Episode Description

Simba leaves Kiara in charge of the Pride Lands while he, Nala, and Zazu go to Kilio Valley to attend a funeral for an old elephant friend named Amanifu who has just died. Upon learning this from Mzingo, Janja decides to take advantage of Kiara's inexperience and comes up with a plan to take over the Pride Lands. Meanwhile, Simba is nervous about performing his eulogy in front of the elephants, including Aminifu's daughter, Ma Tembo.

Song: "Duties of the King" sung by Simba and Zazu
Pros
-First off, I like the sibling dynamic in this episode, as somebody with a similarly aged older brother. Kion and Kiara's relationship has resonated with me, the way they have off days and arguments, but, obviously love each other and make it out strong in the end. I, for one, do not hate Kiara in The Lion Guard, and Kion gives her the same attitude she gives him in early episodes. I like watching their relationship go through ups and downs throughout Season 1.
-I know the opening scene, where Kiara and Kion are fighting over a tree to sharpen their claws is quite intense, because they would've probably gotten into a scuffle if Simba hadn't showed up when he did, but, that is siblings for you sometimes. I feel like anyone who's got siblings of your own can relate, at least a little bit, to that scene.
-I like the plotline of Kiara and Kion's sibling rivalry stemming from their roles in leadership. Kiara is clearly a reflection of her father, when he was a cub, which is interesting and so, she thinks that being the Future Queen is really swell and makes her the alpha, and Kion (who is no better than her) thinks that being Leader of the Lion Guard makes him more important than her. I like this mechanic in this episode. It makes me want to know if Scar felt the same way about Mufasa. I mean, Kion was obviously not resentful of Kiara, unlike Scar, but I wonder if a similar thing happened with the two brothers except, in this case, it drove Scar to insanity and wanting to murder Mufasa.
-Now let's talk about Kiara being left in charge of the Pride Lands (I mean, I do think the main conflict of the episode was Simba's fault, but we'll get to that later). So, I like the fact that Kiara is nervous about ruling the Pride Lands, even for a brief period of time. I like this because for one thing, she's still only a cub at this time, so, she's entitled to be nervous and anxious about being responsible for an entire kingdom. There's a lot of responsibility being placed on her at such a young age, but, she still remained likable, in my opinion. I do like how, in The Lion Guard, she takes her responsibility as Future Queen very seriously. I know this is unpopular to say, but, I headcanon that, as she's grown up into an older cub, she's realised that being queen won't prevent her from being herself, a concern she had at the beginning of TLK 2.
-I do empathise with Kiara, and Kion, because they are both being put into a huge responsibility of looking after the entire kingdom on their own, while all the adults are away from Pride Rock. This is still really early on in Season 1, so Kion is inexperienced as Leader of the Lion Guard, and Kiara only just started her training with Simba, in the pilot episode. I do feel bad at the fact that they have to figure everything without their parents around and I respect them for managing to work out their differences by the end of the episode.
-I really feel bad for Kiara because she gets a lot of crap from people in the TLG community, moreso than Kion does. I feel really sorry for her because people say they hate her for her attitude and that they think she's a self-righteous bitch at the start of the series, but, I don't. Even as a kid, I knew that a lot of Kiara's behaviour in this episode was down to the stress of being left in charge of whole kingdom for a few days without her parents around, while still being a cub at this point. I do really like her and it really upsets when I see people hating on her. I don't think Kiara really means to be controlling in this episode, she's just trying to do right by her father while he's gone.
-I like the fact that Kiara is really hesitant and nervous to have a huge weight on her shoulders, a role she was previously really excited to fulfil in the pilot episode. When Simba asks this of her, she's understanding feeling a lot of pressure to make him proud. I like the fact that Simba admits to her that he was also nervous about becoming king the first time. I like this because we only saw the side of him that was cocky, overconfident and optimistic about becoming king. I like the fact that she was nervous and that he decides to be upfront about it.
-Kiara still remained a likable character to me throughout this episode. I like how she starts out as nervous and how her confidence is slowly building up nicely during the episode. But, she never came off as mean-spirited, to me. Also, it becomes clear that the reason her responsibility goes to her head is because of Tiifu and Zuri's influence on her and the Lion Guard's inexperience and, in this case, plot-convenient incompetence.
-Beshte, "I'm sure she'll be a nice queen." Well, I'm glad at least one of you believes in her. I can't tell you guys how much I love Beshte, always the sweetest soul out of the group.
-Ono, "Thank you for the opportunity, my queen. And you.... err..... my Kion." That line was funnier than it had any right to be.
-Speaking of which, I thought seeing Ono in Zazu's position, temporarily for Kiara was interesting and I think was a great use of his character, outside of being a Member of the Lion Guard. I personally would've been down for more scenes like this. I think a cool send off for Ono would've been to have him be the Royal Advisor to Queen Kiara and King Kovu, in the future. I wish Ono had stayed in the Pride Lands in the series finale and had become Zazu's apprentice or something.
-Bunga, "Your majesty." {bows at Kiara}. Kiara, "Bunga, that's really not necessary." I found that whole interaction surprisingly funny. Also, strong feeling that Bunga has a huge crush on his best friend's sister at this point, and Kiara views him as her friend, nothing more.
-Kiara's plan about the Bees and the Eelands fiasco was actually very smart, and even when I saw this as a kid, I knew that she had a better idea than Kion. Her idea about moving the eelands away from bees' nests is smarter because bees obviously sting when angered. So, Kion was too proud to admit Kiara had the better idea.
-One of the funniest parts of the whole episode for me was Kion saying, "I say we move the bees". Then, the scene cuts to Kion, Beshte, Fuli and Ono running away from a swarm of bees, in terror. I obviously don't want them hurt, but, I just had to laugh because it was so predictable.
-Bunga, "What are you guys running for? Bees taste even better when they're mad!" Accurate behaviour from a honey badger. They can raid beehives without being stung due to their very thick hide and their stink sap.
-When the Lion Guard arrived back at Pride Rock covered in bee stings, if I were Kiara, I'd be laughing in Kion's face at that moment, like "Ha, ha, you were wrong. Only an idiot would decide to move a swarm of bees to a new place." But, in fairness, Kiara was right to be mad at him, in that moment, for his little screw up.
-"It wasn't a total disaster," Kion, while talking to Kiara. Kiara, looks at Fuli and Ono scratching themselves, "Really? It looks pretty total to me." I mean, she does have a point there. In this situation, Kion had everything to gain from taking her advice.
-"Admit it. I was right about the bees and you were wrong." Kion, just admit it and save yourself the embarrassment. Kiara was not being rude to him whatsoever. She was speaking nothing but facts.
-When Kiara talks to Mzingo at Pride Rock, I like the fact that the latter is clearly higher up in the frame because he's the one dominating the conversation and is also the one who manipulates Kiara. I think it's a nice touch where he creepily approaches and blackmails her.
-*laughs "Janja wants peace?" I like the fact that Kiara is clearly sceptical and she's obviously suspicious of Janja's true intentions. I like this because it doesn't make Kiara out to be seriously wayyy too gullible and silly. The fact that was she was suspicious feels more in-line with TLK 2 and makes her decision to believe Janja, partially Kion's fault. Manipulation is also a very powerful tool, especially to done on a semi-young child, like Kiara.
-I like the fact that Mufasa appears to Kion, unprompted in this episode, for the first time in the series. I love this because it feels like Mufasa saw the argument that had just gone down and was like, "Right I need to put an end to this sibling drama before it gets out of hand. I need to make Kion see the error of his ways."
-I actually love the fact that Kiara is, at least partially willing, to give Outlanders a chance for peace. It feels like a nice bit of foreshadowing for her character arc in TLK 2, where she was able to give the Outsider lions a chance to fit in.
-Kion angrily to Tiifu and Zuri, "Ugh! Some advisors you two are!" That was more hilarious than it had any right to be. Because, let's be honest, they were pretty obnoxious in this episode.
-"Get away from the Queen!!!!" I actually love the moment where Kion comes bursting in like a superhero, to his sister's aid. I also love the fact that he calls Kiara his queen, at this point, because he clearly listened to Mufasa's advice, and also because he had felt somewhat responsible for her almost being killed by Janja.
-"Oh we can fight all right!!!" So badass. I personally would've loved to see Kiara fight alongside the Lion Guard. I think it would've been cool to see her help to fight off Janja's clan. I wanted to see what she could do.
-"Six on six..... Forget it!!!!" Yeah, you better run, Janja, you don't stand a chance against all six of these heroic friends. And one of them is a bloody hippo.
-I love Kion and Kiara's closeness at the end of the episode where they make up for their uncivil, squabbling at the start. Kion finally rightfully admits that he should've taken Kiara's advice about the bees and the elands, and Kiara admits that Kion was right about Janja being nothing but trouble.
-Kion, "And I should've listened to you about the bees." Ono, "Oh, sure {rolls his eyes}. Now he admits it." Oh, Ono, you knew all along, but, we love you.
-Kiara and Kion when Simba and Nala arrive home, are really sweet. I love the fact that Kiara wants to be honest about what happened, "Ruling the Pride Lands? It went..." I absolutely love the moment where Kion decides to cover for her and admits that she'll be a great queen, this is an incredibly sweet brother and sister moment. That moment feels like a precursor to the episode "Baboons" and even later "The Trail to Udugu."
-I love the moral of this episode about "being supportive of your loved ones efforts to help, especially when they are wrong," because it applies to both Kiara and Kion in two different situations. Kion was obviously wrong to go against Kiara's advice to move the elands, but, Kiara learned that she should've been more sensitive about that whole situation. But, Kion also learned that if hadn't been so dismissive of her acting queen for a few days and given her his utmost support when she was clearly nervous about ruling the Pride Lands. If Kion and Kiara been more sensitive to each other, then, they would've been able to be in charge of the Pride Lands together instead of arguing. Also, this episode shares another moral, "Communication is key to understanding each other and a successful team." Kiara learns this after Kion saves her and she realises she was wrong about Janja, and Kion learns this when the Lion Guard get stung by bees, and even later when he realises that he was partly to blame for Kiara going into the Outlands, and that if he had been upfront with her instead of outright yelling at her and running out on her, she wouldn't have needed to be rescued. These are two important lessons for kids going through school together, or with siblings and friends.
-Also, Janja is genuinely dangerous and scary in this episode. He traps Kiara in the Outlands to use her as a bargaining chip for Simba or else he and his would eat her. They would've gotten away with it if Kion didn't jump in at the last second. Janja threatened the freaking princess of the Pride Lands! Reason number #50 why he should never be allowed enter the Pride Lands, no matter if he is starving or not, because he clearly cannot be trusted to follow the rules.
-And now I'm finally going to talk about the B-plot of the episode. It wasn't as good the A-plot, in my opinion. I did love the worldbuilding aspect of this episode where we learn that different animals in the Pride Lands have their own customs and traditions that need to be respected. I like the idea of Simba upholding a tradition and it was interesting that he was never trained for it because obviously Mufasa died before he could complete his training.
-I like the idea of Simba, Nala and Zazu going to an elephant funeral. Elephants actually have "funerals" in real life. In real life, if a member of their herd dies, the elephants will crowd around them ceremoniously to pay tribute and they'll collect twigs and branches to cover the fallen elephant to pay tribute, out of respect for them. I love the way its portrayed as a ceremonial funeral in The Lion Guard and that Simba is upholding a tradition. I love the way he has to say it in Elephantese because the idea of the elephants' having a language barrier is a cool worldbuilding element.
-Aminifu is a cool worldbuilding character too who, we're told, played a big part in the Pride Lands' revival and bringing the circle of life into balance. I like to headcanon we was a childhood friend of Mufasa and Scar, and the rest of the Royal Family, and how he go on to be a good friend to Simba, Nala and the rest of Simba's pride. I like to think Aminifu was responsible for all the animals in the kingdom, similar to the Lion Guard, and how his daughter fills that role in Season 2.
-The Elephant Funeral scene looks cool because of how emotional and how heart-wrenching it looks from afar. I like the addition of all the elephants mourning in the background. It was a little dark this early on the series. One elephant hugs Aminifu and looks like their going to cry, another elephant and her calf are crying, while hugging each other.
-I like how you can see shades of Mufasa's death through Simba's voice in this episode, such as, "And now Aminifu has completely his part of the circle of life," and "Well, time for the tribute." I like this because I like to think Simba is obviously nervous about performing a eulogy in front of elephants, but, probably also a bit upset and mourning over his own father's death. I mean, in fairness, he never to give his father a proper send off when he died, so, this probably hit even harder for him.
-I like how this is Zazu's first main character moment in the series and how much of a hard worker and a loyal he is to Simba and Nala, his whole motivation is just to help Simba learn Elephantese properly so he can impress Ma Tembo's herd, during the tribute.
-Nala is such a sweetheart and a loving partner to Simba. I love her because she's pretty much exactly how she was in the original film. She's his loving and supportive wife, and I love the way he gives him moral support when he gets nervous. I love her snarky jab at her husband early on the episode too, by the way, "Worried about Kiara? Or are you worried about your tribute?"
-The song "Duties of the King" was decent enough, I suppose. I mean, it's not my favourite song in the series and I wouldn't be reaching for it. But, I don't hate it. I like the more cutesy, "miscellaneous" animals shown in the background, like the chimpanzees and the porcupines. Plus, it's nice to know that Simba doesn't just sit on his ass all day and that he does important jobs, like he assigns gazelles to their grazing grounds and songbirds to their trees. I love that he presides over aardvark wedding rites and then we saw Muhanga and Muhangus kissing behind some grass. So, I wonder if Simba did in fact, preside over their wedding before this episode. Overall, I like the cute scenes of this song and I like the fact that Simba actually has important stuff to do. I can see why kids would dance around to this song because it's very bouncy and energetic. The beat is fine, but, I don't like Rob Lowe's singing voice as Simba. I think they should've used Cam Clarke all along for The Lion Guard, who actually voices Mwoga the vulture. I don't mind the beat, but, I don't think Simba and Zazu are the best singers, at least in this series, that is. I'll give it a 5/10 because there are worse songs than it.
-Ma Tembo is such a sweetheart in this episode and I love her. She doesn't have a major role in the series as of yet, but, it's still clear in this episode that she has a great relationship with Simba and the Royal Family. I'm glad she had a bigger part in Season 2. I also love her voice actress, Lynette DuPree (R.I.P) and I think she's one of the best in the series. I love how she makes her sound genuinely sad during the procession and then a little bittersweet during the "poop" scene. Also, shout out to the moment where she wraps her trunk around Simba.
-Also, call me childish if you want to, but I actually love it when Simba actually says that Aminifu had "poop on him". I mean, it just gets me because that's not something you'd say at a funeral and the fact that the elephants took it really well and actually laughed hysterically is genuinely hilarious. Like, even his daughter admitted that he had always had faeces on him. It was funny because of how much Simba feels like he screwed up, but, then, the elephants had a really good sense of humour about it.
-Also, this episode makes me wish that at least someone went to the Elephant Graveyard during this series. Maybe Aminifu's funeral could've been there and Simba and Nala would've had to go the place where they almost got killed as cubs or maybe even Kion and the Lion Guard would have to go there. It's such a missed opportunity. Or if Janja went there then maybe he could've learn that Scar betrayed his ancestors long before the events of The Lion Guard. But, speaking of the Elephant Graveyard, I bet Ma Tembo's herd are going to wait for Aminifu to decompose and then carry his remains to the Graveyard because that's something that elephants do if a member of their herd dies outside of their designated area. I like to think that that's what happened after this episode. I just wish they had the funeral in the Elephant Graveyard and we got to see Simba and Nala go there as adults, but, I'm not going to fault this episode for not going in this direction.
-Zazu, "I'm not sure Sire, but, I think you just said he had.... {quietly} poop on him...." Try not to judge me too harshly, but, I just find poop jokes hilarious for some reason, as an adult.
Cons
-First off, I don't like how Kion and Kiara were both dumbed down for the sake of plot-convenience for much of this episode. I get that they're still kids, but, Kion's plans to move the bees instead of the elands was the most stupid idea I've seen in the series. The literally just had an episode where Kion calls out his best friend, Bunga, for making bad decisions and now it's Kion who made a really dumb decision. I mean, that should be bee rescue 101, don't try to move a swarm of bees, they do not like, and the fact that Kiara spells it out for them before this scene, "....if the elands step on the beehives, they'll get stung.... there could be chaos." She's speaking nothing but facts. Kion should've realised that they shouldn't have tried to aggravate the bees. I don't like the fact that he acts cocky and dismissive towards Kiara, when she was so obviously right. I hate the way Kion just randomly disobeys her out of spite, even though she gave him advice. However, Kiara was dumb to go into the Outlands alone to see Janja. I mean, I admire her willingness to give strangers a chance for peace, but the fact that she had her suspicions about him and she already knew what he was like, in accordance to the pilot episode, wouldn't she see reason to bring Tiifu and Zuri along for backup.
-I don't like how this episode seems to indicate that Simba favours his daughter over his son. Between the pilot episode and this episode, it seems like he sees Kion as a just a Child Soldier and doesn't actually love him equally. I know it's obviously not through, but, I don't like how he gives off an impression that he has favourites. Parents don't have favourites, unless you're an evil lioness named Zira and you give your youngest son everything, but then treat your eldest son like dirt. But, Simba isn't like that. I don't like how he says "I have faith in you," in such a way that gives off Parental Favouritism vibes. I'm really glad he doesn't have this in any of the later episodes.
-I hate the way the writers tried to do the Kion/Scar and Kiara/Mufasa parallels in this episode. I just don't like it being used as a plot device. The series makes a point to say that Kion is nothing like Scar and how he would never take his anger out on his family and friends. I don't mind Kiara being like her grandfather because he was a great king in his day, but, I don't like how the writers made Kion and Kiara have a similar relationship that led to Mufasa's fall. Also, one thing I loathed early on in the series is the fanart of Kion brutally murdering Kiara in rage, just like Scar murdered Mufasa. I just hate it so much because it would happen since Kiara and Kion have a caring relationship, where they do bicker like siblings tend to do, but, they would never turn on each other.
-I don't like the part where Kiara and Kion were outright malicious towards each other. All the lion cubs in this episode were quite mean-spirited at times. Kion and Kiara for obviously constantly fighting and being horrible instead of admitting to being wrong in certain situations, like the bees and the elands and the Janja situation. Kion is too cocky and overconfident about the bees, for my liking, and Kiara allows Tiifu and Zuri's influence to get her head and ends up believing she's always right. Kion only adds fuel to the fire by yelling at Kiara and then callously running out her instead of being upfront with her about Janja's true intentions. I get that siblings don't always see eye-to-eye on things, but, I don't like Kion and Kiara constantly being scumbags to each other and not giving things a second thought until the end. Mufasa had to be the one to put an end to the "sibling drama".
-Tiifu and Zuri were the worst of all, in my opinion, and I think all of you guys will agree. They were pretty annoying and obnoxious in this episode. They were very disrespectful and condescending towards Kion just because he's not a queen, and they caused Kiara to be disrespectful right back. Kiara doesn't strike me as disrespectful without these two around. I'm glad she actually stands up to them in later episodes rather than being influenced by them. Zuri is my least favourite of the two of them, she comes off as super mean-spirited and bitchy, and Tiifu comes off as domineering and rude. I don't like the way they talk down and belittle Kion and how they throw shade at anyone who believes Kiara is wrong. They act like stereotypical Mean Girls, but, the annoying kind. Plus, they weren't very good friends to Kiara for letting her go into the Outlands alone without a second thought about the fact that it might be dangerous. That doesn't sound like Tiifu. Remember how in the pilot, she was deeply concerned when Kiara was trapped by the gazelles. But, here, the stakes are much higher, and she's up against a much bigger threat and Tiifu and Zuri don't seem to give a damn. I'm glad Kion called them out on this behaviour before leaving. What I wouldn't give for Tiifu and Zuri to be captured by Janja instead, not to get eaten, but just so they can see how dangerous it is. It's episodes like this that make me wonder are they her actual best friends or are they just using her to hang out with the Royal Family. Kiara deserves better than these self-entitled bitches, in my opinion.
-I feel like Kiara should've been the main focus of this episode instead of Kion. I know this only S1 Ep4, but, I still think this should've been a Kiara focused episode, rather than a brothesister episode. I would've been interested to see Kiara take centre stage and the Lion Guard take a back seat. Then, we could've seen more of Kiara's apprehension about becoming Queen and her trying to make all the decisions without Simba around to guide her, and most importantly, see her trying to decide what sort of Queen she wants to be. I would've loved if Kion tried to be supportive of her and tries to help her watch over the entire kingdom, instead of saying "Screw you Kiara, go get herself killed if you want to and my friends hate you." I would've liked to see that explored and maybe have them be a little bit annoyed at each other, but without making them really malicious. Also, have Tiifu and Zuri be in their annoying phase and for Kiara to realise that her "so-called" friends are not being very good friends to her, and have her ditch those bitches at the end of the episode. Then, have Kiara and Kion make some big decision together that really develops their relationship, in the future.
-I don't like how Simba is portrayed for much of this episode. I know, he was mourning the loss of an old friend, but I really don't like angry Simba moments in this series. I don't like the fact that all Zazu was doing was trying to help him practice his eulogy and Simba gets frustrated and roars in his face. I hate it when he throws tantrums, as a full-grown adult lion. I hate the idea of Simba regressing more into his evil uncle as of this series. I know he's not, but, I hate it when acts like it. Zazu, bless him, was just trying to help and Simba took out his rage on him. I do not like it when Zazu has to be the butt of all the jokes. I don't like Simba being a headstrong asshole in The Lion Guard.
-I also don't want to point fingers, but, if Simba hadn't left his semi-young daughter to rule over an entire kingdom for a few days, none of the conflict would've happened if he left Kion and Kiara with a responsible adult, like Rafiki or Basi or someone, just to keep an eye on things. I wouldn't leave kids their age home alone for even a day or more than an afternoon. If they had an adult in Pride Rock with them, the arguing wouldn't have spiralled out of control the way that it did. Also, this makes no sense with Simba's character in TLK 2. This is the same guy who sheltered his daughter the whole time she was growing up and wouldn't even let her explore more than 2ft from Pride Rock or even leave Pride Rock, at another point in the film. In this episode, she's still a cub and he's okay with leaving her to look after an entire kingdom for days on end! Yes, he did show hesitation, but that was after he and Nala had already left the Pride Lands. This episode fails to show just how okay he was with leaving his preteen daughter in charge of the kingdom for a few days with no adult supervision. Also, this episode and the series fails to explain how he regressed back into his over-protective state of mind in the second half of TLK 2.
-A minor complaint I have. This is a very minor nitpick. But, the distance between Kilio Valley and the Pride Lands that was established in this episode is very confusing. This episode implies that the elephants live approximately a two or three day walk from the Pride Lands, enough for Simba to outside of the kingdom, when in other episodes it's actually a part of the Pride Lands, just barely on the outskirts of the kingdom. I also don't get why the writers made it seem like Simba, Nala and Zazu took like a day or less to arrive at the elephants' funeral. There's no indication that they were travelling at night or that they ever slept. However, I understand, the writers just wanted to show some of journey and then transition to the day of the funeral, so I won't fault it to harshly. However, I do wish that the distance between Kilio Valley and the Pride Lands was consistent. This episode makes it seem like that whenever Kion and his friends have to help the elephants, it would take them a whole day to arrive on the scene. But, that's just a small criticism I had with this episode.
Overall
So, overall, I did always thoroughly enjoy this episode. Even as a kid, I could not stand the fact that Kiara got a lot of hate in the Lion Guard Fandom and that loads of people blamed her, just her, for a lot of the drama in this episode. Kion and Kiara shared 50% of the blame each and I think that Kiara is overhated. Anyways, I did like Kion and Kiara interacting like real siblings and slowly learning how to work together, it felt a little bit like a prequel to "Baboons" and "The Trail to Udugu", in that way. I like the lesson about learning to communicate well and to listen to one another and that they were both in the right and wrong, at different points. I liked the loving sibling dynamic at the end and the friendship with all the Lion Guard. I like the sense of family between Simba, Nala, Kiara and Kion at the end. Janja poses as a genuinely threat to Kiara. I think the humour was pretty solid as well and the educational value. I liked the worldbuilding aspect and the elephants' relationship with the lions. Aminifu is a cool headcanon character. The only parts I didn't like were, Tiifu and Zuri were unbearably annoying in this episode and weren't very good friends to Kiara. I don't like them being stereotypical Middle School girls. I hate their disrespect and belittling towards Kion and their toxic influence on Kiara. I didn't like Kiara and Kion's maliciousness at the start or the fact that the writers tried to draw Mufasa/Scar parallels. I don't like angry Simba at all in this series. I hate the fact that he gives off Parental Favouritism vibes in this episode. I don't like the fact that Kion and Kiara were hit with the idiot stick in this episode. Simba and Tiifu and Zuri are kind of at fault for all the drama in this episode. The song was just decent, not the best not the worst. I really don't like arrogant Kion. However, this episode has a lot of love to it clearly. Overall, I'll give this episode a 6.75/10, it's not perfect, but I think it deserves more love.

