how important Aerith’s farewell in particular was to the expo, the FFVII portion was introduced by a photo of Cloud lowering Aerith into her watery grave and a video of her tragic death:
Final Fantasy 30th Anniversary Farewell Exposition, FFVII Introduction
The description under the video screen reads:

“She was gone in the blink of an eye. But the pain never went away.
Aerith awoke the ultimate magic to protect the planet and the people she loved. Yet her life came to a sudden end at the hands of Sephiroth, a man bent on seeing the world destroyed. Even the usually stoic Cloud couldn’t hide his grief at the unexpected death of an irreplaceable companion. ‘My fingers are tingling. My mouth is dry. My eyes are burning.’ True words, revealing Cloud’s deep sorrow” (Final Fantasy 30th Anniversary Exposition).

Conveniently enough for us, the expo’s tagline is “Who is the person you want to meet again?” Given that Aerith holds the spotlight in the FFVII section of the expo, it’s clear who SE is telling us Cloud wants to reunite with. Recall Cloud’s unfinished line in DFF: “The one I really want to meet is..." (Dissidia 013: Light to All, epilogue: “Conclusion of a Cycle”, “Recurring Tragedy”). We theorized that he must be referring to Aerith, and now, we are certain.
The expo also had pamphlet descriptions of the farewells depicted. Here is the general summary of FFVII‘s farewell story according to that pamphlet:

“The story follows the lead character Cloud, but it is the heroine, Aerith, who opens Cloud’s eyes and helps bring him closer to understanding the mystery that is his past. Through her, we draw closer to the truth of the story.
This scene, in which the heroine Aerith is lost, is easily the most shocking and tragic in the story. No one expected to say goodbye to such a major character in the middle of the story. Rumors of a secret way to revive Aerith spread, and it was clear players were having a hard time saying goodbye to her too. Even now, twenty years later, it still feels like a shocking turn of events” (Final Fantasy 30th Anniversary Exposition Pamphlet, page 36).

It’s interesting that SE would mention the rumors of Aerith’s revival circulated by players back in 1997, especially as fans were awaiting Remake’s release…
In light of everything we’ve analyzed so far, it can be said that between FFT (1997) and this farewell expo (2018), SE has consistently demonstrated that reuniting with Aerith is post-OG Cloud’s goal. That’s a period of over two decades— two decades of wishing, seeking, longing in real-world time for this character. This is a huge long-term commitment for SE to make, and you can bet the devs don’t take it lightly. Again and again, once the events of the OG game have ended, Cloud is shown to desire a reunion with Aerith. This ever-present and ever-insistent theme will become very important to us later in this analysis.
(continued in part 3)

Well, Hi all! again! 4Th Wall here, I figured since I just got power back, I might as well play some catch up on both series. Hope you enjoy this episode!!
Yup, I fucked that up. This is a repost with the correct Episode number, LOL! It's been a while since I've done that.
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Benjamin smiled, watching the girls skip ahead of him. Today was a testing day of sorts for him. Unwilling to release firearms into this world haphazardly, yet unwilling to go without them as a backup; he had pulled from one of his sister’s favorite video games. He had “melted down” his bowie knife, repurposing the metal to be used in his latest creation. The final product rode on his hip like a short sword, but Ben was satisfied in the design when the vast majority of the people he passed ignored it as just another adventurer’s blade. Benjamin hoped, that with the existence of Majik, that he would be able to pass off any… peculiarities... as the realm of the supernatural.

The three of them arrived at the tailor’s establishment, and the girls were met with a customary indifference that seemed to present itself when a slave’s “master” was present. The moment Benjamin entered, the seamstress ceased to pay attention to the girls, and instead addressed him directly, “Ah, The Forgemaster’s Protégé. What can I do for you this day.” She said cooly, bowing slightly in welcome. “I’m here commission some clothing for these two, a reward for good service.” Benjamin began. It was technically true; the success of the forge had afforded him much more coin than a mere apprentice could have made. Qort had taken him on as a true partner, and Benjamin earned enough to comfortably afford to cloth his “slaves” in whatever he chose.

Some stigma’s remained however, and the seamstress seemed to glare sideways at the girls as they perused the fabrics adorning the walls. “Is that wise? A slave could lose her place with such gifts.” she asked, her polite tone barely hiding her disapproval. Benjamin sighed internally, ‘oh for fucks sake’ he groaned in his own mind before putting on facad, “I find that proper reward, afforded on the right servant can result in” he paused, projecting a smug expression and blatantly looking the girls up and down. “a profound dedication to their duties” he finished with a satisfied smile as the seamstress covered her mouth with a hand to hide a smile of her own. The gambit worked, and the Seamstress was obviously satisfied that the “Aereesen slave whores” were being properly “used”. “Ah, I understand. What did you have in mind for them.” She practically moaned back at Benjamin. ‘This hag needs a good pounding….’ Benjamin’s inner monologue threatened to crack his facade, “That’s the fun part, my good lady. It’s their choice. The surprise is half the excitement.” He chuckled.

The seamstress openly smiled at him this time before nodding and stepping over to the two girls. Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief as she seemed to treat them at least marginally more warmly. The old racist bag didn’t need to know that Benjamin was secretly building a small nest egg for his girls, or that his sending them out to do errands for him was how he was teaching them about money, value, and the application of Mathematics. She also didn’t need to know that the full Cutlery set that she had purchased last week had been made by Vi’s own hand as her first full solo commission set. Benjamin had stamped his “mark” on them, because slaves were not allowed to own anything, including their own work; but Vi had begun with raw steel and finished with one of the finest cooking knife sets he had seen in this world or his.

Benjamin settled onto a bench outside, using the excuse of wanting to enjoy the morning air to afford his girls some privacy. Now that Viola and Valtrya were eating a healthy diet, and the right calorie amount; they had blossomed into absolute bombshells. Their hair had recovered, and both sported long flowing locks that boasted a silky satin black color and texture that betrayed hints of deep royal purple. The color reminded Benjamin of one of those expensive custom car paints that changed color depending on the lighting.

Their skin recovered almost as quickly as their hair. The sickly, scabbed look was quickly replaced with the same satin quality as their hair to the touch, but with a light grey coloring that almost seemed to tease the edge of hinting at a greyish purple. A dense pattern of Small freckles of the same dark, almost royal, purple as the highlights in their hair frolicked on both girl’s cheeks, and down the sides of their necks. Because of their early lack of understanding on modestly, Ben knew that those freckles traveled much further. The sad truth was that Benjamin understood fully why Aereesen’s were the prize of slavers and brothels, and he silently prayed that he could give them enough self-worth and skill to have a better life than that, once he got them out of the Principality.

A door’s soft creaking broke Benjamin from his thoughts as the two sisters stepped out smiling, “Get everything you need?” he asked standing as the three of them departed the establishment. Val nodded vigorously, and Vi smiled as she spoke, “I think so, but I had to practically beg the woman to stop showing us lingerie… what did you tell her?” Benjamin felt his cheeks heat as he responded, “What I had to. The old hag doesn’t get enough at home. It’s not my fault that your ‘enthusiasm’ is in the forge and your studies, not between the sheets. I didn’t lie to her, I just let her draw her own conclusions, sorry.”

Vi’s eyes twinkled for a second, “Oh,” She smirked, “Thaaat’s why she broke out the silk. Some of her options were..” She blatantly bit her lip at Benjamin. “You didn’t…” He asked in shock, and Vi lifted up on her tippy toes to brush her lips against his ear, “Not telling” she purred, setting Bens senses on fire. She backed up a step, openly smirking at his beet red face. “But your expression is adorable… My Lord” She stated the last two words with a deep sultry tone, knowing that Ben couldn’t scold her in public before taking his hand, “May we visit the bazar next? Val saw some jewelry she wanted to look at.” Benjamin gave her a pointed look, that turned into a smile as she beamed at him, “Ok, sounds good. I need to pick up some food for the week.”