Part 1
I ended up buying a house at the edge of this town.... before i knew all the bullshit that was goin' on around here. Got bored and went down to the local sheriff Jack and asked about an opening, Didn't even fill out an application, got the job on the spot. For the first few months it was the usual, speeding tickets, drunk and disorderly, normal shit right? Well... let the fuckery commence....
I had been a deputy for 7 months when one of the local farmers called in and reported he had some animals killed last night and wanted someone to come out to his house. John Nixon was a 60 year old farmer who lived by himself. His wife passed away years ago, but he never remarried and they never had kids. We met one day at the local tackle shop. Me being new in town, he took me to some of the good fishin' spots. The man was a huge military history buff and would always ask about my time in. I thought I knew him personally, so i took the call.
As I rolled up to the gate on his property, I saw John standing at the gate with a shotgun. " Hey john, can I ask why you are standing there with that cannon in your hands?" No response, he just stared at me. "John! put that damn shotgun down!!" I yelled. Its like he snapped to out of a trance. "Mason, i need you to come round the back side of the house to the barn, now!" he snapped.
"OK, OK, let me get outta the car and grab some gear." I said opening the car door. While i was grabbing my gear, John was standing there with his eyes scanning the tree line. "Come on mason! you need to see this!" He said heading towards the back. I closed the trunk and started walking over in his direction.
"So what the hell is going on that's got you walking around here with that damn bazooka?" No response, he just keeps walking and scanning the tree line. We finally got to the back of his house where the barn is. It looked like a horror movie in that pen.
"What the fuck happened here!?!" I said covering my mouth. There were pieces of chickens and goats everywhere, a few pigs looked like they had been filleted. "Its back mason, after all these years" John mumbled. "John what the hell are you talking about? what did this?" I asked.
John took his eyes off the tree line and looked me dead in the face. "Your not from here so you dont know." "Know what man? what are you saying?" I asked getting annoyed now. "Years ago this same thing happened to a few guys I know. All of their livestock had been killed. Not killed and eatin', just killed. It got people 'round here up in arms. Well, a few of us got together and decieded we were gonna look for whatever did it" he said. "What the hell are you telling me john?" I interrupted. "There were four of us. We were young, thought we were bullet proof. We went out into the woods one morning, determined to find the damn thing that had been killing our animals.
Tommy was the first to say something. "Hey, did you guys hear that?". The rest of us didnt hear a thing, so we kept moving. We got about three miles deep into the old pine forest at the edge of town. Will was the next to say something, "WHAT THE FUCK?!" he yelled out while looking down at the mud. We ran over to where he was standing to find him wide eyed. "I dont know what the actual fuck did this, but we..we need to go and I mean right fucking now!!!" he said pointing. This track was huge, at least 14 inches long with huge claws. Gerald spoke up "Let's fuckin' go guys!!".
We started back tracking out of the area, when we were stopped cold in our tracks, we all heard it this time. It was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same damn time. A sickening, shrieking laugh was coming from all around us. We panicked and starting runnin'. As soon as we did that, whatever was making that noise centered as if right behind us, and it was coming fast, ungodly fast" John said eyeing the remains of a chicken that was torn apart.
"We were about a mile from the trucks when I heard a thud and a scream, when i looked back Gerald wasn't there. Will and tommy were right behind me, terror all over their faces. Tommy pulled his pistol and started shooting backwards. Only one shot rang out before something tackled him and Will. I stopped, raising my rifle, but they had already been torn apart. It was seconds, and they were in shreds" John said.
"Mason, what i saw standing over their shredded bodies has haunted me since then. The fucking thing was nine feet tall, shaped like a man, but not. Its skin, or or scales was a mixture of black and grey and it looked slimy. It looked like a damn bodybuilder with hugh claw like hands. Its head was massive, with what looked like horns coming from the jaw to around the chin. Its eyes, glowed bright green in the middle of the fucking day, and it had a mouth full of fucked up jagged teeth." He said lowering his head.
"I jus.. just stood there, waitng for my turn. This thing paced back and fourth, staring at me, with this creepy damn smile. It looked down at Will and Tommy, then it looked back up at me. My heart almost stopped when it pointed and shook its head at me. It started making that shrieking laugh as it grabbed what was left of my friends in each giant claw and walked off into the woods, still fucking laughing. I fell to my knees as it vanished into the trees."
I stood there, thinking he lost his damn mind. John had stopped talking, he had this way off look in his eyes. "John..., john.., JOHN!!" his eyes snapped back to mine. "So what are you telling me? A nine foot creature with claws killed your friends and animals?!" I half mocked. "Yea.... thats what i'm telling you. Its back for me, i know it." "What makes you think it was this thing you say killed your friends? It could have been coyotes" I asked " I know mason, i heard that same horrible shrieking laugh in the woods behind the barn last night."
Now I’ve heard some real bullshit in my time, especially during my time in the contracting field... But this was the most out there shit I had ever heard.
"Alright, alright... let's just take a big ass step backwards. I need to wrap my head around all of this." I said takin a deep breath. John laid the shotgun down to his side. "I'm telling you the truth mason. i'm too old and tired to lie about shit" he said shrugging. I looked deep into this man’s eyes. When I did, I saw something that told me this was the absolute truth as he knew it. " You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you... but fuck man... this is hard to swallow. I need proof John, that's the way this works." A look of frustration washed over his weathered face.
"Proof?! you want proof huh? follow me" John groaned.
He started walking towards the tress behind the barn. As we got closer to the trees, I started to smell rusty copper. Blood I thought out loud. John raised his shotgun as we walked closer. That damn gun had to be illegal, but this wasn’t the time for that. Him raising that gun made me a lil' uneasy, so I pulled my Glock 9mm out and flipped the safety off.
John owned about 90 acres, most of it unkept. A lot of the land was behind the barn which butted up to a state forest. We took about 12 steps into the wood line when the smell of death hit me like a brick. "I'm taking you to where I heard the noise coming from last night... your PROOF is out there Mason" He said with a slight edge to it.
We walked almost a hundred yards into the woods when john stopped in front of a tree. It looked twisted and warped all the way to its top. I stepped around John and saw huge claw marks cut deep all the way around the base of the tree, it's hard to even call it that. "What the hell is this?" I said looking up. "This is a marker, it's territory starts here" John replied. I looked at john like he was crazy, which at this point I thought he was. "This thing travels throughout these woods. I've found five more of these trees in our town" he said putting a hand on the tree.
"This isn’t telling me anything John, just that you've got a weird ass tree on your property" I said back to him. "Do you hear that?" So we could move this mess forward, I stopped talking and just listened. I hadn't noticed that during our walk into the woods it had got quiet, and I mean not one sound. " What the hell? where did all the animals go?" I asked looking around. "They're scared mason... you should be too. Let's get back to the house."
We turned and started making our way out of the woods. We were damn near the tree line when I heard a snap. I turned around, gun raised to see a black streak dart back deeper into the woods. "What the fuck was that?!" All John said was "we need to leave, now!" We turned and started sprinting the rest of the way out of the woods. I was surprised at how fast john was for an old man. We got all the way back to my patrol car. "I don't know what that was, but I don't think you should stay here tonight John. Pack some stuff and come to my place" I said pointing my gun at the trees. John just let out a sigh as if frustrated and defeated.
"You weren't listenin'. The pine forest, these trees, it’s all connected. I’m talkin’ bout before this area was even inhabited by native peoples. This fucking thing has been around for a very long time. I have been looking into this since that day, I had to find out what it was and if it can be killed" he tried to explain. The whole time john was talking I had my eyes and weapon pointed at the trees. " You can put that down mason, it just wanted you to know it's here" He said.
"John, I to need process this shit. I've never seen or heard anything like this and to be straight with you, I’m at a loss right now" I said opening the trunk. "I get it, I get it. The sheriff jack was a deputy back then. When you see him... tell him I said the dark is here..." And with that, he just turned his back and walked back into his house not saying another word.
I got back in the car and sat there. Looking at the treeline. After a few minutes I went back to the station. I must've walked in with that universal what the fuck look on my face, because Cathy the clerk asked what was wrong with me. I told her I was fine and asked if she had seen the sheriff? "Yeah, he is in the gun cage. Are you sure you’re ok Mason?" She asked again.
"Yeah, I'm good, just need to talk to Jack." I started walking towards the back of the building, when Jack came around the corner. "Hey mason, what's up?" he says walking up to me. "I just got back from John's house." The look on his face completely changed. "He had a bunch of animals killed last night. It looked like a slaughterhouse. He told me to tell you the dark was back?" I told him noticing his reaction.
Jack stiffened up and not saying a word gestured for me to follow him towards the back security door. We headed towards the back and out the door. Jack had stopped to make sure the door was secure then pointed at his truck and said "get in."
After getting in he looked over "I need some coffee" then started the truck up and headed west out of the parking lot towards the coffee shop. He ordered a large black coffee with extra sugar then asked if I wanted one. "I'll take a small black, no sugar." We pulled out and headed east back past the station. We ended up driving towards the edge of the county. "What's going on and why are we heading way the hell out here?" I looked at jack and said.
Jack just took a long sip of his coffee then placed it back in the holder.
After a long breath "You want some answers about what happened at Johns' house... I’m sure he told you about a few other things about this town... well we're gonna go get you some answers" He said looking at a black sedan passing in the opposite direction. "Aight so, like you mason, I’m not from here either. I was a trooper in New York for a few years before I came down here. I resigned after a call to an old couple’s house" He said reaching for his cup. "My partner Jake and I responded to what was thought to be an animal attack. We were the first on the scene, having been a couple miles away lookin' for speeders.
When we rolled up an older woman came running over to the cruiser. She had a panicked look on her face and just kept repeating "they're dead, they're dead!!" We hopped out and sat her in the back of the car then asked what happened. "I...I... came over to talk to gloria and... and I saw the door open. I walked in yelling her and Alan’s name, but they didn't answer... I found them upstairs... it's horrible!!" She said sobbing. Jake and I drew our weapons and started making the move inside. Like the witness said the front door was open, so we moved in. It smelled like sulfur and blood when we entered. We started clearing rooms. The first floor was clear, so we made our way up the steps.
The smell was overpowering now. We cleared the bathroom, and the two smaller rooms were clear also. The door to the master bedroom was slightly opened. I motioned to Jake and we hit the door.... it looked like some movie shit!! I kid you not. Jake turned and went back into the hallway and threw up. I stepped into the room and... listen I had never seen anything like this before" Jack stammered out.
"These two people were in shreds on the bed, they're insides had been yanked out and thrown around the fucking room. After looking at the bodies I noticed these huge claw marks in the wall, I’m talking if Andre the giant had had a Krueger glove. I stepped back out of the room and radioed to dispatch that we needed more units. I walked back to the front door where Jake was standing hunched over looking out of it.
Parked outside were 3 black SUVs and a black sedan. I counted 11 men dressed in black tactical military gear, some with a type of rifle I had never seen before, but you could tell it was large caliber. The rest with SMG weapons. When i looked over towards the patrol car, one of the men had the door opened and was talking to the witness. He saw us and started our way. He was dressed in all black too and carried what looked like a desert eagle in a chest holster.
When he got closer I got a better look at him. He looked to be in his late 40's with salt and pepper colored hair and a big ass scar that ran down the right side of his face. He got about ten feet from the steps "We appreciate the assistance, but you are no longer needed" He said in deep voice. As he is saying this, one of the other guys escorts the witness out of our car and into the back of that sedan.
The guy started walking away from us "Who are you? and what the fuck is going on?" I yelled at him. He turned with a look on his face that you only see in movies then took a few steps towards us. "Your command has been informed and you are to leave now!" He said raising his hand up towards that holstered pistol. Jake looked at me and shook his head "fuck it, let's go, let them deal with that mess upstairs" he said still coughing then started heading towards the car. I followed him down the steps... looking this guy up and down, checking out the vehicles... for anything that might tell me who we were dealing with.
The only thing I saw was on the assholes uniform... there was a patch on his shoulder. It was an all-black diamond with a weird looking black M in the middle on it. The guy stared us down until we were in the car driving away. He had that pistol in his hand and the other men starting moving into the house. Jake and I didn’t say a word until the radio squawked and we were told to head back to the barracks.
When we got there, we were told to report to the troop commander’s office. Commander Thompson was sitting in his office along with a man in a nice 2-piece suit. The man in the suit stood there quietly while Thompson told us that we never responded to any call out to that farmhouse, and that this was the first and only time he would say it. With that, he dismissed us and and we walked out. The shit didn’t sit well with me, and I ended up resigning a few months later.
I came down here and then that shit in the woods happened. I was on the scene, I saw the claw marks. They looked just like the ones in New York, and the same damn trucks showed up with different personnel. I knew just to shut up and walk away, and after making that choice I have had a pretty good career here." he finished grabbing his cup out of the holder.
My brain was in overdrive. I was just about to completely question bomb jack when he said, "We're here." He pulled off onto this overgrown driveway and drove for about a quarter mile. We pulled up to an old two-story house that looked like it was in ruins... but the lights were on. "Where the hell are we?" I asked As the last word of that question left my mouth, the front door of the house opened... standing in the doorway was a old man, dressed in weathered black clothing. Jack leaned over to me "You wanted answers... well.... there they are."

Here is an article I recently published on my Substack. If you'd rather read (or listen to an audio version) it outside of Reddit, you can do so here.
Why jump rope isn’t already touted as a leading running drill tool is completely beyond me. But then again…
I'm by no means an "experienced runner"—having started running in 2021 at the age of 34. So, at the time of this writing, about 3 years.
Despite this, I managed to silver-medal my age group in my first race ever.
And it was a 10k. And I was wearing barefoot-shoes.
And I had only been running before that race for about 3 months.
How the heck did I manage to pull this off?
The answer eluded me for a while. Then I remembered—ah, I’ve been jumping rope nearly every day for 2 years.
But how do those connect?
But first, why the heck would some guy start jumping rope at age 32?
About 2 years before I started running, I took up jump rope really just as a fun outdoor hobby.
Even though I was pretty inactive and a bit overweight, that’s not the reason I started skippin’.
One day, I came across some footage of boxer Lulu Hawton doing some jump rope training.
In addition to her seemingly effortless rope handling skills and rhythmic footwork, what caught my eye was a giant grin that spread across her face about 45 seconds into the video. While she was probably skipping to warm up for a match or a training session, something was abundantly clear.
She was having a blast.
And this was from a prize fighter! None of the usual boxer mean-mugging—she looked more like a kid on a carousel.
So, after buying a $10 jump rope on Amazon, I took to the driveway in my swim trunks (yes, I was so inactive, I didn’t own gym shorts).
And…whoo, did I suck.
After a few months of making puddles of sweat in my driveway as well as wheezing sounds so loud that I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t whistle EMS, I eventually got pretty decent at it.
And I lost about 45 pounds in 6 months—probably also from making some lifestyle changes merely to make jump rope less of a slog. Not the original plan, but hey, not too shabby.
After about a year, I found myself constructively critiquing other people’s beginner jump rope videos.

• “Unlock your boxer skip. Then you’ll be able to skip forever without getting tired.”
• “Here’s how to do Double-Unders, though they’re overrated.”
• “You’re skipping like it hurts. Relax and skip easy. Smile every once in a while and you’ll feel it all over.”

But how did that turn into running?
Though jumping rope is inherently enjoyable, 30-minute skipping sessions of staring at the wall without something in your headphones can be a bit drab.
One fateful day, about 2 years into being student of the jump rope, I began listening to the book Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall.
Even before I got to the end of the book, running—just like jump rope— sounded fun**.**
Yeah, I know that sounds counterintuitive—unless you’ve read the book.
“I knew aerobic exercise was a powerful antidepressant, but I hadn’t realized it could be so profoundly mood stabilizing and — I hate to use the word — meditative. If you don’t have answers to your problems after a four-hour run, you ain’t getting them.”
Ok, ok—I’ll bite.
I proceeded to dive into all of the normal “Couch to 5k” running programs I could find and took my jump rope to a nearby park with a 1k walking path—sprinkling in running between jump rope sessions.
But something wasn’t adding up.
There was a lot of advice about walk-running to build endurance until one could run a block, two blocks, a mile.
Not to brag, but I wasn’t experiencing most beginner snags.
**“Ah, I know why—**I did most of my newbie wind-sucking two years ago!”
This isn’t to say I wasn’t still periodically sucking wind but after two years of consistent boxer skips and double-unders, getting gassed felt like part of the fun and not a medical emergency.
I also felt much springier than the average beginning runner—able to run for miles all over the city in the most minimal of footwear.
And so, I tried my hand at my first race—a donut-themed 10k. And silvered in my age group.
(Ok, there was only two of us…but my time was still respectable. 😂)
Running became an amazingly freeing activity, like getting my driver’s license for my legs.
But I still didn’t understand why running was coming easier to me than the average newcomer.
Digging still deeper, I unearthed another exciting revelation—this time from multi-decade sub-3-hour Boston Marathon runner and one of the foremost running experts on the planet, Dr. Mark Cucuzzella.
“Running with a jump rope is also an amazingly simple drill for posture, balance, and rhythm.”
In other words—form. Overall technique.
Digging a little keeper and experimenting on myself, I discovered just how similar proper running technique and proper jump rope technique were.
Both require:

• An upright, chest-leading, elbows-back, joint-stacked posture
• A soft mid-foot landing directly under your pelvis
• A quick loading and unloading of “leg springs” from your tendons and ligaments to reduce “stickiness” and wasted energy
• A proper supination (roll out) followed by a quick pronation (roll in) of the feet to help launch one’s body
• A steady core without dropping hips from side to side to reduce energy “leakage”

And so many other commonalities. The list unraveled before me on every run.
And like running, without proper technique, jumping rope just doesn’t work—though the consequences are different.
For a jump roper, due to the lower impact, the risk of injury is quite minimal.
Most newbie rope slingers will report sore calves, slightly tender Achilles tendons, and the odd shin splint if they go full Rocky at it. No need to worry, though—most of these injuries see themselves out as the skipper becomes more experienced.
However, for runners, the injury story is more severe.
The next time you’re at a park with a good path, take a seat on a bench and watch the runners. See if you can spot folks reaching far out in front of them with straightened legs—smashing heels into the pavement.
This style of running results in everything from screaming knees, plantar fasciitis, lower back pain, to hips issues.
But why do all of these occur to new runners, but rarely to new jump ropers?
Most new runners commit a major physiological no-no when they begin their running journey: they treat running like fast, aggressive, airborne walking.
“Well, what is it supposed to be?”
Synchronized jumping.
Simply put, proper running is nothing more than a series of coordinated single leg jumps through space with each landing compressing the springs for the next stride.
To compare this synchronized jumping to the aggressive airborne walking of heel-led running, you can test these in just a few seconds.
Step 1: Stand up.
Step 2: Kick off your shoes.
Step 3: Jump up and down three times.
How did you land?
Probably on your mid-foot, knee bent slightly, with your weight stacked above your pelvis.
And did you use your compressed “leg springs” to launch you into the following two jumps?
Oddly enough, if you were to add a jump rope to this, you would on your way to spinning side swings like Lulu Hawton.
If you were to take this same technique one foot at a time moving forward, you would be running in a way that increases speed, preserves stamina (springs!), and drastically decreases your likelihood of injury.
Let’s try the same test with a few tweaks.
This time, jump, but land on your heels.
Your knees probably remained fairly straight and you felt the impact in your ankles, knees, hips, and possibly even your lower back.
Now, imagine attempting to jump rope this way.
It simply doesn’t work.
Not only would there be no second jump due to the lack of spring but the pain would stop you in your tracks—even in cushioned shoes.
But if jump rope technique and proper running technique are nearly identical, what are aggressive heel landings doing in running?
While a jump roper landing on their heels would resemble Frankenstein’s monster in an express lane to an orthopedist, this is how many people perform the aggressive airborne walk—aka, a heel-striking, over-striding run.
But why do we run this way? Well, our shoes let us get away with it.
Thick heel cushioning and a bit of forward momentum do a great job of masking the pain of repeated blows against every joint up the chain—for a while, anyway. Eventually, the chickens come home to roost in the form of stress fractures, meniscus tears, plantar fasciitis, “runner’s knee,” IT-band syndrome, and more.
Not to brag (and maybe to knock on some wood), I have never experienced any of these injuries in my three years of running.
Is this because I’m some kind of running genius with all of the cheat codes? Haha, I wish! It’s simply sheer luck that I started out with jumping rope before running—an activity that shares the same injury-preventing techniques.
So, are the shoes totally to blame? No.
It is possible to run with proper form in shoes with raised, cushioned heels. But it’s not as easy.
When your heel is totally cushioned, you will be able to run with a heel strike in the same way you can hit your head against a brick wall while wearing a football helmet. And in both instances, it will eventually become less about the forces outside of the foam and more about the forces inside the cushion against each other that do the most damage.
“So, how can getting a jump rope help me become a better runner?”
Jump rope is a tremendous training tool for runners for the same reason why running barefoot can also be helpful—the feedback is immediate.
Though running with inefficient and injurious form is possible, the feedback from doing so isn’t so immediate. When it comes to jumping rope, however, you won’t get through too many skips if you don’t learn to utilize the springs in your legs. The rope doesn’t pull punches.
So, get a rope and get started.
If you’re new to jump rope, I would recommend acquiring two pieces of equipment.
Firstly, find a jump rope with a little bit, but not too much, weight to it. The weight will help you feel the position of the rope during it’s entire rotation and remain in better sync with your wrist spins
My favorite rope for this purpose is a 7mm PVC model called the Hererope, which costs a whopping $15. If you find this to be too thick or heavy, a cheap 5mm PVC model will work as well.
Secondly, to protect your rope and provide a nice jumping surface, I would recommend a large foam-rubber exercise mat. My favorite is a massive 78” mat for $32—which is probably the cheapest jump rope mat you will find.
When it comes to footwear, barefoot is ideal. This will help strengthen and mobilize your feet—including your likely overly-supported neglected arches.
And just how does one begin to jump rope?

• Keep a tall posture—imagining a string pulling you up from the crown of your head.
• Your chest should open, elbows back, hands about a fist’s width from your pockets.
• Jump from the balls of your feet, only high enough to clear the rope. When landing, let the skin of your heels “kiss” the floor—touching without taking on weight.
• Keep your knees slightly bent, using every landing to load your springs for the next take-off.
• Keep the cadence quick to maximize spring recoil. To help, listen to a song that’s at about 160 beats per minute, such as the song “Hey Ya” by Outkast (or a song of similar tempo) to get a feel for the speed for skipping rope. (For running, many recommend using “Rock Lobster” by the B-52s for cadence tempo reference.)

Start with short seasons hopping with both feet—maybe 30 seconds on, 30 seconds rest. Aim for minimal muscular activation, instead, using the recoil of your tendons and ligaments for suspension and launch as much as possible.
From jumping with both feet, move onto learning an alternating leg bounce—essentially a jog skip. Right, left, right, left—all while keeping an imaginary belt level with the horizon.
By now, you’re essentially running in place with an extremely efficient technique.
Now, apply your jump rope skills to your running!
This is going to seem quite bizarre, but it is possible (and even beneficial) to take your jump rope for a run.

• Start skipping rope on a road or path with the alternating leg bounce. Remember to keep your elbows back, shoulders relaxed, head pulled up as if tugged skyward by a string from your crown and your imaginary belt level with the horizon.
• Then, as though leaning forward just enough to give someone a kiss or have an imaginary umbilical cord lightly tugged, begin to jump rope forward.
• Remember to continue to land and load on your mid-foot—aiming to keep your weight under your pelvis just like skipping rope. Landing on your heels will likely snag the rope and keep your foot on the ground too long.
• As you proceed with this, remember how it feels—the quick foot turnover, the posture, the recoil in your leg springs, the core stability, and the lightness of it.
• In the middle of doing this, simply toss the handles behind you and keep running as though it was still there—still pretending to spin the handles.
• At a comfortable stopping point, run back to your rope—now using your hands in a wood-chop motion to counter balance your leg bounces while keeping your pelvis (imaginary belt) level and stable.

And there you have it!
You may find it quite helpful to return to this drill once or twice a week. Also if you find your form slipping a bit or becoming slugging mid-run, feel free to skip imaginary rope to try to correct your technique mid-stride. It will restore lightness and springiness to your running.
I still find myself bringing my wrists to my pockets and spinning imaginary jump rope handles if I feel my technique is collapsing a bit or if my running is becoming less springy.
And remember, most importantly—have fun. 👍
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Introduction to Chapter 8 ("Heralded by Columns of Smoke: Pee Dee River to Fayetteville, North Carolina"):
"Once across the Pee Dee River, General Sherman's army marched in the direction of Fayetteville.
"Resistance from Confederate cavalry under Generals Hampton, Butler and Wheeler was steady and continuous. Wheeler attacked at Rockingham on March 7, and Hampton surprised and captured Kilpatrick's camp on March 10. But Sherman's army marched steadily on.
"General Joseph E. Johnston, with headquarters at Fayetteville, was following General Lee's first instruction, 'Concentrate all available forces.' He moved his headquarters to Raleigh and directed the assembling of his army to Smithfield.
"Eighty-four years earlier, in January of 1781, North Carolina had suffered another march by an invading army. Lord Cornwallis and his army followed almost the same route on their way to Wilmington. This army had come three thousand miles to put down 'a rebellion'; and to pursue retreating 'rebels' through a wild and thinly scattered country. His army had passed through Cross Creek, which was now called Fayetteville.
"On March 11, General Sherman and his army entered this town. 'We have swept the country well,' he reported. 'The men and animals are in fine condition.'"
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"Miss Alice Campbell was President of the Fayetteville Knitting Society when Colonel A. H. Hickenlooper, of Sherman's army, chose her home for his five-day sojourn. Bummers also visited her."
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"'Sherman, with his hordes of depraved and lawless men, came upon us like swarms of bees, bringing sorrow and desolation in their pathway. For days we had been expecting them, and our loved boys in grey had been passing through in squads, looking ragged and hungry. We gave them food and clothing, especially shoes and socks, for many of them were bare-footed. The enemy seemed to be pouring in by every road that led to our doomed little town. Our Cavalry were contending every step, firing and falling back, covering the retreat of our gallant little band, Hardee's forces, with General Wade Hampton, Butler, and others -- the scene in our town baffled description, all was consternation and dismay. In less time than I can write this, Sherman's army was in possession of our once peaceful, quiet homes. Every yard and every house was teeming with the bummers, who went into our homes -- no place was sacred; they even went into our trunks and bureau draws, stealing everything they could find; our entire premises were ransacked and plundered, so there was nothing left for us to eat, but perhaps a little meal and peas. Chickens, and in fact all poultry was shot down and taken off with all else. We all knew our silver, jewelry and all valuables would fall into their hands, so many women hid them in such places as they thought would never be found ....
''They went into homes that were beautiful, rolled elegant pianos into the yard with valuable furniture, china, cut glass, and everything that was dear to the heart, even old family portraits, and chopped them up with axes -- rolled barrels of flour and molasses into the parlors, and poured out their contents on beautiful velvet carpets, in many cases set fire to lovely homes and burned them to the ground, and even took some of our old citizens and hanged them until life was nearly extinct, to force them to tell where their money was hidden; when alas! they had none to hide. They burned our factories, and we had a number of them, also many large warehouses, filled with homespun, and dwellings, banks, stores and other buildings, so that the nights were made hideous with dense smoke and firelight in every direction. The crowning point to this terrible nightmare of destruction was the burning and battering down of our beautiful and grandly magnificent Arsenal, which was our pride, and the showplace of our town.
''On our vacant lot behind our home .... were a number of Confederate prisoners who had been captured by Sherman's army, and placed there under guard. They numbered about one hundred, I think. They were hatless and shoeless and ragged ....'
"One of General Howard's young officers chose to stay in the home of Sally Hawthorne whose father and uncle owned two large cotton mills in Fayetteville. General Howard appropriated one of her uncle's houses and his men camped in the surrounding fields and grounds."For five days, Sally, her mother who 'refused to leave her room,' her father, and a houseful of young brothers and sisters and servants were under strict orders from the officers of invasion.
"'Never will I forget,' said the little girl, Sally, whose story follows."
--------------------------------------------
"'Those last days were busy ones for General Sherman and his staff. The beautiful arsenal was destroyed and, as it happened, several private residences also caught fire and burned down, no help being given to save them, and the helpless owners rescued little, thankful to escape with their lives. Also the office of the town paper was blown up, as the editor was an especially obnoxious person in the eyes of the invading army, having waged a bitter fight against the North, and as his office was in the centre of the business part of town, more buildings were burned. (2) Then came the last day of the occupation; the troops were gathering and horses and supplies were being moved. All horses found there were taken along and many in the surrounding country were rounded up. Then there were the warehouses of cotton and rosin. The cotton was brought out, the barrels of rosin piled on them, and all set afire in the street. If houses caught, they burned, and that was all; many did. So a pall of black smoke hung over everything and the people were in a sad state of excitement and nervous exhaustion. As many houses were without a man to help or advise, the men of the family having been killed or being still in the army, the women and children were alone with the servants. The servants, with very few exceptions, proved true to their trust; they had been left to take care of the mistress and children in the master's absence, and though much excited, and sometimes frightened, they looked after the household faithfully. Of course there were some foolish and giddy young men and women who followed the army as it moved on from place to place, but they were the exception, not the rule ....'
"'No spot seemed safe from Sherman's bummers, but homes in the country or suburbs usually suffered more keenly than those in a town or city. The experiences of an unidentified woman who lived near Fayetteville were shared by many neighbors who were visited by the men from Sherman's army."
---------------------------------------------
<< Fayetteville, N.C., March 22, 1865 >>
".... Sherman has gone and terrible has been the storm that has swept over us with his coming and going. They deliberately shot two of our citizens -- murdered them in cold blood -- one of them a Mr. Murphy, a wounded soldier, Confederate States Army. They hung up three others and one lady, merely letting them down just in time to save life, in order to make them tell where their valuables were concealed; and they whipped -- stripped and cowhided --several good and well known citizens for the same purpose.
"There was no place, no chamber, trunk, drawer, desk, garret, closet or cellar that was private to their unholy eyes. Their rude hands spared nothing but our lives, and those they would have taken but they knew that therein they would accomplish the death of a few helpless women and children -- they would not in the least degree break or bend the spirit of our people. Squad after squad unceasingly came and went and tramped through the halls and rooms of our house day and night during the entire stay of the army.'
"At our house they killed every chicken, goose, turkey, cow, calf and every living thing, even to our pet dog. They carried off our wagons, carriage and horses, and broke up our buggy, wheelbarrow, garden implements, axes, hatchets, hammers, saws, and burned the fences. Our smokehouse and pantry, that a few days ago were well stored with bacon, lard, flour, dried fruit, meal, pickles, preserves, etc., now contain nothing whatever except a few pounds of meal and flour and five pounds of bacon. They took from old men, women and children alike, every garment of wearing apparel save what we had on, not even sparing the napkins of infants! Blankets, sheets, quilts, &c., such as it did not suit them to take away they tore to pieces before our eyes. After destroying everything we had, and taking from us every morsel of food (save the pittance I have mentioned), one of these barbarians had to add insult to injury by asking me 'what you (I) would live upon now?' I replied, 'Upon patriotism; I will exist upon the love of my country as long as life will last, and then I will die as firm in that love as the everlasting hills.
''Oh,' says he, ' but we shall soon subjugate the rebellion, and you will then have no country to love.
''Never!' I interrupted, 'never! you and your blood-handed countrymen may make the whole of this beautiful land one vast graveyard but its people will never be subjugated. Every man, woman and child of us will sleep quietly in honourable graves, but we will never live dishonourable lives .....'"
"When Sherman Came: Southern Women and the 'Great March'" by Katharine M. Jones (1964). Chapter 8: "Heralded by Columns of Smoke: Pee Dee River to Fayetteville, North Carolina." New York: The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc. Pages 273-286.

Introduction to Chapter 8 ("Heralded by Columns of Smoke: Pee Dee River to Fayetteville, North Carolina"):
"Once across the Pee Dee River, General Sherman's army marched in the direction of Fayetteville.
"Resistance from Confederate cavalry under Generals Hampton, Butler and Wheeler was steady and continuous. Wheeler attacked at Rockingham on March 7, and Hampton surprised and captured Kilpatrick's camp on March 10. But Sherman's army marched steadily on.
"General Joseph E. Johnston, with headquarters at Fayetteville, was following General Lee's first instruction, 'Concentrate all available forces.' He moved his headquarters to Raleigh and directed the assembling of his army to Smithfield.
"Eighty-four years earlier, in January of 1781, North Carolina had suffered another march by an invading army. Lord Cornwallis and his army followed almost the same route on their way to Wilmington. This army had come three thousand miles to put down 'a rebellion'; and to pursue retreating 'rebels' through a wild and thinly scattered country. His army had passed through Cross Creek, which was now called Fayetteville.

"On March 11, General Sherman and his army entered this town. 'We have swept the country well,' he reported. 'The men and animals are in fine condition.'"

"Miss Alice Campbell was President of the Fayetteville Knitting Society when Colonel A. H. Hickenlooper, of Sherman's army, chose her home for his five-day sojourn. Bummers also visited her."
"'Sherman, with his hordes of depraved and lawless men, came upon us like swarms of bees, bringing sorrow and desolation in their pathway. For days we had been expecting them, and our loved boys in grey had been passing through in squads, looking ragged and hungry. We gave them food and clothing, especially shoes and socks, for many of them were bare-footed. The enemy seemed to be pouring in by every road that led to our doomed little town. Our Cavalry were contending every step, firing and falling back, covering the retreat of our gallant little band, Hardee's forces, with General Wade Hampton, Butler, and others -- the scene in our town baffled description, all was consternation and dismay. In less time than I can write this, Sherman's army was in possession of our once peaceful, quiet homes. Every yard and every house was teeming with the bummers, who went into our homes -- no place was sacred; they even went into our trunks and bureau draws, stealing everything they could find; our entire premises were ransacked and plundered, so there was nothing left for us to eat, but perhaps a little meal and peas. Chickens, and in fact all poultry was shot down and taken off with all else. We all knew our silver, jewelry and all valuables would fall into their hands, so many women hid them in such places as they thought would never be found ....
''They went into homes that were beautiful, rolled elegant pianos into the yard with valuable furniture, china, cut glass, and everything that was dear to the heart, even old family portraits, and chopped them up with axes -- rolled barrels of flour and molasses into the parlors, and poured out their contents on beautiful velvet carpets, in many cases set fire to lovely homes and burned them to the ground, and even took some of our old citizens and hanged them until life was nearly extinct, to force them to tell where their money was hidden; when alas! they had none to hide. They burned our factories, and we had a number of them, also many large warehouses, filled with homespun, and dwellings, banks, stores and other buildings, so that the nights were made hideous with dense smoke and firelight in every direction. The crowning point to this terrible nightmare of destruction was the burning and battering down of our beautiful and grandly magnificent Arsenal, which was our pride, and the showplace of our town.
''On our vacant lot behind our home .... were a number of Confederate prisoners who had been captured by Sherman's army, and placed there under guard. They numbered about one hundred, I think. They were hatless and shoeless and ragged ....'
"One of General Howard's young officers chose to stay in the home of Sally Hawthorne whose father and uncle owned two large cotton mills in Fayetteville. General Howard appropriated one of her uncle's houses and his men camped in the surrounding fields and grounds."For five days, Sally, her mother who 'refused to leave her room,' her father, and a houseful of young brothers and sisters and servants were under strict orders from the officers of invasion.
"'Never will I forget,' said the little girl, Sally, whose story follows."
--------------------------------------------
"'Those last days were busy ones for General Sherman and his staff. The beautiful arsenal was destroyed and, as it happened, several private residences also caught fire and burned down, no help being given to save them, and the helpless owners rescued little, thankful to escape with their lives. Also the office of the town paper was blown up, as the editor was an especially obnoxious person in the eyes of the invading army, having waged a bitter fight against the North, and as his office was in the centre of the business part of town, more buildings were burned. (2) Then came the last day of the occupation; the troops were gathering and horses and supplies were being moved. All horses found there were taken along and many in the surrounding country were rounded up. Then there were the warehouses of cotton and rosin. The cotton was brought out, the barrels of rosin piled on them, and all set afire in the street. If houses caught, they burned, and that was all; many did. So a pall of black smoke hung over everything and the people were in a sad state of excitement and nervous exhaustion. As many houses were without a man to help or advise, the men of the family having been killed or being still in the army, the women and children were alone with the servants. The servants, with very few exceptions, proved true to their trust; they had been left to take care of the mistress and children in the master's absence, and though much excited, and sometimes frightened, they looked after the household faithfully. Of course there were some foolish and giddy young men and women who followed the army as it moved on from place to place, but they were the exception, not the rule ....'
"'No spot seemed safe from Sherman's bummers, but homes in the country or suburbs usually suffered more keenly than those in a town or city. The experiences of an unidentified woman who lived near Fayetteville were shared by many neighbors who were visited by the men from Sherman's army."
---------------------------------------------
<< Fayetteville, N.C., March 22, 1865 >>
".... Sherman has gone and terrible has been the storm that has swept over us with his coming and going. They deliberately shot two of our citizens -- murdered them in cold blood -- one of them a Mr. Murphy, a wounded soldier, Confederate States Army. They hung up three others and one lady, merely letting them down just in time to save life, in order to make them tell where their valuables were concealed; and they whipped -- stripped and cowhided --several good and well known citizens for the same purpose.
"There was no place, no chamber, trunk, drawer, desk, garret, closet or cellar that was private to their unholy eyes. Their rude hands spared nothing but our lives, and those they would have taken but they knew that therein they would accomplish the death of a few helpless women and children -- they would not in the least degree break or bend the spirit of our people. Squad after squad unceasingly came and went and tramped through the halls and rooms of our house day and night during the entire stay of the army.'
"At our house they killed every chicken, goose, turkey, cow, calf and every living thing, even to our pet dog. They carried off our wagons, carriage and horses, and broke up our buggy, wheelbarrow, garden implements, axes, hatchets, hammers, saws, and burned the fences. Our smokehouse and pantry, that a few days ago were well stored with bacon, lard, flour, dried fruit, meal, pickles, preserves, etc., now contain nothing whatever except a few pounds of meal and flour and five pounds of bacon. They took from old men, women and children alike, every garment of wearing apparel save what we had on, not even sparing the napkins of infants! Blankets, sheets, quilts, &c., such as it did not suit them to take away they tore to pieces before our eyes. After destroying everything we had, and taking from us every morsel of food (save the pittance I have mentioned), one of these barbarians had to add insult to injury by asking me 'what you (I) would live upon now?' I replied, 'Upon patriotism; I will exist upon the love of my country as long as life will last, and then I will die as firm in that love as the everlasting hills.
''Oh,' says he, ' but we shall soon subjugate the rebellion, and you will then have no country to love.
''Never!' I interrupted, 'never! you and your blood-handed countrymen may make the whole of this beautiful land one vast graveyard but its people will never be subjugated. Every man, woman and child of us will sleep quietly in honourable graves, but we will never live dishonourable lives .....'"
"When Sherman Came: Southern Women and the 'Great March'" by Katharine M. Jones (1964). Chapter 8: "Heralded by Columns of Smoke: Pee Dee River to Fayetteville, North Carolina." New York: The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc. Pages 273-286.

I returned after only playing for a few weeks up to level 50-60 in 2020 .Last month the Fallout show prompted me to try 76 again and it feels like a far different experience now! I started a new character and through a great deal of effort (and advice from this sub, Discord and in-game players!) I've learned a few things that new players especially may find helpful. Anyone is free to add on or correct me in the comments. I hope these help!
1. Camps
a. Don't worry about placing your camp in a prime location like Whitesprings or near the Wayward. Find a spot you love the scenery of. I have 3 camps in wildly different places and I get consistent flow of low and high level players.
b. Do two items not want to overlap? Go through the Free Statesain quests in the mire until you unlock the flame trap. You can place it to destroy your own camp items, place new items near, under, or through the broken items, then repair everything and they'll merge together.
c. Want junk items to clutter your home?

• Make sure you have a pressure plate. You unlock one by obtaining the power connectors plan.
• Place the pressure plate on a flat surface. You can use a foundation or deck. I recommend doing so on an empty space in your camp to avoid any complications.
• When you've placed the plate, select and place it again to drop the button. You can also stand on it yourself or use a mannequin! Any method works.
• Place the item you want to merge another item into on the plate, then place the item you want to merge into it on top. Make the top item is exactly where you want it to go!
• Start selecting and placing the bottom object and the top object will begin to merge down! Stop once it's at the right level.
• If you use the chessboard (obtained from the current season) you can place junk, aid, and other various items on the board and clip it down, letting you add clutter to your room!

d. Make sure your vendor is easy to find. Having a nicely decorated spot that doesn't hide your vendor at the front of your camp sure beats having to explore a box labyrinth to find it!
2. Vendor Stuff
a. Sometimes a vet will donate stuff to you, or into a donation box, but please don't beg or run around trying to offer trades. The more you pester someone the less help you'll get!
b. When I'm vendor hopping (jumping to camps then swapping sessions to shop) I check the inventory of the camp first and on occasion the level of the player the camp belongs to. If see weapons and guns with no legendary effects I tend to pass up the camp, but sometimes I need weapons to scrap for mods. Make sure you have a clean but sizable variety of items!
c. This is a big one for you newer dwellers: Ultracite plans (Mr. Handy buzz saws, Mole Miner Gauntlets, and ugh, revolver ivory grips) are near worthless. Most players have dozens of them. If you don't have them, buy them for 10-100 caps a piece and learn them. Expect most camps you visit to be selling them.
d. See someone selling certain apparel and plans for high prices? Check Fed76 to see an approximate (if sometimes wrong) rarity and value. You'll eventually be doing events and dailies that give you those items often.
e. If you managed to get an item easily and you can repeatedly get it so can everyone else. Don't charge thousands of caps for Blossom Tea recipes, you probably won't sell them!
3. Builds
a. Don't stress too much about having an optimal build! Find a preferred weapon type early and focus on getting its main perks, secondary perks that help improve your performance with said weapon, and make sure you get at least 5 in intelligence so you can swap between crafting perks when needed! At 50, 100, 150, 200 and so on, make sure you pick legendary perks to equip! They help you expand and empower your build.
b. Bloodied and full health builds are incredibly strong compared to others, but you don't have to follow the meta to have fun. Whatever you're most comfy playing is what I personally wanna see you do over trying to turn a few rounds to kill something to 2-3 shots. Have fun!
c. At level 25, you can use a Punch Card machine at a camp or train station (Whitesprings mall too, other hubs) to respec your SPECIAL. Only your special though. You need the perk cards you want already picked through leveling to swap them out. You also get a second load out you can swap to. You can have a second combat build or do like I do and create a crafting/building build that lets me collect resources and make whatever I need too much easier.
4. General
a. If you join an event, there's a 5-6 minute countdown timer until the event starts. Don't start the event until more people have time to join! When an event pops up, I usually have to return to my camp to offload items, get my perks set up, and prepare. This goes for many others!
b. If you're joining events at a low level, it's okay! I can't personally carry a whole team of level 20-somethings through Eviction Notice, but if there's a sizeable group of big kids, we'll don't mind helping you out! Just at least try to complete non-combat objectives. On top of this tag (hit enemies at least once) so you get XP credit and access to their loot when they die. Legendary enemies will drop loot anyways, so you don't have to tag them!
c. If you see an item in a vendor set at 40k, the person isn't being greedy. It's a safeguard against an old bug that would let players steal entire stash inventories for low prices. Although I do have a preserved pie (not rare or valuable either) set at 40k as well in case someone wants to offload caps.
d. If you're like a friend of mine who loves building camps, make sure to be active in events and do your quests! Most quests give you plans, and events do too. Some dailies and events give you treasury notes you can turn into bullion. You'll end up having 3 merchants that sell previous season items, useful items, and some atom shop items for bullion!
e. Fusion Core charger, Mirelurk Steamer, Cement Truck, Vintage Water Cooler, Mothman/Butterfly sanctuary, and basically collection I recommend getting for your camp. A few of these can be bought with bullion so keep up the collection of treasury notes!
f. Early on, try to unlock expedition at the Whitesprings Refuge. You can run Tax Evasion in Atlantic City. It's relatively easy and quick. It gives you legendary weapons, legendary modules, caps, ammo and a big chunk of XP! Once a week playing Tax Evasion also rewards you with one of the stamp plans you can get from Giuseppe in the Refuge.

Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for the amazing universe!
l Prologue l Previous l Next l
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Memory transcription subject: Kalsim, Captain, United Federation Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: December 30th, 2136
It became harder and harder to remember why we came in the first place when the simple process of landing on the ground was tantamount to stepping back into the past.
So many of the sensations granted by the asteroid sanctuary, the smells,the sights, the sounds, were so hauntingly familiar. Of flying from treetop to treetop, seeing my non sapient kin fly free of the burden of galactic existence. Of fruits and berries picked right from the stem, carrying with them flavors that bordered on ecstasy. The calls and cries of a nature beaten down time and time again, but still managed to stand back up on its own two legs every single time.
So much of it was familiar, yet so much of it wasn't.
"Kelum, do you recognize that?" referring to the foreign call sounding off in the distance.
He was still trying to process his surroundings, beak poised catch several insects. "Uh...no, I don't."
I turned in the direction of its source. "Neither do I."
"What about that bird from earlier?"
The one that flew by the viewport? "Didn't recognize that one either."
"Shit then." Kelum slowly returned to guard mode as he began sweeping his rifle over the foliage. "Your the big history guy here, I'm relying on you. What does it mean that you don't know?"
"Well, maybe call it a gap in my knowledge..." my attention was caught by a strange cluster of berries perched on a nearby bush. Collected in bunches, the fruits were oblong, almost cylindrical, orange with black spots across the skin. The aroma was sweet and tangy, something I knew several officers on the Lyakuda would love to use as an air freshener. And it was entirely unrecognizable.
Yet some base instinct inside of me said that it belonged. That it all belonged. That the ferns and grasses adn the strange noises that seemed foreign to my home were in fact an integral part of this one. There was song being played that I couldn't quiet yet hear, but I knew was there. Whether it was one that I would enjoy was still up for debate.
"Captain?"
"Wuh?" I spun around to see Kelum checking me with a look of concern.
"You kinda zoned out there for a sec. Are you alright?"
"Sorry, I was just thinking." I stepped back from the bush and into the clearing. "I...don't know what to make of this. This place..."
Kelum shrugged. "Couldn't tell you either cap. I'm just along for the ride at this point."
"All I need you to do is to keep that gun raised, just in case." Some part of me said that it would be unnecessary. After all, the Federation wiped out any native species that posed even the slightest threat to a krakotl. And by all means, this place seemed like Nishtal. But then again...
A sharp cry grabbed the silence and violently broke it over its knee. More like a wail, piercing in its effect, little needles in our eardrums that seemed to stab more and more as the seconds dragged along. The pitch never faltered, even as the cry let the background jungle settle back into its normal rhythm. I looked over to see Kelum taking deep breaths, before I realized I was too.
"Cap, what the fuck was that?" For the first time since we arrived, tendrils of genuine fear seemed to creep into Kelum's voice. At the very least, he was never letting go of that rifle ever again.
"I don't know, I never heard that before either."
"Well I need you to start knowing right fucking now, cause I don't like that shit, not one bit."
"Neither do I, but we need to remain calm. Now's not the time to start acting like Sivkit," another awful wail echoed in the further distance, "so keep that rifle up."
Kelum didn't need to be told twice. "Maybe we shouldn't stick around. Maybe we've seen everything we've needed to see."
Some part of me agreed with him. You didn't need to be a prey to not be comfortable sharing a space with whatever made that sound. And I don't think that's all this place has in store for us. For better and for worse...
"We saw those buildings. We were just in that observation room. This place is more than just a sanctuary. We need to keep going."
Kelum raised a talon in argument, faltered, then sighed. "If I die here, I'm gonna fucking kill you cap."
That somehow raised a chuckle out of me. "Glad to see your still you."
"You drag me to the gallows, least you can do is let me get the last laugh in." Kelum pushed past me and began sifting through the undergrowth. "I'll lead. I think the town was this way."
Directions, thankfully, weren't going to be an issue. Despite its gargantuan size, the sanctuary appeared to have a pretty simple layout. A giant circle, with the town at the center, surrounded on all sides by thick jungle. All we had to do was walk forward. If only if it was that simple.
I did manage to recognize many of the plants that composed the flora, only due to their absence on the Nishtal I knew. The undergrowth there was absolutely sparse in comparison to here, mostly thanks to the Federation's anti predator efforts. Without natural balances to keep them in check, the native herbivores of Nishtal went wild, stripping the ground level nearly down to the very soil itself. If not for our geoengineering tech, the planet would've suffered an ecological collapse that would've made the Cradle look like hiccup in comparison.
This place seemed to suffer no such issues. Great for the local ecosystem, terrible for us. For not only was it hot, not only was it humid, we had to push through vine and bramble so thick it was nearly impossible to squeeze through. It didn't help that the we seemed to be heading down a slope, so the atmosphere only got thicker as we descended further. It came to the point where I almost considered stripping off my vest so I wouldn't die of heatstroke on the spot. Thankfully we came across a small clearing, which gave us the opportunity to catch our breaths.
"How close do you think we are?" I asked between pulls of impossibly humid air.
"Don't know, but we have to be close." Kelum looked up to the 'sky', where the 'sun' had really reached its zenith. "Hard to tell, but we're definitely making progress."
"Stars above, whatever this is must be worth it."
"Better fucking be. Not dying of thirst on some secret asteroid zoo run by...fuck I don't know. You said you thought it was someone up high who contacted you?"
"Yeah, but that was just a confident guess."
He chuckled. "Maybe this is just his private resort or something. They definitely have the money to hollow out an asteroid. Maybe there will be a pool and a bar on the other side of this bush."
I had to admit, the possibility was funny. "If this was just a roundabout way for Nikonus to invite me over for a drink, I swear to the stars above I'll glass Aafa myself."
Kelum laughed. "Glad to hear your in a good mood cap."
"I'm not."
He stood up, ready to get on the move again. "At least you know what a joke is. Did you know I used to work for Jerulim? Head so far up his ass he forgot what-"
The rustle from a nearby bush cut off Kelum's admiration of our ambassador. He trained the rifle on the source, talon itching to let the weapon bark. The pistol in my holster gained a newfound presence as something began to emerge from within the shadows.
"Alright then, come at me you...oh."
The creature that caused us so much worry turned out to be a small lizard, scales verdant, barely the length of my wing. It crawled from underneath the bush and across the dark earth of the clearing. It took a moment to regard us with two beady side facing eyes, before it began on its way once more.
Kelum lowered the rifle, and began breathing once again. "Damn, little buddy there gave me a-"
Before he had a chance to finish, a rush of air came from behind, and a flash of green and gold plucked the lizard off the ground right in front of our eyes. Before we had a chance to fully process what just happened, the bird was away, propelling itself skyward, the unfortunate lizard grasped firmly in its talons.
We stared dumbly as the...predator ascended, then leveled out, before finally disappearing behind the canopy. Kelum went to say something several times, but each attempt only seemed to point his rifle closer and closer to the ground. Finally, he turned to face me directly, his face the farthest point from comprehension it could possibly go.
"Cap, did that..." he didn't need to finish his sentence. I was still struggling to construe it, but we both saw the same thing.
"Yes, it did."
Kelum nodded his head, before turning it back to the sky. "It did..."
As the shock of the lizard being hunted wore off, I managed to have some thoughts on the situation. This place is definitely not the Nishtal I know. The Federation would never let a bird like that exist in any form besides ash. Yet here it was, in a facility no doubt constructed by the Federation. Is that what the note writer wanted us to see?
"Cap?" I turned to see Kelum once again wear that worried expression. "Any ideas?"
"I...don't know. Maybe this is...some sort of facility to study predators? An isolated environment, far from any inhabited planet, where they won't pose any danger?"
Kelum sighed. "I think that's the best we got right now. But that still doesn't explain the town."
"No, it doesn't." At this point, I was worried that the distant collection of buildings we saw would only serve to raise even more questions. Who lives there? More krakotl? kolshians? Is it empty? But standing around wouldn't answer any questions. It'll kill us, given everything we've seen so far. "Kelum, we have to keep moving."
"Yeah, your right, but with all this..." He paused, before looking at me, then himself. "Are we stupid?"
"Uh...what do you mean."
"Cap, we're birds."
"Yes, but..."
"...oh..."
We had become so enamored with our surroundings that we completely forgot the fact that we could fly.
"Yeah, oh." Kelum slung his rifle over his shoulders, and extended his wings out to their full length. "Hopefully we can just fly right over all of this shit."
"Good thinking, wish we thought of-" Another rustle caught my attention, this time from the nearest tree. In the shadowed canopy far above, I could just barely make out something slinking among the branches.
Earth and debris began to swirl as Kelum went airborne. "Something wrong Cap?"
"Nothing, it's just..." Another branch moved, then fell entirely still. Out of all things, why does this seem so...
And then all at once, days spent at the academy flooded back. Memories of illegal histories and textbooks downloaded over the internet, of countless nights spent secretly learning my peoples true history, of why the Federation even considered us prey in the first place.
Oh no.
"Kelum, KELUM!"
"Cap, wha-"
My yell was enough for Kelum to falter, just enough so that the blur that leapt out of the tree missed him by a feathers width. It landed on a trunk opposite to me, claws sharper than an Arxurs digging into the bark. Its earthen fur, which camouflaged it amidst the foliage, now stood on its ends. A growl gurgled from between its barred teeth, and four forward facing eyes trained directly on me.
For a moment we stared each other down, as we both processed the fact that we were seeing specters. My breath caught, my wings were shaking, and I couldn't focus. Partly out of fear, partly out of the impossibility of the whole situation.
Your supposed to be dead. The Federation killed you, they killed ALL of you.
But it didn't care much for the Federation. It only cared about me. Because it was the predator, and I was now its prey.
It launched off the trunk, almost defying gravity as it crossed the gap at a nearly imperceptible speed. I tried to dodge out of the way, but I only managed halfway before an unfathomable pain flashed across my chest and sent my spinning into the earth.
Something warm and sticky filled the space between my vest and chest as my vision faded in and out. Loud pops sounded off one after another, fully killing the already injured silence. That terrible wail once again echoed distantly, cut off by another pop, and the calm returned once again. Shadows invaded the corners of my vision, threatening to overtake everything. As the false sun dispapeared behind Kelum, consciousness finally slipped away.
The pain was the first thing to greet me, followed by the contradiction of the relatively cool air. The battle between them, the pounding agony and the soothing cold, was what awoke me from my imposed slumber.
Fluttering my eyes met we with large splotches of grey and gold, spattered over my vision like spilled buckets of paint. It took several moments for everything to gain defintion, while another spot of blue went back and forth across my sight.
K...Kelum?
Something I did caught his attention, for he stopped in his tracks and immediately came to my side.
"Captain....Cap...can you hear me?"
"I...Kelum?"
"Yeah, yeah, Cap, it's me. It's Kelum."
"Kelum..."
Kelum was standing over me, fatigue dragging at his features. His talons, his wings, his vest, all of him was smeared with violet. Looking behind him revealed that we were in some sort of cave, orange light cascading through the distant entrance. The rock reflected it all, granting the scene an almost...magmatic appearence. Like everything was going to melt right on top of us and burn us alive. My chest already felt much that way anyways.
"Stars above, your awake. I thought you weren't gonna make it."
I managed to look down to see that I was entirely naked, spare for the fithly fabrics wrapped tightly around my chest. They, along with the feathers surrounding it, was also stained a pugent violet.
"Kelum," a cough sent bolts of pain running across my chest.
"Take it easy, Cap, take it easy." Kelum pressed a talon on my shoulder to keep me from gettiing up. "It got you pretty good. You lost a lot of blood."
"Wha...what happened." My memory was still fuzzy, no more defined than my vision mere moments ago. All that was there were feelings, of fear, pain, confusion, and in some small note, even awe.
"That...that thing, it almost got me. If you hadn't had called out, I...fuck, that fall would've done most of the work." Kelum's brevity was all but gone, leaving behind a bloodied, anxious wreck. "And then it pounced on you, got you across the chest. There was so much blood, I thought you were going to..." He trailed off as he considered the possibility. It was still a possibility.
"Hey," I managed weakly. "I'm still here. It hasn't got me yet."
Kelum managed to regain some of his composure. "I...had to use your vest as a bandage. I don't know how long it'll hold, but it's stopped the bleeding for now."
I looked down at my chest again. Somewhere beneath the tattered remains of my uniform laid a gash that nearly ended my life. There was a momentary urge to peel back the fabric to see how bad it was, but that would only hasten things at that point.
"Kelum...if I don't make it..."
"Cap, don't say that."
"Kelum, it's my job as a captain to realistically assess the situation we find ourselves in. And the fact is that I can't fly. I don't even know if I can walk. Odds are that more of those Dakquo are roaming around out there, along with stars know what else. If this," I pointed to my bandage, "doesn't get me, everything else will."
"Cap..." Kelum didn't want to accept it, but I could see that he knew it was true. I was living on borrowed time.
"Kelum, for what it's worth, I wouldn't have chosen anyone else to come with me. Even in this place, you've flown above and beyond the call of duty. And for that, thank you."
Kelum couldn't help a tear from rolling down his cheek, one which he quickly wiped away, leaving behind a little smear of purple. "Thanks cap, it's been an honor serving with you too."
Kelum stood over me for a long moment, before setting down beside me. He glanced deeper into the tunnel , before turning back to face the entrance. "Cap?"
"Yeah?" My breathing was beginning to grow more ragged.
"You mentioned a Dakquo? Was that..."
"Yeah, it was."
Another moment of silence.
It's ironic, isn't it.
"It was a predator from before the Federation arrived. It likes to hide up in the trees, waiting for something to fly past. That's when it pounces. I...became fasncinated with it in my youth. To think, such a powerful creature once roamed our home, that we coexisted with it peacefully for so long. And in an instant, the Federation took it all away. I never thought I would see one. I was never suppsoed to see one. They're supposed to be all dead."
Kelum took another glance back.
"So when I saw it there, about to pounce, a small part of me couldn't help but feel amazed. Something they took from us, something that once defined who we were. And there it was, right in front of my eyes."
I coughed again, and pain roared back once more. Kelum gripped me tighly as it slowly faded, but didn't fully disppear. I didn't have long. Hours, maybe a day or two at the most.
I looked down at the wrap. A small bead of blood peeked out from the wound, which I picked up on the tip of my talon. It glowed pink under the fading light.
"It's funny. It only took a thousand years, but things are finally back to normal."
Kelum glanced back once more.
"Kelum, what are you looking at?"
"I.." he blinked, "I've been trying to ignore it, but there's down the tunnel there."
"What do you mean? Is it-"
"It's not alive, but..." his look said it might has well been. "I'm gonna check it out."
"I'm coming with you." I moved to stand up, but Kelum placed a talon on my shoulder.
"Your not going anywhere cap. Walking around isn't gonna do you any good."
"Like sitting here is." Ignoring my wound scremaing murder, I stood up, and balanced myself on two shaky legs. "I'm not sitting this out. Not anymore."
"But cap-"
"Kelum, I came here because it was a choice I could make. Let me make this one too."
Kelum moved to protest, but only managed to sigh. He unholstered my pistol, and handed it off to me. "If you die now, I'm gonna kill you cap."
That managed a frail chcukle out of me. "Glad to see your still you."
"Fuck, I'm glad too."
Every step was like ten years spent on a cattle farm, but I was able to at least walk. We began slowly creeping deeper into the cave, with Kelum bringing up his weapon light against the encroaching darkness. It revealed something only barely visible from our previous spot, a set of...bones. Inching closer showed that the corpse wasn't of a bird, or that lizard, or even the Dakquo. Rather...
"Wait..." Kelum pasued his light on the skull, where two forward facing sokcets stared back. The snout was elongated, housing row upon row of razor sharp teeth. It rested near what remained of the creatures long tail...and the hands...
"No way..."
Kelum turned his light on one of the hands. Four fingers, and...two thumbs.
"That can't be possible." Kelum swept the light to the other arm, and the story was the same. Four fingers, two thumbs. "No, this can't be right."
It wasn't supposed to be possible, but it was. It was staring us right in the face, with sockets that housed eyes that once terrfied the entire galaxy.
"It's an arxur."
Before we even had time to process the discovery, noises from back where we came caught our attention. Kelum turned towards the light, rifle raised in anticiaption of another attack. I raised my pistol, before a flash of agony nearly sent me to the ground. Something tore, something seperated, and my chest suddenly began to feel too warm. I looked down to see that the bandage had gone loose, and the blood was beginning to run free.
"Oh shit, Kalsim, hold on!"
"It's fine...it's fine." I lowered to the ground as Kelum began frantically ripping off his own vest. The blood was running in little rivers between my feathers as my gaurd despratley tried to stem the flow. But it wasn't working this time. Even with mine and his, the makeshift dressing wasn't enough to prevent what was coming now.
Everything began to fade, Kelums deseperate pleas for me to stay awake, the approaching footsteps, what sounded like voices, all rapdily consumed by the encroaching fog. Even the pain, which seemed to slink away with every passing second.
It was so...peaceful. Even as Kelum began to shake me, even as he was thrown aside by a shadowed figure, I wasn't afraid. Maybe I lost the capacity to be afraid. The path set for me left me liable to be shot or annihilaited at any given moment. I long accepted the inevitability of my death, but I was no hurry to greet it. And now here I was, knocking on the door.
The darkness envloped me entirely, and sensation quickly fell away. Just as I crossed the threshhold, one final thought occured to me:
At least it was all my fault.
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Mission Log: Day 0024

Addendum 04

Packard and his 'scouts' made their way back up to the foyer, and gave their verbal report to Lord Zee and the rest of the crowd. Reviewing the security footage let me know that the 'nobles' and their personal servants had been jockeying for positions, each one trying to claim their own 'scandalously common' picnic tables of the four, while Lord Zee had been 'inspecting' the lavatories'. Fortunately, with one lady seemingly fast asleep at one table and the other, alone among the lot in her willingness to share, simply claimed the opposite side of the same table. That left the 'boys' bickering more about which of the three remaining tables held the more 'prestigious' or 'auspicious' position; I honestly wasn't all that certain how the screaming-match would have progressed if there hadn't been enough tables to go around. The overall enthusiasm for the arguments died down as soon as Lord Zee exited the lavatories and proclaimed them 'less than perfectly dignified for those of the nobility, but safe enough' that his family could avail themselves of the two rooms. Nehdud, with Stakkeg in his wake, made a pretty obvious dash for the door Lord Zee had just passed back through. Haruinn, weighed down with all his cutlery, had no chance of beating his relative... cousin? Brother? Nephew?... to the 'room of comfort', but followed as quickly as he could. Midmolk, bless the man, lugged that tower-shield along and even into the lavatory.
It would take a few clock-cycles to collate the data made available from what the Lignignories left in the lavatories. However, I had no doubts that as soon as I had the medical-bay finished, there would be a lot of recommendations for each one of them just in terms of diet. And the collection of infections, bacterial and viral and possibly parasitical, among the lot would likely be lengthy...
Ah, well. “Disaster recovery” covered quite a wide array of needs, did it not?
My inventory-monitor let me know that at least one of the men had indulged in their curiosity about the mysterious 'extra boxes' on the walls of the lavatory-stalls. Nothing terribly impressive there, considering that the Fuin-Braetehl boys had done the same and promptly used the resulting pads as insoles for their boots. However, the 'culprit' turned out to be Kregorim. I had half-expected Lord Zee to play around with the dispensers, or even his servant, but I suppose that one doesn't become a magician without having considerable curiosity about any strange new phenomenon.
Kregorim came out of the room behind Lord Zee and the other man, carrying a small bag of faded blue cloth in his left hand and loitering around beside the other door while Lord Zee made his announcement. He also pretended to be fascinated by the water-dispenser while the two boys and their servants made a stiff-kneed, mad dash for the lavatory Lord Zee had just exited; regardless of the layout inside, the fact that Lord Zee had entered that one made it “Gentlemen's territory” by fiat.
Ah, well. If I really needed to, my nanites could move the 'feminine necessities' into the other room.
Kregorim waited until Adallinda and her personal attendant Pippa had exited... which took almost 30.57 minutes after Lord Zee and the others had completed their own 'business'... and begged a momentary indulgence from them while he entered. And it really did take only 1.503 minutes for him to come back out again.
Adallinda delivered some choice words on the subjects of the stalls themselves as well as the magician's 'audacity' of entering the Ladies' room of comfort to the slowly-growing audience of Lignignories, attendants, and other ragged-looking folk. Though directed primarily to her father, of course. While she delivered her monologue to Lord Zee, Kregorim showed the six samples of 'feminine hygiene products' he had received from the dispensers in the other room to Pippa. Her look of mild confusion switched to wide-eyed blushes as he murmured an explanation to her behind his upraised hand, but at least she wound up smiling and nodding when he straightened up. Pippa proceeded to discreetly signal to Totra and Yera, her working counterpart-servants to the other Lignignory ladies. Kregorim gave a shallow bow in their direction, letting the servants exchange the necessary information in their own way.
While the whisper-line spread the word among the ladies, Lord Zee conferred with Packard about next steps. Well, 'conferred' might be the wrong word; Lord Zee demanded to know which of the available units were best suited to his lordly self, and that he and his servants get escorted there immediately. Packard had Tianna and himself lead the way, winding up with Lord Zee, his flock of attendants, and Kregorim trailing behind.
The magician kept up with the group, running his hands along the railings and staring at the odd 'not-moss' on the stairs undersides. He also got a very good and close look at the biometric scanner, as Tianna demonstrated that the flat panel of the door would only open after someone's hand pressed on the black not-glass.
“Hmph!” Lord Zee snorted. “So any random brigand could just press their hand to the door and gain access to my noble self? Packard, we'll be discussing guard-rotations as soon as our luggage is in place!”
Tianna and Packard led the way inside, Lord Zee following and the rest of the 'servants' behind him. The tension around Lord Zee's eyes relaxed just a little as he noted the space just within. The layout amounted to adding a second bedroom and bathroom on the end of the 'main suite', extending the 'utility room' so that all the fabricators stood in a line along one wall, and expanding the kitchen for more counter-space and cabinets on the opposite side of that wall. Back home, an apartment unit like this would've been suitable for a young couple climbing their way out of the less-reputable neighborhoods and willing to have a child or two in the process, or off-campus housing for a few college students.
For Lord Zee, though...
“Hmph! Space enough for myself, I suppose, and to quarter my servants to act as guards until we get some proper deterrents installed... And not so much as a trace of a decent carpet or rug, just more of that strange... stuff... for flooring?”
“Correct, sir,” Packard answered, before gesturing at the fabricator-banks. “However, these 'magic trunks' over here will help with at least some of that...”
It felt a little bit like listening to one pre-Information Age grandfatherly-type trying to explain a modern desktop computer to another. Admittedly, Packard and Tianna did do a decent job of walking Lord Zee... and his now-named chief personal servant, Delweard... through the process of fabricating dishware, bedding, and various other basics. Lord Zee nodded in the right places, even mastered his own obvious nervousness about touching the 'mirror' on the 'magic trunk' well enough to design and trigger the 'build' for a simple chair.
“These markings...” Kregorim said, examining the screens on the 'laundry' machine. “They seem similar to the written form of Trade Tongue, but with traits more commonly used by those further north...”
“Well and good,” Lord Zee answered. “Clearly a sign from the Master Navigator that we of House Lignignory are meant to return there and rebuild our power. We shall use this... outpost... as a staging area for our journey to Baerston Stronghold...”
I tuned out yet another extended monologue on the subject, focusing more on Packard, Tianna and Kregorim as they gathered around another fabricator out of Lord Zee's direct line of sight; Delweard motioned for the rest of the ragged-looking servants to take their places as an almost-literal captive audience to hold Lord Zee's attention while the other three talked.
“Why five magic trunks...?” Kregorim asked, half to himself and half to the others.
Packard turned his head in Tianna's direction, and nodded.
Tianna frowned, holding a stance that left the magician facing her left shoulder while she kept her right hand close to the hilt of her knife. “Stockley and I didn't feel comfortable examining them too closely when we first searched the quarters, magician,” she explained. “Nothing sprang to mind except that, perhaps, whatever power built this place intended it for use by a family, perhaps to allow the Mam, the Da, and the young ones of age to use them properly to do so all at once?” Then she nodded in the direction of the hip-high surfaces on the walls at the side and rear of the room. “No sink, no lines, no washtub, but something about those tables made both of us think of laundry-rooms for some reason.”
Kregorim glanced over his shoulder, his hands drifting through movements much like folding clothes, and he nodded. “A reasonable assumption, Miss,” he answered, his tone distant. Then he turned back to the pair. “I take it that you've already determined who is to be quartered where?” he asked, tilting his head in Lord Zee's direction. “For the safety of House Lignignory, of course.”
One of Packard's eyebrows rose a millimeter, returned to place. He gestured to the side, then curved the hand downward. “Beside us is another set of chambers like this, but mirrored,” he explained. “And directly below us, duplicates of both. Further dawnward are four smaller such, two above and two below. I and mine haven't as much need for space as the Lignignories, and at least two of us'll be on patrol at any given hour, so we'll take two of them for guard-quarters and rotate in and out as needed. Figure that the clients will want us close to hand, so we've left you the one on the end, down on ground level.”
Kregorim nodded. “Fair enough,” he answered. “Need either of you be present to grant me entrance, or may I make my way there alone, now?”
At their headshakes, he stepped over to Lord Zee's side and waited for the man to take a breath. “With your permission, your lordship, I shall go inspect my own quarters before deciding where to set my luggage,” he said.
Lord Zee turned in place, flustered at the interruption. “What, what, what?” he stammered, before recovering himself a bit. “You dared to claim a space before I, your Lord, had chosen one for you?”
Packard stepped up, one hand up with palm out. “It was a security decision, your lordship,” he said, his tone even. “The two units at the end of this line are closest to what seems to be a trail leading to the opposite cliffside. Between my people and the magician's arts, we should be able to form a suitable defense against any intruders approaching from that direction.”
Mollified, Lord Zee nodded. “Very well, you may proceed then, magician.” His 'chair' build completed, he opened the build-chamber hatch and glared at the contents. “Packard, what manner of japery is this?” he demanded, and Tianna took over explaining that the 'blocks' inside constituted the compact, even portable, form of the chair he had requested. She handed the pieces, one at a time, to Delweard and the other servants, who were able to get them all snapped and twisted together into a solid-looking straight-backed chair.
Lord Zee gestured for them to move the thing into the center of the main room and settled into it, wriggling in place before returning his attention to more important matters. “Delweard, where do you suppose we should quarter the stock for the night?” the balding 'noble' asked.
Kregorim took his leave, walking back to the lobby-area and taking those stairs down to the ground floor, then proceeding past the other doors... and to my considerable surprise, ignoring the maintenance staircase... to the last panel, next to the final door.
He pressed his hand to it. I took a clock-cycle to include notes in my own files to warn Thakhibi, Sudryal, and the others that I had needed to let someone else use 'their' quarters until I could finish getting another floor's worth of accommodations finished, then granted him access. The magician nodded as the door opened, and he stepped inside.
He glanced around, noting the presence of the fabrication units in the utility room. Then his eyes roved across the walls...
“I take it that you were waiting until I was somewhat separated from the others, and in suitable privacy,” he said, addressing the air and taking a balanced stance in the center of the main room. “I do hope that you've decided to introduce yourself. I am called Krunorim Kregorim, magician, oathbound servant to Lord Zortemos Egenor Lignignory the Fourth, and I would very much like to speak with the one whose mind I touched not to long ago..."
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27 Shaw

Address: 27 Shaw Blvd, San Antonio, Pasig
Of the two spas mentioned in the title, I first visited 27 Shaw. This was only the second time I visited a spa like this, I availed the Explorer service which was their sensual massage package. Price was 1300, card POS was temporarily unavailable.

The Facility

They give you 2 towels and a bathrobe initially, they come in two sizes, one standard bath towel and another that’s not a lot bigger than a face towel. They gave me 2 of the latter until I requested a larger one. Any additional towels incur a 50 pesos fee to be paid once you hand over your locker key fob in the counter. Better to leave one towel in the locker and use the other before the massage, as it will get wet, very wet. My green-ass self brought both inside and had to request 2 additional towels throughout my time there.
I arrived a few hours before my massage to spend more time in the wet room. It was shortly after opening, so there were only single digits of us.
The wet room had a shower room, sauna, steam room, a hot pool, and a water dispenser with a never ending flow of clean cups.
There’s a hot pool, not as hot as the coolest hot pool in Ace Water Spa. It’s towels off, so if you’re shy bring a swim trunk, I’ve seen some do. There’s a section of the pool that’s directly underneath a sun well, so you get to view the sky as you lay down and just relax. People seemed to just chill around and chat in the pool, which was quite wholesome.
You’re advised to take a shower before dipping in the pool. The shower cubicle is quite large, enough to fit 9 people if you’re ever inclined to do so. The divider between cubicles is translucent glass, so if someone leans over with their hands you’ll clearly see the hands. The shampoo and body soap dispenser is unlabeled so you won’t know which is which. I never figured the difference and suspect they’re both body wash. It was here where I first heard signs of action, moaning and clapping in the next shower cubicle.
Besides that, the sauna was decent, decently lit, lovely smell of wood, nothing much to say about it, just remember to pour water on the rocks. Also the wood floor and benches creak a lot.
Then there’s the stram room. The steam room is separated into two sections. Before the actual steam room, there’s a very dimly lit section with 2 curtain-less showers. After that there’s a door that leads to the actual steam room. It’s a dark, foggy L shaped room with one single source of light, which is under a short bench. You will not be able to recognize people’s faces here at all, only their overall silhouettes.\

Pre Massage

Not much happened before my massage just chilling between the facilities. Around half an hour before it a guy gestured to me when we were alone in the steam room. He reached over my dick as he placed my hand on his. He seemed to have just come out of a massage as his skin was oily and his dick already rock hard. A few rubs later he put his hand behind my head which I immediately knew what he wanted. I leaned over and started licking his dick and balls. After a while, he maneuvered me to kneel over as he stood up. His hands manhandling my head like a toy. Before long, he pushed my head in, held it there, and moaned hard. I could feel the hot liquid shooting up my throat, immediately followed by its bitter taste. He slapped my face with it a few times then he says needs to take a shower. We cleaned up, parted ways, and before long I went to my massage.
One thing to note about the steam room. It’s quite hot and humid when there’s only a few people inside, and counterintuitively gets cooler with a lot of people. It’s due to the frequent opening and closing of the doors when lots of people are going in and out of it so the steam just gets lost. So, if you’re just into the steam room’s steam, you might want to visit early when there’s only a few people there.