It was later that afternoon when the three of them left the bazar. They found Jukha waiting on the bench in front of their home. “Jukha! How are you!” Benjamin called, clasping the Orc’s hand firmly as the girls rushed inside to put up their purchases. Jukha reciprocated, if somewhat stiffly, to the strange to him gesture. “Benjamin, it is good to see you well.” His tone stopped Ben in his tracks, “What is it. Is your wife, ok?”
Jukha shook his head, “Vilora is well, but I have been tasked with finding you.” He said carefully, “The slaver, the one you dueled for those two,” he nodded to Vi and Val as they stepped back out of the building, “The Heir of The Romoregin house is here. He has lodged an official demand for satisfaction, and he brought a champion.”

Benjamin stiffened, “Another duel? You said an ‘official demand’… what happens if I refuse.” Jukha winced at Ben’s tone, “It is an archaic practice of my people, rarely remembered, and even more rarely demanded. You cannot deny a satisfaction claim, but should you prevail, no further claims can be made upon your person. I am sorry Benjamin, but if you flee or refuse, your life is forfeit; and your property goes to the claimant.” Jukha looked pointedly at Viola and Valtrya. “The young puke has put me in danger as well, if I do not deliver you and them to the duel, I can be detained. If they torture me….” Benjamin’s eyes widened before hardening in understanding. “Jukha…” He turned to find Viola standing next to him, with his musket in one arm and his ammunition bag in the other, and sighed, “Fuck”. He loaded his musket with a single roundball cartridge this time, unwilling to fire buck and ball in the town streets. He pealed the ball out of the paper wading after pouring the poweder, reaching into his haversack to retrieve a small round patch made of pillow ticking. Jukha looked on in mild fascination as Benjamin spit on the cloth patch before wrapping the ball in it and ramming the whole thing down the barrel. It wasn’t much, but it reduce windage, ensuring at least reasonable enough accuracy from the smoothbore to keep from hitting innocent bystanders. It would also virtually eliminate blow-by, upping the chamber pressure and giving him a little more velocity. “I’m ready.”

The four of them entered the small city square to be met with Qort and three Org guards. These soldiers wore different insignia that Benjamin had been taught were the mark of the capital. “Beenjaymen Shayfe” one of them butchered his name, “I am.” Ben nodded firmly, the other guard nodded, “And your two slaves, good. Has Jukha informed you of the proceedings.” Benjamin scowled, “A legalized way to attempt a revenge killing? Yea, I’ve been told.” Ben didn’t bother to hide his vitriol, “So I have to kill a motherfucker for defending myself from his father?”

“Not quite. The Heir has brought a champion. The rules are simple, all forms of combat are allowed” The first guard began as the second one began chaining the wrists of Viola and Valtrya. Benjamin began to move before thinking, only to be held back by Jukha, “Peace albino. They must do this. Fighting them will cause a forfeit.” Benjamin looked at the terrified faces of the two girls. He forced himself to calm down outwardly, but Benjamin could feel the rage building. He had worked so hard to save those two, to get them out.. now some snot nosed brat was going to try to kill him because his father didn’t know when to fuck off. Benjamin stepped out from around the guards. The “heir” was a young Durr. Ben had no frame of reference for age, but the Heir was substantially shorter, and his facial tentacles were almost mere buds. Beside him stood a crimson colossus, the same species as the Hunter he had shot saving Jukha. He was taller than that female, and was wearing plate armor, gilded in silver. He hefted a great sword of some kind and smiled openly at Benjamin. It was not a pleasant expression. “Ah, so You’re the puke I’ll be cleaning from my blade. I am Krastorin. Come here, pale one, I’ll make it quick.”

Benjamin looked him over, subtly shifting into a shooting stance but keeping his musket looking like he was resting the butt of a spear on the ground. “You look accomplished, what makes you do the bidding of the boy.” He asked, blatant scorn on his tone. The Young Durr flinched, his small tentacle buds writhing violently. “H’Dare Yee!” he bellowed, voice cracking with the strain of fury, “Aye’ll ‘ave Yee Head on Me’Wall!!”
Benjamin ignored him, focusing on the Hellirine. The man looked back at the boy with a raised eyebrow, “The young puke promised me one of those.” He pointed at Vi and Val, who had reverted to their former trembling submissive postures that Ben had met them in. “It appears that they are as well kept as claimed. I look forward to sampling them.” He leered. Benjamin looked over at the Young Durr and found his face a mixture of relief and anger. ‘Ah, lied about daddy’s slaves.’ He turned to the soldier standing next to him, “Is the duel on?” he growled.

“Combatants! Begin!” was the Soldiers response, and the crimson mercenary lifted his sword from his shoulders advancing forward with a long confident stride, “at last, let’s get this over wi..” a clap of thunder echo’d through the Feral wood, and most of the crowd cried out in surprise as Benjamin disappeared, seemingly behind a bubble of fire, and brimstone. The single round ball ignored the mercenary’s plate armor. Punching straight through as the soft lead mushroomed out into a ragged disk that measured almost an inch and a half. The mangled projectile, still travelling at almost half the speed of sound, eviscerated the chest cavity of the Mercenary before blowing a one foot wide hole out of the crimson man’s back. The exit wound missed Krastorin’s spine by an inch, but it didn’t matter. The projectile embedded itself into a post, thankfully missing any bystanders by mere inches in some cases. The Young Durr, who was standing just behind and to the side of his champion, was screaming as he pawed at the bits of pale yellow blood, bones, and fragments of internal organs now covering him from head to toe.

Benjamin handed the smoking musket to Jukha, drawing his short sword and walking over to a sputtering, choking, and coughing Krastorin. The Hellirine lay face down on the ground, having fallen that way from the momentum of his initial advance. The back of Benjamins mind was sickly amused as he remembered the old Hollywood trope of bullets throwing people backward, and a pinch of regret sparked in his soul as his opponent death rattled. He stepped up to the Heir, resting the blade against his neck, “Are we done here. Be a better man than your father and learn when to save your own life.” The Young Durr froze, staring up at him in abject terror for several moments as a puddle formed at his feet. Benjamin opened his mouth to speak again when the boy simply passed out, falling into the puddle of his own mess as his mind refused to stay conscious.

Benjamin turned to walk back towards Jukha and the girls. “Unchain them.” Benjamin’s tone could have frozen a raging forge’s inferno. To his surprise, two of the soldiers drew their weapons on him, “You need to come with us. All Touched must be registered with...” Benjamin pointed his short sword at the one talking… and pulled the trigger. The percussion revolver built into the hilt of the short sword was zero’d using a notch Benjamin cut into the crossguard, and the tip of the curved blade as a crude set of open sights. The barrel of the revolver lay along one side of the blade, and was rifled. The speaking soldier orc’s took the smaller pistol round through the forehead, exploding the back of his skull in a cone of dark green and grey mist. The exit wound showered his companion in bits of bone and brains. Benjamin’s thumb found the hammer, and four satisfying clicks echo’d in the stunned silence, “HEAR ME!” He growled, “I, am touched by the Gods. I posses the power to end any life I choose using the power of Hell itself!” ‘if I have to show them a gun, might as well throw them off the trail’ “The violence of the raging volcano obeys my very fingertips.” His revolvesword bucked a second time as another soldier orc made a move to rush him. The smaller pistol round still punched through the orcs armor and out the back, but only left him screaming on the ground. Benjamin re-cocked, and leveled his weapon at the orc holding the chains to Val and Vi. “Now, release them.” This last remaining Orc did as asked, before gathering up his screaming companion as the girls rushed to Benjamin, he pulled them close, whispering, “I’m sorry we wont be able to pick up your dresses.”

The three of them packed up that night. Qort had understood, knowing all too well what the Principality would do to acquire a Touched of Benjamins ability. “Stay safe my friend. I pray our paths cross again.” Jukha snuck them out of the village that night, using his wagon to get them to his home. They stayed a week, laying low while they planned their next move. The girls spent their time learning recipes from Jukha’s wife, and ben took the time to unwind a bit. Jukha and He went on a hunt, and Benjamin was given a run down on the flora and fauna of the Feral wood. The two of them brought back a pair of Stags, and the three women cooked them a feast.

“Dinner’s ready!!” called Viola, setting the last of the sides on the table as the dutch oven roasted meat was brought off of the stove top. It was a simple yet elegant meal. Stag, potatoes, some kind of Kale style vegetable that Benjamin had never seen before. Soon enough, everyone at the table was leaning back, as full as they could make themselves. “So, pinkskin,” Jukha asked, “Where do you plan on going. I wouldn’t mind you staying with me. I could use another hunter, but I suspect that they would notice the extra product I brought to the village.”