The Massage

The massage area was on the second floor, the stairs situated just before the locker room when entering the place. There’s a powder room and lounge in this floor that I didn’t get to visit, maybe next time. The walls between each massage room don’t go up to the ceiling, so sound can very easily travel between rooms.
I stripped down and waited for my therapist, who was a few minutes late. Can’t blame him, they only get at least 10 minutes break between sessions when the spa is fully booked. Eventually he arrived, we exchanged pleasantries, and he lightly explained the procedure he’s going to do. He asked if it was my first time, I think it’s their SOP as my neighboring cubicles were also asked the same question.
The massage itself was terrific. He quickly put pressure on my back, and after that hopped on my back and started dry humping me. Personally not a big fan of dry humps but that’s just me. He proceeded to do some rub my back and legs. I was walking the whole day from window shopping before so I didn’t realize how sore my heels were, which the massage gave me some relief. It was like this for a while until he started pouring oil on my body. LOTS of oil. Which is around the time of the procedure where he’d actually start grabbing my dick. He’d do this interspersedly with some leg or back rubs. Then eventually, he focused on my ass and started to gradually open it up, up until he put in a finger and start fingering me. So the routine now goes: dick rubbing, fingering, and back of leg massage. Sometimes it’s both dick rubbing and fingering. He’d also hop on my back and whisper in my ear: “Masarap ba, ah?” It was so over the top I almost found it humorous, and I just played along. Just before I switched to have my back on the bed, he lifted one of my legs and fingered me again, then did it again a second time on the other leg.
Around the 45 minute mark he had me roll over and switch to lay on my back. It was here where he’d just lift both my legs and both finger me and rub my dick. He’d then let me rub it myself but I told him I wasn’t seeking to ejaculate just yet. So he just gave me a head massage. I guess the massage was supposed to end when the client eventually finishes. We had a nice chat while he was rubbing my head and shoulders. He even recommended a therapist on their new branch if I ever find myself visiting there.
Unlike Infinity Spa which was the first spa I visited, the therapist did not ask for extra service. He only mentioned the tipping box in the reception area. He also gave me a new towel, though I preferred to use my old one since I was covered in oil, I also didn’t wear the bathrobe when leaving the massage room fearing it will also be stained in oil later when I clean up.

Post Massage

The massage ended, and I headed back downstairs. At this point the people inside the spa dramatically increased. I skipped the showers as there was a considerable line waiting for vacant cubicles. So I headed for the steam room to chill. Immediately after opening the door, I hear moaning. I maneuver through the room, lo and behold, 5 guys standing in the corner just having at it. Even more guys are just standing or sitting around them, either just watching or masturbating while they watch. The group soon broke off so I sat on an empty spot. I spotted 3 guys next to me rubbing each other’s junks. It was subtle but the movement was barely visible under the low light, their actions confirmed by their constant moaning and hissing. I just watched them while I rubbed my own.
I eventually moved to the sauna, and as soon as I enter a guy just got off another’s crotch and let out a loud woo, then continued to let out sounds of delight as if he just ate the finest meal he's ever had. Again, I just sit on a spot, close my eyes and relax.
Throughout the rest of the evening, I witnessed two full blown threesomes in the steam room with a guy being railed on both holes. Both times a crowd formed around them, some just looking, some masturbating, and a few actually went on to touch the participants, either by rubbing the participants' junks, squeezing or licking their nipples, or outright kissing them; Then there was a guy being fucked standing with their legs up, back against the wall in the steam room shower. The shower was better lit than the steam room, so the bottom made eye contact to the various bystanders watching them, he's stick out his togue to some of us as he moaned loudly; Then there was a guy blowing 3 other guys in the steam room while he kneeled naked on the floor, his toned body perfectly outlined by the sole light of the room.
I even spotted a friend I chat with online having a go with some guys in the showers. He doesn't know what I look like so I didn't attempt to say hello, but his socials activity that night seemed to confirm that it was him that I met. It's his special night out so rather not mention it with him.
There’s plenty other scenes but these were the most memorable.
At some point I got tired, I showered to the best of my abilities, got dressed, paid the towel fees, scanned the therapist’s GCash QR code to tip him, and went off to have dinner.
The overall clientele that day was quite diverse, most seemed to be 20-30, leaning on the higher range. Body types also wildly varied, from twinks to hunks to chubs. I saw all body types get some action that day so perhaps body preferences were equally diverse.
8/10

T by 27 Shaw

Address: 118 Timog Avenue, Diliman, Quezon CIty

The Facility

A nonspecific amount of days later, I found myself having a bunch of time to kill, and near Timog Quezon, the site of their newest spa. So I headed over, only availing their Sage package, which doesn’t have a massage and only has wet room access. I didn’t know specifically how many hours I had to kill so I deferred from getting an 80 minute massage.
This spa was visibly bigger than the main spa. The locker room has a dedicated attendants room with all their tools inside. There’s bigger toilets, they’re even bigger than the gigantic shower cubicles, then there’s a dedicated urinal room with no doors; there’s a bigger sauna, bigger steam room, one cold pool and one huge hot pool, and an area called The Labyrinth with stone benches and showers scattered throughout this very dimly if at all lit area. The cold pool had a lovely waterfall like installment, it’s not as strong as the weakest water shower in Ace Water Spa, but it was still nice. The hot pool had sections and corners, and it was very brightly lit. And instead of a water dispenser, they had water fountains with no cup dispensers instead. The showers seemed to be installed incorrectly, as some showers were hot when turned to the right, while some to the left. The water was scalding hot too so it was not a mistake you could easily wave off.

The Experience

Not much happened here in terms of physical action. There were a lot more people here at the same hour compared to my visit to the main spa. Most of them seemed to know each other which was quite a wholesome sight.
I had to head back to my phone multiple times due to the personal reason why I didn’t book a massage. I have an iPhone on the Globe network, and the signal in the locker room was abysmal, zero bars sometimes, which made me leave the area and head to the lounge for some stable internet.
Speaking of the lounge, I visited the lounge this time, and they served complementary tea, water, and cookies. It was a large, nicely furnished room on the second floor with a balcony outside that has a stone garden overlooking the street outside. There’s a steel mesh thing installed as the facade of the building so cars downstairs wouldn’t really be able to see clearly inside. Some people just sit and chill inside, while I saw one person who seems to do some work on a laptop in his bathrobes. Gotta respect the hustle.
The new spa is still not technically fully opened, some services are not yet offered and some facilities with those services still sitting idle.
In the end I liked the facilities of T by 27 Shaw better, it felt like it had more thought put into it thanks to learning from the lessons of the main spa, wrong shower installation aside. I’ve heard that the masseurs of T by 27 Shaw all came from the main spa, so I’d expect the same kind of service 27 Shaw has. I’ll try to visit and book a massage next time.
9/10

You know that unsettling feeling you sometimes get when you're home alone? That sudden shiver that races up your spine, making your skin crawl even when you know you're the only one there? It's the kind of feeling that makes you hesitate to cross that dark hallway in your house, your mind playing tricks on you, warning of unseen dangers lurking in the shadows of the place you call home.
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I never knew my parents. My grandmother was the only constant presence in my life, a tough woman hardened by years of hard work and the harsh climate of Krasnoyarsk. She, like many women of her time, toiled in one of the area's numerous metallurgical factories. Though she wasn't always around, she cared for me as best she could, even if her love often came with a stern demeanor. With two mouths to feed, she often had to leave me in the care of our neighbors for long stretches of time, often returning only to sleep at home.
Our neighborhood was composed mostly of factory workers and their families, who lived in small huts that offered little relief from the cold. Our own house was no exception. Tucked away on the edge of the community, it was a modest shack of barely 50 square meters. Inside, the walls were painted a weathered yellow, while the floor was covered with wooden planks. Curiously, the exterior was camouflaged by logs, attempting to conceal the concrete beneath. The house wasn't that much by itself, but the patches of trees that surrounded the house left a clear area where the house sat, making it feel like it didn't belong to the city.
My grandmother had a peculiar taste in decorating. The outside of our house was adorned with a variety of ornaments and bird sculptures, painted in bright colors. When she decided on a particular decoration, she refused to change it, no matter what. Inside, the walls were adorned with framed photos of unfamiliar faces, intercalated with portraits of unfamiliar people. My grandmother had a habit of collecting these photos and scattering them around the house in a seemingly random fashion. She also had a habit of rearranging furniture every few weeks, which left me perplexed and curious as to her motivations.
Whenever I asked her about her frequent rearrangements, her expression would turn somber, silencing any further questions. It was an unspoken rule in our household: certain questions were best left unanswered.
Sometimes my grandmother had no choice but to leave me home alone, mainly because Anna, the neighbor who usually took care of me, couldn't, either for medical or personal reasons. On those days, she would come home from work earlier than usual and seem more exhausted than ever. However, there was a subtle sense of relief in her eyes when I was there, as if she feared something was going to happen to me during those brief hours of solitude. But the worst days were those when my grandmother was not able to get home before sunset; those days were the ones I dreaded the most.
During the day, the small forest surrounding our house was my playground, sometimes even losing track of time until the sun began to set. But when it got dark, the trees would transform into menacing shadows that would cast themselves over the house.
Sometimes, when I closed the curtains, an unsettling feeling would come over me: I felt I was being watched by invisible eyes. On rare occasions, I would summon the courage to peek outside and see two piercing white orbs fixed to the house. Hastily, I would close the window and crawl into bed, burying myself under the covers and shivering with fear. Struggeling to stay awake, terrified at the thought of the murmurs returning, pearcing through the walls while the presence lurked on the other side of my window, in the distance.
Most nights, exhaustion would get the better of me, and I would fall asleep. Whenever I woke up, usually in the morning, the sound of wood scraping against the floor would signal that my grandmother was moving the furniture around.
Shuted in my room until she was done, listening to the eerie symphony of the wood slowly and leisurely creeping against each other while I waited for her approval to leave the room.
During those days when I was confined to my room until my grandmother finished rearranging the furniture, she always seemed to be in a hurry, almost frantic, to get us out of the house. She would quickly hand me over to our neighbor, Anna, and leave me in her care until the next day, appearing extremely tired.
Normal days were spent playing with two of the neighbor kids, Pavel and Varina.
Pavel was one of the few kids I played with when I was little. He never let the stories that were told about our house and my grandmother be a problem for us to become friends. We met playing one day like any other day on the back of the river that crosses the back of our neighborhood. We started a competition to see who was able to roll a stone over the water the most times. We spent hours running up and down, looking at all the possible stones to find the perfect ones that would lead us to victory against each other. I lost the competition that day, but I got the best friendship I could have wished for.
We met Varinka two years later. Her parents moved to our neighborhood from another nearby city because they got an offer in one of the factories. The one that started talking to her was Pavel, being the sociable child that he was. Both of them became close friends almost immediately. Soon after, I followed Pavel's steps and befriended her.
On the days that I spent with Anna, the three of us used to go on our own little adventures that were restricted to meal and snack times, and you must believe that we squeezed out as much time as possible. Our usual routine used to be to build hideouts, climb trees, and play hide and seek in the small forest that wrapped my house.
Pavel, Varinka, and I had multiple spots with small hideouts that barely resisted a day or two because of the poor choice of materials that we built them with, but still, there were two that held the most: the tree house and the cave.
The Tree House was the closest one to my house; it consisted of a dead tree that was hollow inside. It was quite small, and the only things that we kept inside the tree house were some rocks that we used as chairs and a big piece of wood that we used as a table. The area that surrounded the tree house was quite dense with poor sunlight because of the multiple trees that grew there. Because of the many days we spent there playing, a path was created because of our footsteps, making a small path to the west part of my house. While the tree house was a five-minute walk through the forest, the cave was further inside the forest. As the name foreshadowed, the cave was a hole besides a small hill. The cave wasn't much bigger than the tree, but the fact that it was a cave made our minds think that it was for some reason cooler than the tree house. There was the place that we used to hang out the most whenever we got the chance to go to the forest. The cave was decorated inside as much as a child could. We took some chairs that Pavel found in the dumpster while Varinka brought some flowers from her garden, and meanwhile, I brought a small bird feeder that my grandmother recently changed for a newer one.
Those were the happiest memories that I could remember—those times when we could play freely without anything that could worry us—but sadly, those days weren't meant to last forever.
One day that Anna left me to go to the forest. As usual, Pavel, Varinka, and I met at the river as always, walking while following the water flow towards the forest. We chatted about some nonsens that Pavel used to bring out, laughing, and we walked in the forest, following the small path that we used to go in and out of the forest from the side of the river.
As we moved deeper into the forest, an uneasy feeling came over us, overshadowing our carefree chatter. The familiar sights and sounds of the forest seemed different that day, as if the trees themselves were whispering warnings we couldn't decipher.
Pavel, Varinka, and I followed the beaten path, our footsteps echoing in the silent forest. But as we approached the clearing where our hideout awaited us, an eerie silence descended, suffocating the once vibrant atmosphere. The air grew heavy with anticipation. An unspoken tension hung over us like a shroud.
Arriving at the Tree House, we found it shrouded in darkness and its hollow trunk in eerie silence. The rocks that had served as our seats lay scattered on the forest floor, as if they had been abandoned. Even the dense treetops seemed to retain their usual warmth, casting long shadows that stretched out like accusing fingers.
With a nervous glance between us, we continued on, our steps faltering as we approached the cave. But as we drew closer, we realized that the entrance was blocked by fallen debris, as if it had been sealed shut by some unseen force.
A chill ran down my spine as I exchanged glances with Pavel and Varinka. What had once been our sanctuary now looked as if an earthquake would have knocked down the entrance.
As the first tendrils of fear coiled in our hearts, a distant sound echoed—a sound that sent a shiver down my spine.
It was a faint whimper, barely louder than the sound of leaves against the wind, but loud enough to startle us all.
Varinka, frightened, stood motionless, with a desperate look that stopped at nothing in particular, trying to see where such a chilling sound could come from. When I saw Pavel, he was standing before Varinka, holding a stone that he must have picked up from the pile he was standing on whileI was looking at the entrance to the cave, and then... Something started to flow through the rocks
It was a strange liquid that had a carmesi tone that seemed to glow in the shadows—a liquid that appeared to have no visible limits and seemed to come out of nowhere.
I didn't notice how much time I spent looking at the red liquid flowing through the rocks when I noticed something; whatever thing was wimpering, it wasn't outside with us. It was inside the cave.
I didn't know what to do. Varinka was already running back to her house while Pavel was frozen in the same position as he was, looking at the entrance of the cave, but his face didn't seem scared or shocked anymore; instead, his face seemed like he was hypnotized. He took a step towards the cave.
When I realized what I was going to do, I rushed at him, gripping him by the shoulder and shaking him, trying to shake him out of his trance. After a few seconds, Pavel looked around in confusion as the faint whimpers continued to sound behind the rubble, increasingly agonizing but whimpering with the same intensity.
When Pavel finally looked at me, the first thing he said was, “Where is Varinka?”, “She's gone already,” I replied frantically, trying to get him to start moving. Hearing me,he dropped the stone, which splashed some of the strange crimson liquid on our shoes, and ran towards the forest path, While I followed closely behind him, the whimper of the thing could still be heard behind us.
After not much time, we arrived at the river where Varinka was sobbing, catching her breath, i turned to see how Pavel was doing, i saw him with an absorbed look, watching closely the trees, almost as if something was talking to him.
That night was one of the worst that I have experienced. When my grandmother came home that night, she noticed that something was wrong at the moment that she saw me.
"What happened?" she asked with an expression that I had never seen before in her face; it seemed to be a mix of seriousness and worry.
I told her about how we had found our hideouts destroyed, the whimper, and the strange substance. Without wating any longer, she almost jumped and started to search frantically in some drawers, taking out some kind of cross that I had never seen before. It seemed similar to the catoloc corss, but in the lower part it was split in half, making it seem like two wooden legs. On all of the surface, different carvings were made; some of them seemed Russian, some of them were Nordic, some of them were Latin, and a bunch of them I can't even recognize today.
She left the cross in the middle of the house and then rushed towards the kitchen, grabbing all the meat that we had on the house and throwing it out. I looked at her with a mix of perplexity and worry, as I didn't understand what she was doing.
She took me to the bathroom and started to bathe me, scrubbing my whole body almost as if she were trying to clean out a stain from a new piece of cloth. When she was done, I noticed that my skin was red because of the rubbing.
When she was done with me, she took the same ritual with the rest of the house, opening every window, the door, and the cabinets and scrubbing them. I didn't understand what was going on; the house was almost completely dark; only the light from the lamps that we had and the full moon could be seen in the sky; the air was cold; and I was still wet from the bath.
She finished with the house and started to do the same to herself, scrubbing her skin until it became red. The sound of her breathing and the scrubbing was the only thing that could be heard; the forest was in absolute silence.
She finished, and looked at me.
"Now, let's pray," she said with a calm voice, almost too calm, as if her previous panic was never there.
We kneeled beside the strange cross and began to pray; the windows and door were still open at this point. Something could be heard outside.
As the first words started to come out of our mouths, the whimper appeared softly, as if trying to not make us notice his presence. Word after word, it grew persistent.
The moon, covered by a thin layer of clouds, enveloped our home with eerie shadows. Our prayers grew in intensity, trying to match the whimper as if we were trying to cover it with our own voice. Then, suddenly, nothing. I didn't feel cold or warmth; I didn't feel my hand brushing against my grandmother's hand; the numbness in my knees from kneeling; the cold of the night against my skin; just the whimpering, weak, almost pleasant and sweet, like a mother's call or like the sun against your skin on a spring evening. I wanted to answer him, to go to him, to let myself go.
A pull.
When I came to my senses, I was on the porch. As I looked around frantically, I saw my grandmother pulling me, with a terror I could never have imagined to have seen on her face. Then I looked to where her gaze was fixed. Slowly, as I gazed through those bird ornamentations that I had become so used to seeing, I looked towards the trees. Orbs—dozens, no, hundreds of them looking at us.
I rushed inside in an instant catching my grandmother by surprise, stuttering she kept praying, leaving the door still open, once again, we knelt, over the next few hours it tried to pull me back to him countless times, I was about to give in again on a couple of occasions but the horror on my grandmother's face anchored me to the ground in front of the cross, at one point in time the night began to fade, leaving behind its shadows and with it those observant orbs, waiting for a mistake to jump towards us, changing it’s place with a tenuous golden light, which with its arrival marked the end of the nightmare of that night, with the whimpering becoming weaker and weaker my eyes closed with exhaustion, letting me drift off into a peaceful sleep.
Knocks woke me up a few hours later; it seemed frantic. I was in bed in my pajamas, disoriented by the events of the previous night. I stood up suddenly, my heart pounding against my chest at the sudden knocking on the front door. I got up to see who was banging on the front door.
“Yakov!” Someone screamed on the other side of the door with an anguished voice. “Yakov, please open the door.”
I ran towards the door, opening it as I recognized the voice on the other side; it was the voice of Anna.
“What-what happened, Anna?” In a scared tone, I was able to ask her.
It was an unusual situation; Anna didn’t like to get to close to my house, so seeing her here on the porch was something that I didn’t expect at all.
“Pavel…” She was able to tell, under a sigh, “Pavel is lost.”
My world started to shatter as Anna was able to say those words. She continued talking, asking me questions frantically, but my mind wasn’t there.
“Do you know where he is? Did he by any chance go to your house the last night?” Ana said.
"Whimpers,” I thought out loud. Anna tried to speak, “Wha-.”
Before she could even finish what she was saying, I started to run, barefoot. I ran faster than I even imagined that I could; the adrenalin pumping in my veins kept the pain away from my feet. I ran. I really ran. As fast as I could, I really tried.
When I arrived at the cave, it was too late; the carmesi substance was only touching the stones, almost as if avoiding the ground. Once I looked up, I saw an entrance; for some reason, a hole could be seen in the middle of the debris.
“Pavel!” I cried out, my voice trembling with fear and desperation, but there was no response. I tried to move the fallen debris that was blocking the entrance with trembling hands, but it was too heavy and firmly wedged in place.
Tears began to fall as I realized the horrifying truth: Pavel was trapped inside the cave, cut off from the outside world by a rubble wall. Panic gripped my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs as I struggled to make sense of the situation.
My mind raced with a thousand thoughts and fears, each one more terrifying than the last. What if Pavel was hurt? What if he was alone and scared? What if... he wasn’t alone?
With trembling limbs, I tried to force my way into the cave, clawing at the rocks with desperate urgency. But no matter how hard I tried, the debris refused to budge, despite my desperate efforts.
Time seemed to stretch into eternity as I stood there, helpless and alone, with the sound of my own heartbeat echoing in my ears. The forest around me was silent, as if it were waiting for the unthinkable.
And then, from deep within the cave, I heard it: a faint whimper, barely audible above my own heartbeat. It was Pavel's voice, weak and muffled, but unmistakably him.
“Pavel, oh god, i-i’m here!” I called out to him, my voice breaking with terror, but there was no answer.
I realized with a sinking feeling in my stomach that Pavel was out of reach, trapped in a prison of stone and darkness with whatever called him to enter the cave. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I collapsed on the ground, overcome by grief and despair. The weight of the situation pressed down on me like a physical force, crushing me under its unbearable weight. In that moment, I felt completely alone, like a small, insignificant speck in the vastness of the universe. And as I gazed up at the sky, my vision blurred with tears. I couldn't help but wonder if anyone would ever find Pavel or if anyone would ever know what had happened to him.
But deep down, I knew the truth: Pavel was lost, swallowed up by the darkness of the cave, trapped with the thing that whimpered, and there was nothing I could do to save him. And as I sat there, alone in the forest, I saw the last stones being pulled by the strange carmesi liquid, loking them in their final place, and with them silencing Pavel to the outside world.

I'm at the dermatologist getting a growth looked at on my nose. I'm waiting to be called, when an older woman limps out of her appointment. She has a grumpy look on her face, but her knee clearly is having a bad day. She walks out, and then comes back into the waiting area asking if any of us parked next to her because she couldn't get into her car. No one in this office owned that vehicle so she said "I guess I have to sit and wait!" The receptionist immediately starts calling other offices in the building center and then I, trying to just be nice, say, "Ma'am I will go pull your car out for you if it will help?" She does not miss a beat and gesturing with both her hands in multiple direction that I'm way to big to help her. I looked a little shocked and then the entire waiting room looked at me for a response. Older women have commented on my size my entire life, I'm tall and heavy. Not phased yet so I say, "Ma'am I may be big but I'm willing to help. I will climb through the trunk if it will help you out." Kind of joking because we all can see her spot. I walk outside ahead of her and go to her car and ask for her keys and she says again, "See you are too big how are you going to help." Then she starts complaining about the person who parked there asking me over and over if it is my car. I ask for her key so I can back her car our and she's hesitant to give it to me. I offer her my wallet to hold while I pull her car out and she says my generation doesn't carry cash so it doesn't matter. (What!? My ids and credit cards and address are in there you idiot.) So I get the keys, pull her car around and help her in and the entire time she never said thank you or anything kind. She just kept saying, your too big to help. Even after helping.
I was the only one willing to help her and she couldn't say thank you, she has to put me down. Her car, btw was filled with her horse training equipment and we live are currently in downtown Chicago.
Long story short: even after helping, boomer was mean to the only person who offered to physically help her.

Eventually he managed to persuade the safety pod to let him out. It had stubbornly urged him to stay inside for his own protection while it sent out a distress signal.
“A recovery team is being sent to your coordinates,” it had told him, “You are advised to remain inside. Please keep your limbs within the pod at all times and await rescue. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“No one is coming,” he had replied in exasperation, “The people that built you have long since turned to stardust.”
“65 Syngman Bb is a class-C planet currently unsuitable for human life. Hazardous conditions are guaranteed.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he’d scolded it, “I was born on this miserable rock. I’m well aware of the dangers.”
Still, he had waited around for a bit to see if the machine would make good on its promise. In that time he’d tried to catch a nap inside the safety of the pod even though it reeked to high heaven. But after an hour the stuffiness and stink had driven him briefly insane and he’d demanded his release, stamping his foot like a petulant brat. He’d conjured up an irrational suspicion in his head that the reason the pod wasn’t letting him out was that it was physically incapable of obeying his commands, having perhaps taken too much damage in the crash. The last thing he wanted was to be entombed alive inside it.
Then the pod wall in front of him slid aside and Rene felt the hot blast of the tropical breeze as a new world sprang to life before his eyes. The Aeronautical Division had never flown this far north to his knowledge—all of this was virgin territory. The lithobraking bladders had deflated shortly after landing and lowered the pod gently to the ground.
Rene stepped out onto the rich black loam of the jungle. And a jungle it was, that and then some. The shortest trees were at least sixty feet tall, while the tallest gave him a crick in the neck when he tried see where their branches ended. Ropy strangler vines wound around the crooked trunks, weaving a loom so thick that he could barely make out the suns. In fact he wasn’t entirely sure it was daytime anymore. From the sparseness of the undergrowth it was clear that not much could grow under the total shadow of the canopy.
“Alright, trooper,” he said to himself, “What now?”
Oxygen narcosis would kill him in a matter of hours. He was beginning to regret opening the pod and letting out all the good air, though he doubted it would have lasted very long anyway with that great big crack in the glass. Besides, he couldn’t bear another hour stuck in that cesspit. He’d made quite a mess in there, and he rather hoped that the spirit in the pod wouldn’t take offense.
Which was quite ridiculous, really. He had bigger things to worry about than offending an incorporeal presence. He was going to rupture his lungs out here in a matter of hours. Either that, or starve to death, or sprout mold across his skin like Lethway, or perish of thirst, or get gobbled up by some exotic new lifeform yet to be named by science. Or worse, the Amits could come creeping up on him in the night while he lay delirious. All he would feel were claws digging into the soft flesh of his neck, and then…
“You’re being hysterical,” Deschane would’ve told him right about now, “Act like you’ve got a pair, trooper. Remember your training.”
What training? Three years in officer training school? His mother has been so proud when he’d been accepted into the elite Pathfinder Regiment. It had meant that his family received additional weekly rations. Even better, they had earned the right to add a five by four foot living extension to their living quarters, which was just large enough for him to crawl into at bedtime and save his parents the trouble of stuffing themselves and three fully grown children into a chamber that could barely hold two people. Yes, he’d had it somewhat soft as an officer, however lowly his position. For one thing, it had meant that he only had to complete the barest minimum of an infantryman’s training regimen. A regimen which included, incidentally, several courses on surviving in the wilderness. Skills like building a fire without flint and steel, constructing makeshift breathing apparatuses in case of gasmask failure, or even fashioning those crude but highly effective stone weapons like the Amits were so fond of using; these things had been given lesser priority than topics like strategy, logistics, small-unit tactics, cartography, navigation and basic firearms drills.
As such, Rene had only taken the first survivalist course, and his memory of that was spotty at best. Ah well. It was better than nothing.
“Rain or shine, we hold the line,” Lethway had been fond of quoting. It was the motto of the 3rd Pathfinder Regiment and its meaning was simple: a proper trooper made do with what he had, no matter the circumstances.
Cheering up a bit at the memory of his eternally ebullient friend, Rene began taking stock of his situation. Oxygen narcosis was his immediate enemy. He would start to get dizzy and slap-happy in a few minutes unless he did something about it.
An idea occurred to him. The ancestor-gods would’ve faced the same issues when it came to surviving on the surface world. He opened the survival kit and rummaged around for something that could help. Sure enough, the first tool he found was a rubber mask with a see-through visor. It seemed much flimsier than the standard-issue masks he was used to, with a long hose connecting its snout to a breathing apparatus mounted on a backpack. Rene wiped his face clean with his sleeves before putting it on. The visor fit his face like a glove, the straps and the lining of the mask remolding themselves to form an airtight fit. It came as no surprise that the air he inhaled through it was sweeter and more wholesome than any he had ever encountered. He took a moment to simply enjoy the luxury of breathing before moving on with his work.
Rene also found a spare set of clothing in the form of a white jumpsuit made of some supple fabric that was stronger than canvas and lighter than silk. But there was no way he was getting into that without washing himself clean. Rene hated feeling filthy. Like every right-thinking citizen of Mound Ulysses he was a severe germaphobe who knew that uncleanliness always preceded outbreaks of disease. Plagues had wiped out entire settlements in the past, the tight confines of the hive a natural breeding grounds for contagion. Yes, a good wash in a river or pond would do him wonders.
Speaking of which, he still had to secure a source of potable water. He licked his lips at the thought of a cup of water from the underground reservoirs of home. Ulysses was famous for its delicious water. Chock-full of minerals it was, enough to put hair on a growing boy’s unmentionables.
Searching for water would mean venturing into the unknown, and with night falling who knew what awaited him out there, or how far that river he’d seen truly was? Coming across some local wildlife was a certainty.
He still remembered those winged harpies he’d seen right before the Divine Engine had given him the old heave-ho. The beam-throwing weapon had caught scores of the creatures in its flames, but many more had flown clear and escaped. Even now they could be roosting in the branches above him, waiting to dive down and dismember him with the same ease with which they had butchered the Amits. Rene wasn’t taking any chances. He needed a weapon, and once more, the box provided.
It came in a sheathe of alabaster metal, a short broad blade with a cumbersome basket hilt. He wondered why a stubby blade needed such bulky hand protection when it was clearly unsuited to sword fencing. The pommel folded up to reveal a red button. Pressing it, Rene was startled when the blade began to vibrate in his hand like a living thing. He was so surprised that he dropping it by accident, snatching back his hand and letting it fall. It hit the ground hilt-first and spun, the cutting edge glancing against a huge granite boulder. The stone parted like butter beneath a hot knife, splitting apart into two equal halves. But the blade kept on going, skittering across the ground and striking the base of a tree. There was a terrible groan of stricken timber and the giant was felled, Rene judiciously stepping aside as it ripped through the blanket of vines to leave a gaping rent in the canopy above him.
Rene gingerly picked up the now inert sword and grasped it firmly in hand.
“Why, yes,” he muttered, feeling pleased, “Yes, I believe this will do.”
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Joy
“Please don’t do this to me! I’ll die out there!” Tiffany crumpled to the floor, phone shaking against her ear.
A gruff voice crackled. “I’m sorry Tiffany, our runner in your area got caught on his latest delivery. My other guy barely made it back. He saw Jimmy get hauled into the van. They’ve probably torn him apart by now.”
“Please…I don’t have any food left in the house. I’ll never make it out there. They’ll spot me immediately.”
“Listen, listen Tiff. It’s going to be OK. Listen to me alright? There’s a shop one block away from you.”
“I can’t!”
“You have to! OK, all you have to do is get in and get out. Put on the darkest sunglasses you have. You have shades right?”
Tiffany glanced up to the cabinet. Her terrified face reflected at her through the polarized lenses. “Uh-huh”
“That’s good, that’s real good. Now you put those on and grab enough food for a week while I find a replacement runner OK?”
“O-OK”
“And Tiffany?”
“Remember to smile, smile as wide as you can and never drop it. You know what happens if they suspect…”
“I know, thanks Mark.”
Tiffany hung up the phone with a shuddering exhale. She stood up and looked herself over in the mirror. A terrified blonde woman stared back, eyes wide with fear.
She wiped her tears and smoothed out her locks. She grasped her oversized sunglasses with trembling hands and put them on. She bent over, adjusting them carefully to ensure no trace of her eyes could be seen.
Glancing down, she looked over her list of food. Enough for a week…get in, get out…and smile.
Before turning to leave, she smiled into the mirror. The upturned mouth seemed almost foreign to her; she hadn’t laughed since everyone had been Torn. There weren’t many of her left in the world; the Joyous reigned supreme.
She stretched her smile as wide as it could go, until her cheeks strained with the effort. Exhaling through her teeth, she grasped the handle. The doorknob shook from her grip. Get it together…in and out…
She twisted the knob and threw the door open.
An eyeless face sprang up to meet her.
Tiffany screamed and jumped back.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”
Tiffany clutched her heaving chest, trying to calm herself. The woman standing in on her stoop had no eyes, only dark, empty sockets each gleaming with a glowing pinprick of light. An enormous smile spread from ear to ear.
Tiffany forced words from her paralyzed mind. “Oh, it’s alright, I was just about to get some shopping done!”
The woman stared unblinking with her flickering pits. She lifted a newspaper. “I saw this blow over onto the street, so I thought I’d bring this little ol’ newsie inside!” She let out a raucous laugh.
Tiffany accepted the paper, praying she looked relaxed. She took a quick glimpse at the headline.
Joy! New York Mayor Declares City over 99% Pure on 1-Year Anniversary!
“Aww, I see you have just been Freed. Congratulations dear. How do you like the colors?” The woman bent her head closer to Tiffany’s face. Her heart hammered in her throat as her eyes were drawn to the woman’s scars. Black lines spider webbed all across her body, down her arms, over her face, and plunged down her low cut shirt. “Aw, I remember when I was freed; I didn’t really have scars either. I found a great doctor who touched me up; I can share his number with you!” She lifted her neck, showing off her scars wrapped around her throat.
“Yes, the colors they’re so…beautiful. Yeah…the doctors said I was one of the lucky ones, guess tough skin runs in the family.” Tiffany tried to laugh as she spoke.
The woman leaned back; her smile somehow widening even more. “Ah! Tragic! Stay safe y’hear? A naughty somebody escaped the hospital recently, ah, there he is now. Isn’t he silly?” She pointed to the distance.
Tiffany turned her head in the direction of her arm. Her heart sank to her stomach.
The street rose in an incline. The distant figure of a man climbed into sight at the crest of the hill. His sandy hair was unmistakable.
Tiffany lifted a trembling hand to her mouth. Jimmy?
Jimmy was naked with blood pouring in rivets all down the front of his torso. As she squinted, she realized that Jimmy’s body wasn't moving; it hung limp, limbs dangling in the air. Her darting eyes widened as she saw his legs hovered off the road.
Four thick tendrils pulsated out of Jimmy’s gaping mouth. The dark trunks spilled out onto the ground, suspending his frame in midair. The shadowy pillars supported his body like makeshift legs. Jimmy lolled back and forth as the inhuman limbs propelled him down the hill like a beast.
Tiffany’s stomach churned in knots as he careened down the street. He couldn’t speak but his bulging eyes darting all around spoke all that was needed. Her gaze adhered to the incomprehensible stalks that moved of their own accord. The tentacles shimmered and writhed all over, smaller tendrils branching off, thrashing independently of one another.
Right as he passed Tiffany, he tripped and skidded to the ground. The husks all around her burst into raucous laughter at the sight of it clamoring back up.
The woman doubled over in giggles. “Ooh, you silly goose, don’t even know what’s good for ya!”
Jimmy’s chest bloated and bubbled. The bulge traveled up his throat, extending it to an inhuman width. A horrid squelching erupted as two pink sacs attached to tubes slithered out of his mouth, traveling along the lengths of the trunks. Tiffany could barely support her own weight at the sight of Jimmy’s lungs pulsating in frantic breaths.
Her horrified gaze watched as the lungs enlarged in a deep breath, a gurgling crescendoing in pitch. They expanded to full size and hung still for an instant. Then exploded in desperate screams.
“HELP ME! PLEASE, I’M ALIVE LIKE YO-”
With the roar of an engine and the screech of tires, a vehicle slammed into Jimmy’s body. A spray of blood rained on Tiffany and the crowd. A white van screeched to a halt just as Jimmy flew through the air, all eight limbs flailing in the wind.
No amount of bracing could prepare Tiffany for the sound of bones crushing as Jimmy landed in a bloody mess on the asphalt. The crowd of husks whooped and hollered. The drivers clambered out of the vehicle and took deep bows, grinning broadly.
Wiping off blood, Tiffany inspected the logo on the van. It displayed two cartoon men each standing on the side of another person. The person was divided into two halves. One side was human with a smiling face while the other was a shadowy figure, screaming in agony. The smiling men each pulled on an arm as if separating the halves.
“Sorry folks! We had a feisty one here, we’ll take care of it from here!” He drew a syringe from his pocket.
“That’s OK! Need a hand?” The woman called back to enthusiastic nods from the crowd. The van driver waved his arm in the direction of Jimmy’s limb body.
Tiffany blinked back burning tears as she watched Jimmy twitch on the ground. The husks closed in around him, laughing as they surrounded him. She wanted nothing more than to just retreat inside and vomit. But an opportunity presented itself.
Streams of people poured out of the shop ahead, drawn to the spectacle on the street. The sidewalks leading up to the store cleared. Her path would never be this open again. Tearing her eyes from Jimmy, she walked as fast as possible to the market, her smile twitching in anguish.
After what felt like hours, she stood at the entrance to the food mart. She moved her jaw around to loosen it, almost flinching as it popped. OK…in and out…then you’re safe. Running over her mental list one last time, she barged inside.
A wave of frigid air washed over her. She scanned the shop, exhaling out a sigh of relief as she confirmed it was mostly empty. Only a mother pushing a stroller joined her in the market.
Tiffany whipped out a shopping cart and sped down aisle by aisle. Eyes darting, she grasped each item on her list as if it were manna from heaven. Her breathing eased as she made it to the other side of the store without incident. A small bit of happiness welled up within her as she looked over her bulging wagon. It was enough to last her two weeks, two blissful weeks of safety. All she had to do was get out.
She strolled to the checkout lane. The mother was in front of her, the groceries crinkling as they were bagged by the cheerful cashier. Tiffany’s knuckles gripped the cart so hard they turned white. Please…just pay and leave…
Tiffany’s heart skipped a beat as the mother twisted her neck to look at her. Empty sockets crinkled as the young woman’s smile widened. “Why hello there! Any idea what the ruckus is out there?” A collective cheer erupted outside in the distance.
Tiffany shook her head, trying to push Jimmy’s battered body out of her thoughts.
She glanced at Tiffany’s cart. “Big haul. You having a party?”
Tiffany nodded, almost forgetting to breathe.
“Am I invited? Where do you live?”
Tiffany gulped. The mother roared with laughter. “Oh dearie me, I’m just kidding you. I’d love to go but this little man down here takes up all my time. Wanna say hi?”
Tiffany nodded again, her cheeks screaming with the strain of her fake smile. The mother lifted the hood of the stroller and wheeled it around, facing Tiffany. An eyeless baby cooed up at her, its sockets nearly taking up half its face. Black scars lined its entire body, lashing its face that carved itself into a wide smile.
Tiffany screamed in terror, flinging herself back.
CLACK!
Light streamed into her eyes as they watered. Time almost stopped as she glanced down at her sunglasses. Shuddering, she looked back up. The mother, baby, and cashier stared at her.
Without taking his sockets off her, the cashier pressed a button on the counter. An intercom crackled to life. “Attention all employees. We have someone in pain over here. Please call the authorities while we restrain her.”
Tiffany threw the cart to the ground, sprinting to the glass double doors. Talon-like fingers dug into her shoulder right as she reached the exit. “NO! PLEASE LET ME GO! PLEASE!”
But the mother just giggled into her ear. “Now why would I do that, sweetie? Don’t worry, we’re going to help you. See? They’re already here to heal you!”
Tiffany’s heart sank into her stomach as she watched the same van that crashed into Jimmy park outside. Two men dressed in scrubs burst out the back, wheeling out a gurney. Her eyes bulged as she gazed at the restraints gleaming cruelly in the morning light.
The smiling men jaunted over to her. Tiffany ground her heel into the mother’s toes; the arms holding her released. She rushed forward to the man on the left, throwing a wild punch in desperation.
To her surprise, her knuckles connected, slamming the man’s head back to its side. Rough hands grabbed her arms by the elbows, jerking them behind her.
The man she’d punched twisted his head back, the unnatural smile still plastered on his face. “Now, now simmer down, young lady. He snatched her kicking feet and lifted her in tandem with the other man.
With inhuman strength, they slammed her onto the gurney. She flailed, straining her limbs against their grasp. Her shoulders popped in their sockets, her screams erupting in pain and fear.
CLICK!
Cold metal clamped down on her right wrist. Three more clicks restrained her completely.
“No, no, no, please! Just let me go! I’ll never bother you again!” Tiffany half screamed and half sobbed.
One man chuckled. “Oops! Gotta make some room!”
She wailed as she watched the men drag Jimmy’s corpse out of the back and toss it on the sidewalk. The doors slammed shut, and the vehicle sped off.
Desperation gave way to despair for Tiffany, she wept bitterly. She gasped as the men wiped away tears on each side of her face. They lifted their fingers to their eyeless pits, staring in wonder at the droplet forming, mouths parted and making soft cooing sounds.
“I remember my last tear, what about you Ted?” The man on her right whispered.
The man on the left nodded, sucking his finger. “Yeah…I almost miss the taste.” They both roared in laughter at the same time.
The van jolted to a halt. The men flung the doors open. “Don’t worry missy, it will all be over soon!”
She shook her head, pleading for anyone she passed to help her as she was wheeled into the hospital. All she received were condescending smiles, and pats on the hand. She was sped into an operating room. Her eyes widened in terror at the sight of the tearing chair.
A medical bed lay in the middle of the chamber. A bar of light hung at the bed’s foot. The bar crossed over the width of the bed, attached to a track that ran along the length from the bottom to the top. Her heart sank. She’d expected cutting instruments but the lack of them frightened her even more.
A grinning doctor finished washing her hands in the nearby sink, pulling latex gloves on. “Oh dearie me, look at this poor soul. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten freed one so large! The gals will take it from here, boys!” The men giggled as they left the room.
Masked women in scrubs burst from the doors to assist. Even behind the masks, their smiles were visible. They all carried scissors. Within seconds, they snipped off all of her clothes leaving her naked in the gurney.
The doctor lifted a syringe, the end dripping with sedative. “Now we need you to be still for this next part sweetie!” She rammed the needle into her hip and thumbed the plunger down. She gasped as the burning liquid clouded into her bloodstream. At once, her extremities deadened, all feeling and control gone.
A pair of arms gripped each of her limbs as she was lifted off the gurney and thrown onto the medical bed. The doctor looked down at her at the foot of the bed, grasping the bar of light. It pulsated in waves of color as she clinked it into place over Tiffany’s feet so that the luminescence only hovered an inch over her skin.
The soles of her feet writhed in agony in the light’s presence. Tiffany screamed at the burning tendrils within her feet. A horrific thought pierced her torment in a single moment of clarity. Something is moving inside me. Using the last vestiges of motor control left, she lifted her head an inch, eyes glued to her feet.
Various ridges rolled around on the tops of her feet, almost as if something flailed to get away from the brilliant light. The doctor traced a finger over the thrashing bulges. “Yes, the time for your last pain draws near, little one. No longer will you torment this young woman. No longer.” She placed both hands on the instrument bar. “Now, I must warn you. This will hurt…more than anything you’ve ever felt in your life. But what awaits you on the other side is…” She laughed.
“Please…” Tiffany whimpered, but the doctor pushed the bar of light up her legs.
Torture. Pure agony. Tiffany screamed to the point she thought her jaw might pop off its hinges. The writhing in her feet intensified, pulling and tearing at her skin…
A spurt of blood spewed over the doctor’s face. “Ah, we’ve crowned!”
“WHAT IS THIS?!” Tiffany screeched as she looked down. Blackened tentacles whipped violently back and forth, sprouting from her feet.
“Oh, it’s the sickness my sweet…it must be purged. Deep breath and here we go!” She pushed the bar of light even further along its track, this time going up her legs.
Molten lines of agony traced themselves up her legs in tandem with the glow. Tiffany’s eyes rolled up into her head and then back down again, casting her world in revolving darkness and light. The skin at her legs tore, thicker tendrils bursting out in viscous spray.
The dark veins slapped at the doctor's face but a smiling nurse grasped the flailing trunks and pinned them down as the doctor pressed on above her knees and up her thighs. Her skin bubbled and burst as the bleeding mass on each limb fled from the light. Tiffany stared transfixed at the monster birthed from her, the spindly body, the erratic, desperate movement of a trapped beast.
The bar stopped just below her groin. “This is probably the worst part dearie, brace yourself.’ She yanked it forward, up to her abdomen.
Tiffany’s voice tore, her throat bleeding raw. She’s never given birth before; the monster springing out from her womanhood made a poor substitute for a child.
“There you go baby. You’re doing so well. Halfway done!”
The instrument slid up her stomach, passing over her arms. The sickness within gripped her organs in a vain attempt to resist being torn out. Strands of obsidian wrested themselves out of her torso only to be collected and restrained by the unflinching nurses. Up her body they all went, up her chest, her shoulders, and on to her neck.
Right at the base of her chin, the bar of light chinked as it came to the end of its track. The beast within Tiffany screeched, straining at the nurses restraints. Forgetting the pain for an instant, Tiffany croaked through torn vocal chords. “What is this thing?”
The doctor wiped blood out of her sockets. “It’s your parasite, what you thought you were. I know it hurts; this thing feeds off pain. Don’t worry. We’re almost done.”
She pivoted two smaller bars of lights up to Tiffany’s head, one on each side. They swung in such a way that they would meet in the middle. Her eyes swiveled independently of each other, as if they too feared the light. The doctor smiled at the erratic movement.
“Oh, yes.” She whispered. “Feel fear. It’s what you deserve; it’s all you deserve.” She grasped each bar and clamped them together.
Blinding pressure built up in Tiffany’s eardrums as if she were being stabbed in each ear with knives aching to meet in the middle. An incessant ringing tingled, building up pitch and intensity until it was all she could hear. Her brain lit aflame, seething at the burning from the sound. “MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!” Her mouth uttered the words, but she couldn’t hear her voice anymore.
Like a cord being unplugged from a speaker, her world fell silent one pull at a time. Black tendrils whipped in her sight as the beast fled from her ear canals. The lights passed in her vision.
The doctor spoke unheard words. She tried to close her eyes, but they weren’t hers anymore. They swiveled all about in their sockets, trying to escape her skull.
But there was no escape, not for a parasite. The lights slammed shut, meeting in the middle right over her. The kaleidoscope of luminescence overtook everything. Her world melded to an ever changing sea of merging lights.
Her thoughts, her consciousness, her very essence whirled in her brain. A dark hole sprouted in her psyche. Her being swirled around the murky depths of her existence spinning to the choreography of the lights pulse. Round and round it went until she thought her last words. Who am I? All grew dark.
—---------
The operating room light blinded Tiffany. She tried to close her eyes but found she had no lids.
She saw the metal tray she lay on.
She saw the black, spindly lengths of her body laying in a tangled heap in the tray.
She saw Tiffany laying on the medical table. What?
Her psyche ran stark with shock as she watched herself sit up from the medical table. Her eyes were gone, replaced with two glowing pits burning in deep sockets. Blood trails criss crossed all over her venous scars. Tears of crimson flowed from her pits as she sobbed into her hands.
No…that’s me? But then…who am I?
She glanced up and received her horrifying answer. An operating mirror hung on the ceiling above her. What she had once thought as herself was now nothing more than a pair of eyeballs attached to a spinal stem with nervous branches tangled and heaped in a small tray.
She was the parasite.
The real Tiffany sobbed, a wide smile stretching across her face. “Colors…so many colors…”
The doctor handed her a pair of sunglasses. “Here, put these on and keep them on for the next couple of weeks. The parasites could only see a thin spectrum of light. You can see all of it now, it’s a bit overwhelming at first but you get used to it.”
The real Tiffany placed the sunglasses on her face then clutched at her chest. “What….what is this feeling? It burns yet…it’s warm all over..”
The doctor knelt at the real Tiffany’s side. “It’s happiness…” She giggled. “Pure happiness, it’s what that parasite over there denied you.” The doctor shot a glare to the nerve bundle that used to be Tiffany.
The real Tiffany released her chest. “How long has it been inside of me?”
The doctor stood up. “We aren’t sure when these parasites fused with humans but it must have been millennia ago. They have been entwined with us so long we even once thought they were part of our bodies. The nervous system, what a cruel joke. These things thrive off of our happiness and only feed us pain in return.”
The doctor shot the nerve bundle a look. Even though she smiled, Tiffany could feel the doctor’s contempt radiating. “Look how pathetic it is. Can’t even move anymore. These things rely on our central brain systems to move. Once separated, they are immobile. It’s rather ironic that they only try to move as we cut into their feeding supply.”
The real Tiffany hugged the doctor who returned the embrace. “Thank you…for freeing me.” The doctor rubbed her back.
They released each other. The real Tiffany looked over at the nerve bundle that used to be her. “What do we do with…it?”
The doctor grasped the nerve bundle unceremoniously in her palm. Wait…no! I’m-I’m me!
“We will cast her into the depths to which she came from of course!” The doctor laughed as she brought the nerve bundle to a trash chute. The nerve bundle glanced down, recoiling in horror. No light graced her final destination.
“Good riddance.” The nerve bundle was released and cast into the void. It landed with a plop amongst the other writhing bundles, rueing the day it ever thought it truly existed.