Benjamin Hummed, “The Maridian Combine. Qort told me that they banned slavery over a century ago, the girls have learned so much already. It would be easy to find jobs for them.” Vi and Val drooped slightly but hid it well. Jukha noticed it but said nothing. “A good choice, their boarders are well guarded, you would need to free them before you cross, or end up in a dungeon yourself.”

“Good point, I can write up a simple writ of freedom. Something I can sign and give to them.” Benjamin nodded, “I can get started on that to…” he paused as a hand fell on his. He looked to see Viola staring at him, fighting back tears, “Hey, what’s wrong. You will be free…” Jukha nodded slowly and stood. “love,” he said to Vilora, “I need some help with the livestock” The Farie met his eyes in unspoken understanding, fluttering out the front door with Jukha.

“Vi, what’s wrong.” Benjamin asked gently.

“No… go… Val… stay…” Both of them turned to Valtrya in shock. She was trembling, “I wont..leave.”

“You speak?” Benjamin looked in shock, but Viola spoke next, “Benjamin, we don’t want to leave. We want to stay, with you. I…” She paused. Ben sighed, “I want you to stay too.” He said, finally admitting it to himself, “But I can’t own you. It’s killing me that you are my property.” He reached up and wiped a tear from Vi’s eyes, “You are so much more than property. I feel evil, every day that I wake up knowing that I could do anything I wanted to you, or worse, die and have someone else hurt you for the fun of it.” Benjamin bowed his head. Viola reached out, lifting his chin to look into his eyes, “Then come with us.” She whispered as Val stood up and stepped around the table, “yes.. You, come.” She wrapped herself around Ben from the side leaning in until she was resting her head against his shoulder, “I’m… staying.. with you.” she said softly. Viola nodded, “Benjamin, how old do you think we are.”

Ben looked at her in confusion, “I have no idea, I’ve always assumed you were teenagers. 13-14 years old for Val, maybe 16 for you, but that was when you were skin and bones.” He admitted.

Viola’s eyes widened in understanding. “You did not want to bed us because you thought us children.” Benjamin nodded slowly, answering. “And forcing sex on a child is the worst kind of crime on my world”. Viola and Valtrya looked at each other, before Vi spoke. “Ben, my sister will turn one hundred and three in a fortnight. I just had my one hundred and fifteenth birthday last week.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to Bens as she kissed him passionately for a moment. “We are no children,” Viola paused as Valtrya leaned in, kissing Ben lightly on the neck, “You are not forcing us to do anything, but leave.” Viola whispered as she began to close in to a surprised Benjamin for another kiss.

The door to the cabin flew open violently, and the girls pulled back to a more modest distance. Jukha walked in, carrying a panting Vilora. “What happened.” Ben asked hurriedly, hoping he wasn’t blushing as hard as the heat on his cheeks suggested. Vilora waved a hand as Jukha set her down in her chair, “The Vin… My sisters… they reached out… They wish to meet…” The Farie gathered herself, “They also sent a warning. We must leave, tonight… hunters.”
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If you made it this far, I very much appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed the episode! If you believe I have earned it, I have a Patreon that is two episodes ahead of the free releases for this series. I hope you feel taking a look is worth it. Either way, come hang out in the comments. Everyone's welcome! I've discovered Im a bit of a "warts and all" poster, so even critical comments are welcome. Hell, You might even teach me something (it happens more than I'd like to admit).
I have heard people off and on reference Royal road, So I am going to give it another shot. I'll be adding the Royal Road link from now on. If you like reading over there, It is on the same schedule as here. I would greatly appreciate a like/review/comment if you feel so inclined. Thank you again for stopping by.
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I F(32) am going through life trying to navigate my grief. I lost my baby and my partner M(32) and I aren’t on good terms. We live together but we haven’t been talking and we haven’t been intimate since a little before his passing. It’s been challenging going through this pain of losing a child and not having my partners support. We’ve been grieving alone. Long story short we’ve have some bad arguments since his passing and a lot of guilt and blaming each other is what has caused this silent treatment from his part. But I’ve looked past all of this and have accepted that we couldn’t control what happened and that we need to find a way to try and move forgive and move forward for our toddlers sake. Anyways, I’ve been giving him space and trying to just take things day by day and being patient. Lately he’s been a bit more calm and not so angry. Of course I miss him, I haven’t been able to kiss or really even hug him since everything happened. I don’t want to lose my family. It’s hard grieving and not having the one persons support that you need. Lately I’ve just been working on myself and trying to focus on my toddler. I realized I can’t control his actions but I can control mine. I want to become a better mom and partner so that’s been my goal. I started working out, and cut my hair, also listening to more podcasts to motivate myself and learn to live with this pain. So I’ve gotten to the point where I miss my partner so much, and I’ve been wanting to have some cuddles, kisses and possibly sex but I can’t find any way to approach this without getting rejected or might it be too pushy to even try to persue this now? He’s been a lot calmer around the house lately and he doesn’t know I found out that he was watching porn a few nights ago. I’m sure he’s masturbating when I leave the house. I know my partner and he’s always been a very sexual guy. So noticing that he’s been seeking some release makes me want to try and see if we can maybe have some intimacy, even if it’s just kissing and hugging. Any advice on how to approach this? Or has anyone encountered a situation like this
TL;DR! - I haven’t been intimate with my partner since our son’s passing. He won’t talk to me and we’ve been on bad terms but I caught him watching porn and I’ve been wanting some affection, how do I approach this?