Book report guy back, with the Bryan Danielson book from 2014 and it has some fun backstage stories from his time in WWE!
Solid wrestling book, though not super memorable in my opinion. Some solid detail and dirt like you expect, but honestly it felt like he was holding back.
As always, it's in chronological order as best as I could do that. Hope y'all enjoy!
Bryan is a weird dude, while describing his adolescence, he casually says that he has a lot of weird hypothesis on various subjects, and we should ask Nigel McGuinness about Bryan's theory on how a penis grows. He doesn't expand on this more. He just says that and moves back to talking about his childhood.
Bryan rants a bit about how modern medicine has stunted human evolution because kids who would have died off got to live and reproduce and pass their "defects" onto the next generation. He says that he is one of those defects, sick all his childhood and sick a lot as an adult. He says that his wife Brie is also a "defect" but says she can share the details in her own book if she ever writes one.
When Bryan was 16 years old, he contacted Dean Melanko's wrestling school and was told it would cost him $2,500, but he needed a $500 deposit to secure his spot. Bryan was scared that there were hundreds of people on the waiting list and worked extra shifts at McDonald's in order to get the cash together asap. He put $500 deposit down for a wrestling school he couldn't go to for 2 more years.
Three months before Bryan graduated high school, the Melanko Wrestling School contacted to inform Bryan that the school was shutting down permanently. When Bryan asked for his $500 back, he was told that they no longer had it and that he was SOL.
While watching Monday Night RAW, an ad flashed advertising a 900 number (an old pay-per-minute phone concept that was always a money drain on the caller), and it advertised Shawn Michaels opening up a wrestling school. After an expensive phone call, Bryan was told to pay $20 more for a package to be mailed to him with more info. He did, and when he got the package, it detailed how Michaels wrestling school would cost $3,900 dollars, and it had another 900 number to call if you're interested. Bryan was demoralized and almost didn't call. When he did, though, he was speaking to Shawm Michaels mom, who was helping Shawn run it. Bryan's mom ended up doing all the talking, and the two mothers helped Bryan get set up with a place in San Antonio where the school was. They agreed to let Bryan pay monthly to help him with the finances.
Bryan's first day of wrestling school went exactly like everyone else's first day of wrestling school, with 90% of the students gassed and vomiting. Bryan said out of the 10 guys there, only he and Lance Cade didn't end up vomiting.
Bryan remembers how much Shawn Michaels prioritized his training to Lance Cade. One of the first days, Lance did a basic jump and got so much air that Michaels loudly proclaimed, "I smell money!"
Even though it was Shawn's school, the primary instructor was Rudy Boy Gonzales, a pretty insignificant wrestler from the 80s and 90s. Bryan puts over Rudy as a passionate trainer who motivated him to try harder. Bryan said Rudy would show Bryan anything Bryan saw on a tape and wanted to try.
Bryan says that he and "The" Brian Kendrick became friends immediately as they were both around the same size in the training and had the same level of passion for wrestling.
I always heard that Shawn Michaels wasn't very present for this school, but Bryan tells a different tale, putting Shawn over as someone who was always around and always showing them how to be better.
Bryan does remember some days that Shawn would come in with his sunglasses on, sit at the back of the class, and then dip out early. Bryan didn't realize then that Shawn was in deep with a bad painkiller addiction, and so some days he wasn't as present. Since Bryan grew up with his dad's addiction issues, Bryan says seeing Shawn actually kick the addiction fully put Shawn on a pedestal in Bryan's eyes.
After a couple of months, Shawn was telling the students to start thinking of ring names, and when Bryan couldn't come up with one, he asked Shawn about using his real name. Shawn thought about it for a second before adding "The American Dragon" to it. When Bryan asked why that name, Shawn said it's because Bryan wrestled like a Japanese guy. Bryan took that as a massive compliment.
Bryan didn't tell Shawn, but Bryan initially hated "The American Dragon" name.
Bryan had trouble being expressive and emoting in the ring, so Shawn had him wrestle under a mask.
On October 4th, 1999, Bryan wrestled his first ever match for Shawn Michaels' small promotion, Texas Wrestling Alliance. His opponent was Brian Kendrick (then known as Spanky), and Bryan says as rotton as it was, everyone in the back was super excited for their performance, including Shawn.
Bryan confirms that Kendrick called himself "Spanky" as a masturbation reference.
Shawn arranged for Bryan and Lance Cade to head over to Japan and wrestle for Frontier Martial Arts Wrestling, a bit of a "mudshow" wrestling promotion. Shawn got Bryan and Lance a spot on their card by agreeing to referee a match for the company.
Bryan remembers seeing one guy shove a bottle rocket up his opponents butt and light it off at that FMW show. So yeah, some pretty outlaw stuff.
Bryan describes attempting a moonsalt to the outside of the ring during this Japan tour, but he slipped and cracked his head on the cement. Bryan says, "When I came to, I didn't even know where I was" before describing how he stumbled his way through the match. He notes how concussions have always been a problem for him.
Lance Cade was invited back to FMW later for a 2nd tour, but they didn't ask for Bryan back. That's when Bryan realized that at his size, he needs to get much, much better.
In February 2000, HBK got Bryan, Lance Cade, Brian Kendrick, and another student named Shooter Shultz, a dark match on an episode of Smackdown. He says they planned for a 15-minute tag match before being told last minute that it's been cut down to 6 minutes. Bryan says HBK went and yelled at some people about "his guys" until he got it bumped up to 10 minutes.
Bryan says he got his first documented concussion that match, because they weren't used to a literal ramp, and Bryan cracked his skull on it, doing a pointless dive. He says the WWE doctor backstage told him to just make sure he doesn't fall asleep.
Bryan says when they got backstage after their match, HBK was excited and pumping them up, telling everyone backstage that they should sign all 4 guys immediately. This was on Tuesday, and by Thursday, when WWE still hadn't contacted them, Shawn called them up and threatened to take the 4 to WCW where Kevin Nash would make sure they were signed. Bryan says WWE quickly offered all 4 guys developmental contracts for $500 per week. Bryan says HBK was a great guy to have in your corner.
Shortly after getting the developmental contract, Bryan and Kendrick wrestled a main event ladder match for Shawn's TWA promotion. At the time, Bryan believed that in order to stand out, he would need to wrestle a more daredevil style, so he did some dumb stuff in this match. He did some ridiculous spot that ended with Bryan separating his shoulder. After the match, he took a table bump that legitimately knocked him unconscious for a full minute.
A week or 2 later, the teams had a rematch in a steel cage where all 4 agreed to blade for the first time. Why is he doing this dumb shit right after being offered a WWE contract?
Bryan says those ladder and cage matches made him realize he needed to change his style up and become more mat based. He wouldn't have had a long career if he kept getting hurt. At this point, Bryan has only been wrestling for 6 or 8 months and already suffered maybe 3 concussions. At least 2 for sure.
Bryan Danielson, Lance Cade, Brian Kendrick, and Shooter Shultz all moved to Memphis, where WWE's development primarily opperated out of at the time. William Regal was also a developmental system at the time, trying to show he had kicked his addiction issues.
Memphis Championship Wrestling was the territory they wrestled for, and Bryan remembers wrestling in all sorts of crazy locations like a WalMart parking lot once.
Although Shawn eventually took the mask off Bryan in TWA, the guys at MCW immediately put the mask back on Bryan.
The only time Bryan thought he might get called up to the main roster was in January 2001, when he heard rumors that WWE wanted to start up a cruiserweight division and use Danielson and Kendrick That didn't happen, though, and Bryan never heard another rumor or wiff of him being called up.
In June 2001, someone from WWE talent relations came down to evaluate talent. Brian was let go and told that despite his talent, they just had no plans for him.
In October 2001, Bryan was offered a spot in California based All Pro Wrestling's annual King Of The Indies tournament. Danielson would beat Kendrick in the first round, and after the show, Nick Bockwinkle, who was there watching, loudly told promoter Roland Alexander, "If you don't put that guy over." Bockwinkle said while pointing directly at Bryan, "You're crazy!"
APW head trainer Donovan Morgan was scheduled to beat Bryan in the second round and go on to win the tournament, but promoter Roland made the call to have Bryan win instead.
Bryan says this that while this really pissed Donovan off, what really upset the guy was when Roland offered Danielson and Kendrick trainer positions alongside Donovan.
Kendrick turned the offer down, but Bryan took it and moved to California in January 2002, where he became the head trainer. Though Bryan says he was a lousy trainer and no good at motivating anyone.
On February 2002, Bryan sat down with Gabe Sapolsky, who, after being inspired by the Super 8 tournament Bryan won, wanted Bryan part of his new promotion, Ring of Honor.
Bryan remembers both William Regal and John Laurinaitis said they would try to get Bryan an in to Japan, but both came up short, and both eventually stopped returning Bryan's calls.
In March 2002, Bryan Danielson, Christopher Daniels, and Brian Kendrick got a tryout with New Japan in Santa Monica. Antonio Inoki was actually there to oversee, but he literally had his back turned to the ring while Danielson and Kendrick wrestled. Inoki never bothered to turn around and watch them, instead watching someone stretch, Bryan says. Bryan later heard that New Japan never intended to hire anyone. They just wanted their dojo to look full for press.
After the "tryout," Bryan says that Inoki fell and had to be helped up by a bunch of people. Only the three of them didn't get up to help, with Kendrick saying loudly, "serves the motherfucker right."
Bryan kept making trips to the Santa Monica dojo every couple of weeks until Shinya "Togi" Makabe told him that if Bryan really wanted to be taken seriously, he had to be at the dojo every single day. Bryan took the advice seriously, quit his training job and moved to Santa Monica.
Bryan says he was offered to come tour with New Japan after only training at the dojo full time a few weeks. It was on this tour where Bryan first wrestled in the Tokyo Dome.
In May 2003, Bryan wrestled another Tokyo Dome show, where Bryan, Rocky Romero and TJ Perkins were all pulled aside in the hotel after the show, by Justin Cully. Cully literally slapped each man across the face, saying the slaps are from Inoki, who was disappointed in their proformances that night. Apparently Inoki expected them to wrestle more of a shoot style fight and was very upset.
In March 2004, Bryan won his first title with New Japan, the IWGP Junior Tag titles with Christopher Daniels, and Bryan would spend the majority of the year with New Japan where he wrestled 8 different tours.
Bryan pitched a 3 hour long match to Gabe Sapolsky for a ROH show and is disappointed they didn't go the full 3 hours.
Going into 2005, Bryan expected to wrestle his whole career in New Japan, but was startled when New Japan didn't get his visa renewed for the January tour like they always do. He was told it was a mistake and he would be back for March tour, but again he was told last minute they didn't have a visa for him. In May they contacted him last minute inviting him for a tour, but at a ridiculous pay cut down to $500 per week. Bryan turned the offer down and never went back to that Santa Monica dojo or work for New Japan again. He later heard that he was used as a pawn in a power struggle with the Dojo and New Japan.
In mid-2005 Bryan got an email from CM-Punk about a rumor suggesting that both WWE and TNA were interested in Bryan, Punk and Samoa Joe. Joe would quickly sign with TNA after this and Punk took a developmental deal with WWE. Bryan never heard from either company, and a few months later Gabe Sapolsky told Bryan he wanted to build ROH around Bryan but wanted a promise that Bryan wouldn't just leave to WWE or TNA. Great timing Gabe, because Bryan immediately said yes.
After winning the ROH World title in September 2005, Bryan says his title reign was falling flat until he started being cocky and cutting those "best in the world" promos. Bryan even shades Jericho and Punk a little by saying at the time no one else was saying it and that's why it worked so well for him.
Bryan puts over his matches with Nigel McGuinness in summer of 2006, but points out one in particular he regrets. Nigel had the idea for Bryan to pull Nigel's face into the steel ring post 3 times to get real blood. After 3 attempts and no blood, Nigel yelled, "One more time!" They got blood on the 4th time, and gave Nigel a severe concussion.
Five minutes into an hour long match with Colt Cabana in August 2006, Bryan landed bad on the outside of the ring, where he separated that same right shoulder as before and tore two tendons.
Three weeks later, Bryan defended his ROH title against KENTA of all people, who legitimately targeted his hurt shoulder all match. Then Bryan went to tour Japan with Pro Wrestling Noah where he and KENTA had a rematch.
Bryan would finally drop the ROH title in December 2006 and then take nearly 4 months off. This is the first time he took off since he started wrestling in 1999.
After doing a tour of Japan with Pro Wrestling Noah in April 2007, Bryan was excited to come back to ROH and signed a 2 year contract.
In June 2007, Bryan and Nigel wrestled an extremely physical match that featured a spot where the two traded headbutts. The match didn't air until September that year and in the mean time, the Chris Benoit double murdesuicide happened and the talk of concussions and safety concerns changed completely. The match was not recieved well and Gabe later told Bryan that they shouldn't have aired it at all.
ROH struggled after the Benoit incident and most everyone had to adapt and tone down their styles. Bryan wasn't one of those people, and actually refused to tone down his style. Later in 2007 he would rupture his ear drum exchanging open palm strikes with KENTA and he would suffer a detached retina in a match with Takeshi Morishima. To this day, he has trouble hearing from his left ear and has trouble with vision.
Bryan remembers being super late for a show and not even being able to meet his opponent beforehand. To Bryan's suprise, his opponent, who despite being green, was great to work with and the two had good chemistry. That was a young Jon Moxley.
In Summer of 2008, Shawn Michaels was fueding with Chris Jericho and they incorporated Lamce Cade on Jericho's side, since Shawn trained Lance. Shawn actually reached out to Bryan about also joining the WWE and being involved in the story.
Bryan met with Vince McMahon and remembers how taken back Vince seemed when they first met, and thinks it was because of Bryan's size and how plain he looked. Bryan also didn't sell himself well in the meeting, saying he is "just okay." Head of talent relations John Laurinaitis told Bryan that they would call him, but he never did.
When Bryan returned from a Japan tour in October 2008, he was shocked to find Gabe Sapolsky had been fired by ROH and replaced by Adam Pearce. Bryan details that while Gabe liked to book long shows with everyone on the card trying their hardest to steal the show, Pearce booked shorter shows and had the lower card guys preform well, but not to try everything under the sun to outshine the main event. You can see why Jim Cornette and Adam Pearce get along so well.
Bryan notes how he was fueding with Claudio Castignoli when Gabe was fired, but Pearce immediately ended that program to which Bryan says he and Claudio were disappointed.
After another failed attempt to get into WWE I'm early 2009, Bryan refocused his energies by moving to Las Vegas where he started training in kick boxing and other forms of mixed martial arts.
Bryan trained religiously for months under a former MMA fighter Neil Melanson. Neil is the one who taught Bryan the LaBell Lock.
When Bryan's ROH contract expired in May 2009, he called John Laurinaitis and left a message, but never heard back.
Bryan says in mid-2009, he was talking to Gabe Sapolsky about starting up a new promotion that would become Evolve. Bryan says that Paul Heyman was even involved with these talks.
Brian Kendrick called Danielson up to pitch Danielson coming to WWE as Kendrick's tag partner. Danielson even went and filmed a bunch of promos with Kendrick and fel optimistic. Unfortunately, Kendrick was fired just a few weeks later before any of those vignets aired and that opportunity was gone as well.
Bryan had given up ever going to WWE when John Laurinaitis called him in September 2009 offering him a main roster contract. Bryan was so excited he didn't have to go to developmental, that he would be right on the main roster immediately. Or so he thought, I guess they didn't bother telling Brilyan about NXT at that time, even though it sounds like he was signed with that in mind.
Nigel was also signed at the same time (probably also meant for NXT) but before either man could start, they had to pass WWE medical tests. They asked them both about past injuries, and Bryan just lied, saying he never had anything wrong and was fine. Didn't mention his shoulder being separated twice, or the detached retina, or any concussion. Nigel on the other hand, was very honest about his injuries, including a torn bicep that he didn't get worked on, he just rehabbed it. Nigel figured he was a lock and didn't see the need to lie.
WWE was concerned about Bryan's elevated liver enzymes, and wanted Nigel to get surgery on his bicep before they would sign him. Both guys were wrestling a farewell tour with ROH and both genuinely concerned they wouldn't actually be leaving. In their last match for ROH, Bryan accidentally gave Nigel a concussion, because apparently these guys only know how to wrestle at one speed!
Nigel couldn't afford the bicep surgery and his own doctor was telling him he is fine, so Nigel went to TNA instead. Nigel would only wrestle for another year before his body would break down too far on him and he would retire.
Bryan signed his WWE contract on October 2nd, 2009, nearly 10 years to the day of his debut match. William Regal actually told Bryan, "Your wrestling career came before this and is over now. Anything else that happens now is a bonus."
William Regal came up with the name "Daniel Bryan" for Bryan to use in WWE. Brian tried arguing to Laurinaitis to use his real name and citing John Cena as an example, Laurinaitis simply told Bryan, "We don't do that anymore."
In early 2010, Bryan and seven other guys were told one day about the NXT concept and how they would be used. Bryan found out who his NXT "pro" would be just like everyone else, when WWE posted it on their website. Bryan initially legit wanted Regal as his "pro" but soon realized being paired with Miz gives him a story immediately.
Bryan describes his time in NXT as the most unusual of his career. The "rookies" all legitimately didn't know what was going to happen on any show and everything they did was 100% unscripted and improvised.
The first night in NXT, all the "rookies" were told 15 minutes before the show, that their "pro" would cut a promo on them and they needed to react accordingly. Bryan had no idea that his pro, the Miz was going to tell him to head to the ring and cut a promo on himself, literally telling him on live TV to make the fans care about him. Bryan had no idea what to say, no real direction he was given to go in, and no tome to plan or rehearse. Miz also told him to come up with a catchphrase, and Bryan said he always hated catch phrases.
In the ring, Bryan cut a generic promo where he said he lost his train of thought and was super greatful when The Miz came out to finish the promo off. Bryan didn't know that would happen and Bryan definitely didn't know Miz was going to slap him at the end. Bryan says that later, The Miz confided to Bryan that he was worried Bryan would try to fight him over the slap.
Bryan credits Chris Jericho for getting him over in his first WWE match, and says that neither he, nor Miz knew that Miz was to beat up Brian after the match. Apparently, Miz was informed during the Jericho/Bryan match that he was to attack Bryan after the finish. Wild how much "flying by the seat of their pants" that WWE did with early NXT.
After the show, Jericho told Bryan that Vince was impressed, though he noted how Vince said, "Ugh, but he doesn't even eat meat!"
Bryan describes promo class with Vince as kinda insane to be honest. One time Bryan accidentally spilled a water bottle, and Vince asked everyone how that made them feel about Bryan. Stuff like that.
Bryan says the NXT rookies weren't allowed to use the regular dressing room and had to use some tarped off part of the backstage area.
Bryan notes how most of the NXT season, the NXT rookies never really knew what was going to happen. The 2nd week Bryan lost to Wade Barret and wasn't told that Chris Jericho would be attacking him after the match.
Bryan says his initial storyline with The Miz wasn't a losing streak idea, but something where each loss had meaning and was being built with purpose. Miz was very hands on with each show and helped to put over Bryan and the storyline, but when Miz missed 2 weeks in a row, the producers left in charge basically just turned it into a losing streak storyline, which Bryan says, "never works."
One time on a plane, Ezekiel Jackson asked "which rookie has an isle seat?" Bryan raised his had and Ezekiel said, "Not anymore." Bryan stood his ground and refused, offering his seat to anyone but Ezekiel. Ezekiel got pissed but William Regal came over and chastised Jackson, saying Bryan is like a son to him and how Bryan has more talent in his pinky ginger than Jackson has in his whole body.
Bryan says the NXT "Pros Polls" were legitimate voting done by the pros. That's why Bryan ended up in first place, despite losing every match.
A week after Wrestlemania in 2010, NXT's direction and purpose shifted away from being serious to silly, and Bryan says they were suddenly doing dumb game show competitions and putting over how demoralizing it was.
Bryan says Skip Shepfield (Ryback) was the only rookie taking the competitions seriously and trying to win each game. Sounds on brand for the big guy.
Bryan says he was trying to be humble when asked who should be eliminated and he said himself. He figured since he lost to everyone he didn't have a right to say any of them. Backstage Miz told him he made a mistake and shouldn't have put that perception out there.
A week later they liked the rookies up on TV (an hour before it goes live) and informed Bryan and fellow rookie Michael Tarver that they are both eliminated, without telling them beforehand. Bryan felt this validated all the warnings guys like Colt Cabana and other gave him about WWE.
Right after Matt Striker interviewed him backstage and when asked an insulting question, Bryan snapped and started talking down about "Daniel Bryan" and started to put over "Bryan Danielson!" Bryan says he could hear Vince screaming into Striker's ear piece and apparently Vince threw his headset when Bryan said his real name.
They made Bryan retape the interview without saying that, but still aired his original interview.
Bryan was surprisingly called back to NXT the following week to start a rivalry with Micheal Cole, who had been verbally obliterating Bryan on commentary since Bryan debuted. Bryan seems to be greatful for that program since it kept him on tv and made him confident that he would keep his job.
The RAW after NXT season 1 ended, all the rookies were pulled into Vince's office and told about Nexus and the attack in the main event. They were told not to tell anyone or else they will be fired. Bryan says he even lied to William Regal, when asked why he was dressed to wrestle.
They were supposed to attack John Cena and Rey Mysterio in the main event, because WWE let the fans vote on Cena's opponent and they assumed Rey would get it. Surprisingly it was CM Punk, and Bryan isn't sure how much Punk was told about the angle.
Bryan legit choked Justin Roberts during the melee, leaving red marks on his skin with his tie. Bryan said he doesn't trust non-wrestlers to sell good so he did it for real, with Justin going purple on Tv. Later during the brawl, Bryan was grabbing a cable to choke someone else when a cameraman told him "no choking!" Bryan does note that he thinks Justin Roberts found it pretty cool to be involved. And later Heath Slater grabbed the dismantled ring ropes to choke Cena, but Cena told him as well, "No choking."
Cena told Bryan before the angle, "It's not the hit you do that's important, it's what you do before the hit that matters." This is why Bryan spit in Cena's face before kicking him in the head.
Backstage, Bryan was reprimanded twice, for choking and spitting. Two days later Vince McMahon personally called Bryan to tell him he was let go and apologized to Bryan for it. Bryan, arrogant as all hell, responded with, "Don't apologize, I'll make more money this year on the independents than I would have working for you."
Bryan called John Laurinaitis to clear up details and Laurinaitis was shocked to hear Bryan was fired. Apparently Vince didn't tell anyone, just called Laurinaitis up and asked for Bryan's number. The comment Bryan made about money seemed to get to Vince since Laurinaitis called Bryan back and asked about it. Laurinaitis actually told Bryan that he can start working independent dates immediately if he wasn't on TV.
After working several shows and making good money off merchandise for several weeks, Bryan was shocked when John Laurinaitis called him in August and asked him to come back for a big angle leading into SummerSlam. Bryan sheepishly asked for a raise and made sure he could make all his already planned independent bookings.
Bryan says Nexas should have won at SummerSlam, noting how they went from dangerous to jobbers in one night.
Bryan remembers a taped RAW after SummerSlam where he did an angle with The Miz. When he got backstage Vince was so mad at how it came off that he made Bryan and others go back out there and do it again. It was the first time Bryan ever had to redo something like that and he said he felt humiliated.
Bryan didnt seem to see much value in being US Champion outside of how it would keep him on tv and maybe monthly ppv matches.
At Hell in a Cell 2010 ppv, Bryan had a good match with Miz and John Morrison, but was scolded after that match for a spot where Bryan threw Miz's stoog Alex Riley off the stage where he landed on cameraman. They showed the two guys the footage and accused them of doing it on purpose to get themselves over. Bryan started regretting coming back and really hating his time in WWE.
Bryan was paired with the Bella Twins in a storyline he hated, that was based on the Twins confusing the word "vegan" for "virgin" and competing to sleep with Bryan. Despite how bad that storyline was, Bryan and Brie would develop a relationship and would start dating in February 2011.
Sheamus was given a choice of Wrestlemania opponents that year between Rey Mysterio and Daniel Bryan, and Sheamus chose Bryan. Bryan was greatful but concerned Sheamus chose wrong and their match would be cut but Sheamus wasn't worried at all. A week before Mania they were informed their match was on the pre-show at a meeting with literally every other wrestler. Bryan says Sheamus buried his face in his hands and remembers how Rey Mysterio got on the card in a match with Cody Rhodes. Bryan says Sheamus picked the wrong guy.
Bryan got some details in his book messed up where he talks about Miz winning the WWE title off Cena at Wrestlemania 27 and he talks about how Miz was WWE Champion going into Over The Limit ppv 2011, but Miz lost the title by then. It's notable because he says he pitched hard for a "Rocky style" storyline where he would challenge Miz for the WWE title at the Over The Limit ppv.
Bryan says the 2011 Smackdown Money in the Bank winner wasn't decided until the day of the show but it was always between Wade Barret, Cody Rhodes and Bryan. He says despite winning the briefcase, his tv time tricked down and eventually he was spending weeks off tv, until he was randomly inserted into the World title program between Mark Henry and Big Show in late 2011.
Bryan was being left at home and off shows, even watching Survivor Series 2011 from home and was suprised when WWE had him come to the December TLC ppv show, last minute. The day of the show he was told he was cashing in and winning the title and the only direction Vince McMahon gave him was to act like he won the superbowl, so that's where Bryan's over the top celebration came from. He didn't even tell his girlfriend Brie Bella about the plan and says she was shocked when he came backstage afterwards.
The only direction Vince gave Bryan as champion is to celebrate every appearance like he won the lottery, saying, "there is no too over the top here."
Bryan said he adapted his "Yes" chants from MMA fighter Diego Sanchez who was celebrating in a similar way at the time.
Bryan's favorite moment from that first world title run was the closing sequence in the 2012 Elimination Chamber match with him and Santino Marella.
Bryan originally expected he and Sheamus to get 15 minutes or so at Wrestlemania for their match, but was shocked when Chris Jericho told him he heard it would be 8 minutes, including the pre & post match stuff. A week later Arn Anderson confirmed to Bryan that he would lose a 1-move match, dropping the world title to Sheamus at Wrestlemania that year. Bryan and Sheamus were both pissed, to say the least.
Sheamus expressed concern that the short match would turn fans against him as a new champion. Smart man.
Bryan says a bunch of guys came up to him after his Mania loss and were pissed at what they did to Bryan out there. Great Khali even came up and told Bryan that it was bullshit in his broken English.
Originally Sheamus was planned to move into a fued with Alberto Del-rio right after Mania, but the crazy crowd support for Bryan forced them to extend they story another month. Bryan says his Extreme Rules ppv match with Sheamus in 2012 is one of his favorites. Mine too!
Bryan acknowledged the weird booking of Punk as champion in 2012, noting how heels would face John Cena, lose, then be sent to face Punk with no momentum. Interesting take on the situation.
Bryan mentions how when he and Punk fueded in 2012, they never got main event spots outside of non-televised events. One time at a house show, Bryan and Punk veered too far into comedy and after the match John Cena chastised Bryan by pointing out that they didn't wrestle a "main event style" match. Apparently the next house show, Cena was moved into the main event spot with Punk/Bryan being before the intermission. An enraged Punk went and yelled at people until he got his main event spot back. This time, no comedy spots were done and they stayed the main event for the circuit.
Bryan had brand new, edgier gear made up prior to Money in the Bank 2012 and didn't tell anyone backstage. He wore shorts over his trunk and hid the jacket until he had to go out. When he got to the ring, the ref told him to lose the jacket, because I guess Vince was in gorilla position freaking out over how Bryan looked. Dean Melanko was the producer for the match, and Bryan felt bad when Vince blamed him for allowing Bryan to wear it.
Bryan was originally planned to wrestle Charlie Sheen at SummerSlam 2012 in a celebrity match, but Charlie "bailed" as Bryan put it.
Bryan was trying to be "Mr Small Package" by winning matches with Small Package and then boasting about how he has an "inescapable small package!" It didn't get over.
Bryan thought his anger management vignets with Kane and Dr Shelby were going to be terrible.
The only reason they stopped using Dr Shelby is because he had limited days off from his regular teaching job.
Bryan and Kane really wanted their team name to be "Team Friendship" and they even had shirt ideas but Vince let the fans vote and he always kept those votes legit, so their team name was "Team Hell No" which Bryan brings up a good point about. He said as a team primarily appealing to kids, a name with "Hell" in it would be hard to sell merchandise to those kids.
The plan was to break up their team so they could have a good heated fued together, but they were so popular that they kept teaming for 9 months.
Bryan says his first good Wrestlemania experience was in 2013 when he teamed with Kane.
One night after Mania in 2013, when Bryan tagged with Kane and Undertaker to face The Shield, Vince McMahon told Bryan that he would pay him several thousand dollars if he could get Undertaker to hug Bryan in the ring. After the show Bryan got on the mic and tried his hardest to get the hug but couldn't quite do it.
Bryan says that both he and Kane agree that teaming together was some of the most fun in either man's career.
Bryan was scheduled to win the biggest match of his career up to that point, he would be beating Randy Orton clean on RAW. Bryan would botch a dive that left both arms nunb and him unable to stand. He got feeling back in one arm but eventually the doctor called the match off. Backstage Bryan started screaming at Triple H for calling the match and called him a hypocrite for doing so, citing his own injuries in matches. At one point Orton tried to calm Bryan down, but Bryan snapped at him and Orton started yelling too. Brie got Bryan away to calm down, but when Vince came to talk to Bryan, the shouting started again. Much later, William Regal advised Bryan to apologize to both Vince and Triple H, to which Bryan took his advice. The next week, Bryan would get his win over Orton and he says that that drama over everything made that win matter more.
An MRI showed that one of Bryan's disks was pushing into his nerves and eventually he would need surgery. With his momentum starting to rise, Bryan opted to put surgery off.
John Cena pitched facing Daniel Bryan at Money in the Bank 2013 ppv. When Vince asked why, Cena said because it's the biggest match they could do at that time. Vince ended up agreeing, but deciding that it belongs at SummerSlam that year instead!
As proud as Bryan is of the build to and match with Cena at SummerSlam, he acknowledges that the ppv didn't do good numbers, nor did the house show business the following 2 months when Bryan was the main protagonist. He thinks a lot the the Authority promos on him stemmed from some truth.
Bryan isn't satisfied with the quality of matches he was putting out in the latter half of 2013 amd he specifically calls out the series of bad finishes he had with Randy Orton in ppv main events. From the fast counting crooked ref, to that terrible one with Big Show knocking everyone out, and then to Shawn Michaels betraying Bryan at Hell in a Cell ppv.
Bryan initially thought he was getting a Wrestlemania match with Shawn Michaels after that Hell in a Cell finish, but after talking with HBK, it was clear that was never in the cards.
Bryan feels he failed as a main eventer in the 2nd half of 2013, regardless of match quality. He didn't move business and that's all that matters.
The Slammy's were fan votes and Vince didn't think Bryan would win and almost laughed when Bryan asked him what he should say if he does win. Vince said, "whatever you want." I wish I could have seen Vince's face when Bryan won later that night.
When Bryan started fueding with Wyatt Family in late-2013, Bryan was pitching for him to be "brainwashed" and join the group. He suspects that his rising popularity in early 2014 is what convinced WWE to have Bryan turn on Bray and leave the group. At the time, Bryan was hoping to stay with the group and be involved in the planned Cena/Wyatt Wrestlemania program since Bryan had no plans for Mania at that time.
Bryan says he was disappointed when Vince told him he would be facing Sheamus again at Wrestlemania 2014. No disrespect to Sheamus, but Bryan felt he belonged in a higher spot.
Bryan felt bad for the way Rey Mysterio was boo'd at the 2014 Royal Rumble.
When Punk quit WWE after Rumble that year, Bryan remembers how plans didn't change too much for a few weeks, and he assumes Vince expected Punk to come back and for Batista to win the crowds over, and neither happened.
Triple H was being vocal about wanting to face Bryan at Mania that year, but Bryan was trying to not get his hopes up since he had seen Triple H try and fail to get his ideas on screen.
Bryan and Brie only agreed to let Total Divas shoot their wedding, because Total Divas agreed to pay for the whole wedding! Hard to say no to that!
Bryan is very satisfied with his matches at Wrestlemania 30 and says he was so focused between matches that he missed Undertaker losing to Lesnar. He heard the ring bell and looked up at the monitor in shock. He says they cameras should have filmed the guys and girls in the back because their reactions were wild, apparently.
Five days after Wrestlemania 30, Bryan and Brie got married, but 2 days after their honeymoon ended, Bryan's dad unexpectedly passed away at the age of 57. Bryan was devastated and described how he was crying still as he was writing about it.
The book ends on a complete downer, very unlike most other wrestling books. Bryan says that as long as he wrestled when asked if everything he was missing or sacrificing was worth it, Bryan always said yes. He assumed he would have more time when he was done and could catch up on what he missed, but his dad is gone and Bryan openly admits that it wasn't worth it. If he could, Bryan would change a lot of his decisions if it meant more time with his dad.
He says he is still wrestling though because he literally doesn't know what else to do or what comes after. This is especially depressing 10 years later, when Bryan is still wrestling despite having started a family of his own. I hope he doesn't regret any time missed with his daughter.
He ends the book by describing the last time he saw his dad, on Christmas in 2013, where his dad dressed up as Santa. Fuck. I'm sad now.