As a man, every other man I know says things like “I’m getting a hair cut” and I obviously understand what a haircut means, it’s just cutting the hair to fit a specific style they want. But sometimes I hear women talk about how they went and got their hair done. What exactly does getting hair “done” entail other than cutting?

So now I am in my 30s and never really cared too much about hair and hairstyle, luckily I still don't have any hair loss but I went to my local barber for most of my life and stuck with one hairstyle until I was in college and second style since then which relies on using hair Gel/pomade.
I am looking for someone who can actually take time to suggest what type of change I can make to hairstyle, actually cut and style hair and then suggest how to maintain it daily. Please share your suggestions.
I probably have another 5 to 10 years will lots of hair on my head so want to make most of it!

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ve (24nb) been going to therapy and recently have been talking about my mother. We’ve been discussing how I won’t tell her my address and I will tell her the next time she asks that I will not share my address due to her inability to respect boundaries in the past (four years ago I cut contact for about six months, specifically told her not to send me any mail or packages, and she did anyway.) I also brought up that she gets a light accusatory tone sometimes and I respond by talking and talking until I accept blame for the accusation. My therapist told me there’s technically no such thing as an accusatory tone and it may just be her tone, but I take it as accusatory because of the way she’s been in the past.
Admittedly, she has been somewhat better. She still makes unsolicited comments on my appearance and hasn’t sent me a video of a Catholic priest lecture in a couple months (I’m not Catholic.) Tonight I was at her house waiting for the conversation about my address, focusing on staying in a mindset where I wouldn’t fawn and give it anyways, but she never brought it up. I was silent the whole night and both my siblings and my mom brought up how quiet I was.
At the end of the night, I was sitting and my mom came up behind me and started playing with my hair (I’ve been growing it out, which I tried doing in highschool but she kind of bullied me out of it.) I don’t think I’ve touched her or been touched by her outside of hugs for several years, and this touch completely fucked my mental state up and I have no idea why. It felt like I was sent into fight or flight, I wanted to vomit, I felt my jaw lock up, the skin on the back of my neck crawling from her touch. I knew I didn’t like her, but I realized tonight that she disgusts me. I cried on and off for an hour when I got home and I’m just feeling so confused because on one hand she was terrible to me as a child but now it does seem like she’s maybe trying to be better but all of that disgust and anger is so strong and I truly don’t feel like I can change it. I don’t know if I want to put in the effort to change it.
I feel like I hate her but nothing she’s done recently has warranted such a strong feeling. She really does act semi-sweet sometimes now and I feel like maybe part of the reason she isn’t nicer now is because I’m distant. There’s so much going on in my head and I feel so confused and angry and nauseous and I want to scream or hit something and I hate what she did to get me to this point.