Solid wrestling book, though not super memorable in my opinion. Some solid detail and dirt like you expect, but honestly it felt like he was holding back.
As always, it's in chronological order as best as I could do that. Hope y'all enjoy!
Bryan is a weird dude, while describing his adolescence, he casually says that he has a lot of weird hypothesis on various subjects, and we should ask Nigel McGuinness about Bryan's theory on how a penis grows. He doesn't expand on this more. He just says that and moves back to talking about his childhood.
Bryan rants a bit about how modern medicine has stunted human evolution because kids who would have died off got to live and reproduce and pass their "defects" onto the next generation. He says that he is one of those defects, sick all his childhood and sick a lot as an adult. He says that his wife Brie is also a "defect" but says she can share the details in her own book if she ever writes one.
When Bryan was 16 years old, he contacted Dean Melanko's wrestling school and was told it would cost him $2,500, but he needed a $500 deposit to secure his spot. Bryan was scared that there were hundreds of people on the waiting list and worked extra shifts at McDonald's in order to get the cash together asap. He put $500 deposit down for a wrestling school he couldn't go to for 2 more years.
Three months before Bryan graduated high school, the Melanko Wrestling School contacted to inform Bryan that the school was shutting down permanently. When Bryan asked for his $500 back, he was told that they no longer had it and that he was SOL.
While watching Monday Night RAW, an ad flashed advertising a 900 number (an old pay-per-minute phone concept that was always a money drain on the caller), and it advertised Shawn Michaels opening up a wrestling school. After an expensive phone call, Bryan was told to pay $20 more for a package to be mailed to him with more info. He did, and when he got the package, it detailed how Michaels wrestling school would cost $3,900 dollars, and it had another 900 number to call if you're interested. Bryan was demoralized and almost didn't call. When he did, though, he was speaking to Shawm Michaels mom, who was helping Shawn run it. Bryan's mom ended up doing all the talking, and the two mothers helped Bryan get set up with a place in San Antonio where the school was. They agreed to let Bryan pay monthly to help him with the finances.
Bryan's first day of wrestling school went exactly like everyone else's first day of wrestling school, with 90% of the students gassed and vomiting. Bryan said out of the 10 guys there, only he and Lance Cade didn't end up vomiting.
Bryan remembers how much Shawn Michaels prioritized his training to Lance Cade. One of the first days, Lance did a basic jump and got so much air that Michaels loudly proclaimed, "I smell money!"
Even though it was Shawn's school, the primary instructor was Rudy Boy Gonzales, a pretty insignificant wrestler from the 80s and 90s. Bryan puts over Rudy as a passionate trainer who motivated him to try harder. Bryan said Rudy would show Bryan anything Bryan saw on a tape and wanted to try.
Bryan says that he and "The" Brian Kendrick became friends immediately as they were both around the same size in the training and had the same level of passion for wrestling.
I always heard that Shawn Michaels wasn't very present for this school, but Bryan tells a different tale, putting Shawn over as someone who was always around and always showing them how to be better.
Bryan does remember some days that Shawn would come in with his sunglasses on, sit at the back of the class, and then dip out early. Bryan didn't realize then that Shawn was in deep with a bad painkiller addiction, and so some days he wasn't as present. Since Bryan grew up with his dad's addiction issues, Bryan says seeing Shawn actually kick the addiction fully put Shawn on a pedestal in Bryan's eyes.
After a couple of months, Shawn was telling the students to start thinking of ring names, and when Bryan couldn't come up with one, he asked Shawn about using his real name. Shawn thought about it for a second before adding "The American Dragon" to it. When Bryan asked why that name, Shawn said it's because Bryan wrestled like a Japanese guy. Bryan took that as a massive compliment.
Bryan didn't tell Shawn, but Bryan initially hated "The American Dragon" name.
Bryan had trouble being expressive and emoting in the ring, so Shawn had him wrestle under a mask.
On October 4th, 1999, Bryan wrestled his first ever match for Shawn Michaels' small promotion, Texas Wrestling Alliance. His opponent was Brian Kendrick (then known as Spanky), and Bryan says as rotton as it was, everyone in the back was super excited for their performance, including Shawn.
Bryan confirms that Kendrick called himself "Spanky" as a masturbation reference.
Shawn arranged for Bryan and Lance Cade to head over to Japan and wrestle for Frontier Martial Arts Wrestling, a bit of a "mudshow" wrestling promotion. Shawn got Bryan and Lance a spot on their card by agreeing to referee a match for the company.
Bryan remembers seeing one guy shove a bottle rocket up his opponents butt and light it off at that FMW show. So yeah, some pretty outlaw stuff.
Bryan describes attempting a moonsalt to the outside of the ring during this Japan tour, but he slipped and cracked his head on the cement. Bryan says, "When I came to, I didn't even know where I was" before describing how he stumbled his way through the match. He notes how concussions have always been a problem for him.
Lance Cade was invited back to FMW later for a 2nd tour, but they didn't ask for Bryan back. That's when Bryan realized that at his size, he needs to get much, much better.
In February 2000, HBK got Bryan, Lance Cade, Brian Kendrick, and another student named Shooter Shultz, a dark match on an episode of Smackdown. He says they planned for a 15-minute tag match before being told last minute that it's been cut down to 6 minutes. Bryan says HBK went and yelled at some people about "his guys" until he got it bumped up to 10 minutes.
Bryan says he got his first documented concussion that match, because they weren't used to a literal ramp, and Bryan cracked his skull on it, doing a pointless dive. He says the WWE doctor backstage told him to just make sure he doesn't fall asleep.
Bryan says when they got backstage after their match, HBK was excited and pumping them up, telling everyone backstage that they should sign all 4 guys immediately. This was on Tuesday, and by Thursday, when WWE still hadn't contacted them, Shawn called them up and threatened to take the 4 to WCW where Kevin Nash would make sure they were signed. Bryan says WWE quickly offered all 4 guys developmental contracts for $500 per week. Bryan says HBK was a great guy to have in your corner.
Shortly after getting the developmental contract, Bryan and Kendrick wrestled a main event ladder match for Shawn's TWA promotion. At the time, Bryan believed that in order to stand out, he would need to wrestle a more daredevil style, so he did some dumb stuff in this match. He did some ridiculous spot that ended with Bryan separating his shoulder. After the match, he took a table bump that legitimately knocked him unconscious for a full minute.
A week or 2 later, the teams had a rematch in a steel cage where all 4 agreed to blade for the first time. Why is he doing this dumb shit right after being offered a WWE contract?
Bryan says those ladder and cage matches made him realize he needed to change his style up and become more mat based. He wouldn't have had a long career if he kept getting hurt. At this point, Bryan has only been wrestling for 6 or 8 months and already suffered maybe 3 concussions. At least 2 for sure.
Bryan Danielson, Lance Cade, Brian Kendrick, and Shooter Shultz all moved to Memphis, where WWE's development primarily opperated out of at the time. William Regal was also a developmental system at the time, trying to show he had kicked his addiction issues.
Memphis Championship Wrestling was the territory they wrestled for, and Bryan remembers wrestling in all sorts of crazy locations like a WalMart parking lot once.
Although Shawn eventually took the mask off Bryan in TWA, the guys at MCW immediately put the mask back on Bryan.
The only time Bryan thought he might get called up to the main roster was in January 2001, when he heard rumors that WWE wanted to start up a cruiserweight division and use Danielson and Kendrick That didn't happen, though, and Bryan never heard another rumor or wiff of him being called up.
In June 2001, someone from WWE talent relations came down to evaluate talent. Brian was let go and told that despite his talent, they just had no plans for him.
In October 2001, Bryan was offered a spot in California based All Pro Wrestling's annual King Of The Indies tournament. Danielson would beat Kendrick in the first round, and after the show, Nick Bockwinkle, who was there watching, loudly told promoter Roland Alexander, "If you don't put that guy over." Bockwinkle said while pointing directly at Bryan, "You're crazy!"
APW head trainer Donovan Morgan was scheduled to beat Bryan in the second round and go on to win the tournament, but promoter Roland made the call to have Bryan win instead.
Bryan says this that while this really pissed Donovan off, what really upset the guy was when Roland offered Danielson and Kendrick trainer positions alongside Donovan.
Kendrick turned the offer down, but Bryan took it and moved to California in January 2002, where he became the head trainer. Though Bryan says he was a lousy trainer and no good at motivating anyone.
On February 2002, Bryan sat down with Gabe Sapolsky, who, after being inspired by the Super 8 tournament Bryan won, wanted Bryan part of his new promotion, Ring of Honor.
Bryan remembers both William Regal and John Laurinaitis said they would try to get Bryan an in to Japan, but both came up short, and both eventually stopped returning Bryan's calls.
In March 2002, Bryan Danielson, Christopher Daniels, and Brian Kendrick got a tryout with New Japan in Santa Monica. Antonio Inoki was actually there to oversee, but he literally had his back turned to the ring while Danielson and Kendrick wrestled. Inoki never bothered to turn around and watch them, instead watching someone stretch, Bryan says. Bryan later heard that New Japan never intended to hire anyone. They just wanted their dojo to look full for press.
After the "tryout," Bryan says that Inoki fell and had to be helped up by a bunch of people. Only the three of them didn't get up to help, with Kendrick saying loudly, "serves the motherfucker right."
Bryan kept making trips to the Santa Monica dojo every couple of weeks until Shinya "Togi" Makabe told him that if Bryan really wanted to be taken seriously, he had to be at the dojo every single day. Bryan took the advice seriously, quit his training job and moved to Santa Monica.
Bryan says he was offered to come tour with New Japan after only training at the dojo full time a few weeks. It was on this tour where Bryan first wrestled in the Tokyo Dome.
In May 2003, Bryan wrestled another Tokyo Dome show, where Bryan, Rocky Romero and TJ Perkins were all pulled aside in the hotel after the show, by Justin Cully. Cully literally slapped each man across the face, saying the slaps are from Inoki, who was disappointed in their proformances that night. Apparently Inoki expected them to wrestle more of a shoot style fight and was very upset.
In March 2004, Bryan won his first title with New Japan, the IWGP Junior Tag titles with Christopher Daniels, and Bryan would spend the majority of the year with New Japan where he wrestled 8 different tours.
Bryan pitched a 3 hour long match to Gabe Sapolsky for a ROH show and is disappointed they didn't go the full 3 hours.
Going into 2005, Bryan expected to wrestle his whole career in New Japan, but was startled when New Japan didn't get his visa renewed for the January tour like they always do. He was told it was a mistake and he would be back for March tour, but again he was told last minute they didn't have a visa for him. In May they contacted him last minute inviting him for a tour, but at a ridiculous pay cut down to $500 per week. Bryan turned the offer down and never went back to that Santa Monica dojo or work for New Japan again. He later heard that he was used as a pawn in a power struggle with the Dojo and New Japan.
In mid-2005 Bryan got an email from CM-Punk about a rumor suggesting that both WWE and TNA were interested in Bryan, Punk and Samoa Joe. Joe would quickly sign with TNA after this and Punk took a developmental deal with WWE. Bryan never heard from either company, and a few months later Gabe Sapolsky told Bryan he wanted to build ROH around Bryan but wanted a promise that Bryan wouldn't just leave to WWE or TNA. Great timing Gabe, because Bryan immediately said yes.
After winning the ROH World title in September 2005, Bryan says his title reign was falling flat until he started being cocky and cutting those "best in the world" promos. Bryan even shades Jericho and Punk a little by saying at the time no one else was saying it and that's why it worked so well for him.
Bryan puts over his matches with Nigel McGuinness in summer of 2006, but points out one in particular he regrets. Nigel had the idea for Bryan to pull Nigel's face into the steel ring post 3 times to get real blood. After 3 attempts and no blood, Nigel yelled, "One more time!" They got blood on the 4th time, and gave Nigel a severe concussion.
Five minutes into an hour long match with Colt Cabana in August 2006, Bryan landed bad on the outside of the ring, where he separated that same right shoulder as before and tore two tendons.
Three weeks later, Bryan defended his ROH title against KENTA of all people, who legitimately targeted his hurt shoulder all match. Then Bryan went to tour Japan with Pro Wrestling Noah where he and KENTA had a rematch.
Bryan would finally drop the ROH title in December 2006 and then take nearly 4 months off. This is the first time he took off since he started wrestling in 1999.
After doing a tour of Japan with Pro Wrestling Noah in April 2007, Bryan was excited to come back to ROH and signed a 2 year contract.
In June 2007, Bryan and Nigel wrestled an extremely physical match that featured a spot where the two traded headbutts. The match didn't air until September that year and in the mean time, the Chris Benoit double murdesuicide happened and the talk of concussions and safety concerns changed completely. The match was not recieved well and Gabe later told Bryan that they shouldn't have aired it at all.
ROH struggled after the Benoit incident and most everyone had to adapt and tone down their styles. Bryan wasn't one of those people, and actually refused to tone down his style. Later in 2007 he would rupture his ear drum exchanging open palm strikes with KENTA and he would suffer a detached retina in a match with Takeshi Morishima. To this day, he has trouble hearing from his left ear and has trouble with vision.
Bryan remembers being super late for a show and not even being able to meet his opponent beforehand. To Bryan's suprise, his opponent, who despite being green, was great to work with and the two had good chemistry. That was a young Jon Moxley.
In Summer of 2008, Shawn Michaels was fueding with Chris Jericho and they incorporated Lamce Cade on Jericho's side, since Shawn trained Lance. Shawn actually reached out to Bryan about also joining the WWE and being involved in the story.
Bryan met with Vince McMahon and remembers how taken back Vince seemed when they first met, and thinks it was because of Bryan's size and how plain he looked. Bryan also didn't sell himself well in the meeting, saying he is "just okay." Head of talent relations John Laurinaitis told Bryan that they would call him, but he never did.
When Bryan returned from a Japan tour in October 2008, he was shocked to find Gabe Sapolsky had been fired by ROH and replaced by Adam Pearce. Bryan details that while Gabe liked to book long shows with everyone on the card trying their hardest to steal the show, Pearce booked shorter shows and had the lower card guys preform well, but not to try everything under the sun to outshine the main event. You can see why Jim Cornette and Adam Pearce get along so well.
Bryan notes how he was fueding with Claudio Castignoli when Gabe was fired, but Pearce immediately ended that program to which Bryan says he and Claudio were disappointed.
After another failed attempt to get into WWE I'm early 2009, Bryan refocused his energies by moving to Las Vegas where he started training in kick boxing and other forms of mixed martial arts.
Bryan trained religiously for months under a former MMA fighter Neil Melanson. Neil is the one who taught Bryan the LaBell Lock.
When Bryan's ROH contract expired in May 2009, he called John Laurinaitis and left a message, but never heard back.
Bryan says in mid-2009, he was talking to Gabe Sapolsky about starting up a new promotion that would become Evolve. Bryan says that Paul Heyman was even involved with these talks.
Brian Kendrick called Danielson up to pitch Danielson coming to WWE as Kendrick's tag partner. Danielson even went and filmed a bunch of promos with Kendrick and fel optimistic. Unfortunately, Kendrick was fired just a few weeks later before any of those vignets aired and that opportunity was gone as well.
Bryan had given up ever going to WWE when John Laurinaitis called him in September 2009 offering him a main roster contract. Bryan was so excited he didn't have to go to developmental, that he would be right on the main roster immediately. Or so he thought, I guess they didn't bother telling Brilyan about NXT at that time, even though it sounds like he was signed with that in mind.
Nigel was also signed at the same time (probably also meant for NXT) but before either man could start, they had to pass WWE medical tests. They asked them both about past injuries, and Bryan just lied, saying he never had anything wrong and was fine. Didn't mention his shoulder being separated twice, or the detached retina, or any concussion. Nigel on the other hand, was very honest about his injuries, including a torn bicep that he didn't get worked on, he just rehabbed it. Nigel figured he was a lock and didn't see the need to lie.
WWE was concerned about Bryan's elevated liver enzymes, and wanted Nigel to get surgery on his bicep before they would sign him. Both guys were wrestling a farewell tour with ROH and both genuinely concerned they wouldn't actually be leaving. In their last match for ROH, Bryan accidentally gave Nigel a concussion, because apparently these guys only know how to wrestle at one speed!
Nigel couldn't afford the bicep surgery and his own doctor was telling him he is fine, so Nigel went to TNA instead. Nigel would only wrestle for another year before his body would break down too far on him and he would retire.
Bryan signed his WWE contract on October 2nd, 2009, nearly 10 years to the day of his debut match. William Regal actually told Bryan, "Your wrestling career came before this and is over now. Anything else that happens now is a bonus."
William Regal came up with the name "Daniel Bryan" for Bryan to use in WWE. Brian tried arguing to Laurinaitis to use his real name and citing John Cena as an example, Laurinaitis simply told Bryan, "We don't do that anymore."
In early 2010, Bryan and seven other guys were told one day about the NXT concept and how they would be used. Bryan found out who his NXT "pro" would be just like everyone else, when WWE posted it on their website. Bryan initially legit wanted Regal as his "pro" but soon realized being paired with Miz gives him a story immediately.
Bryan describes his time in NXT as the most unusual of his career. The "rookies" all legitimately didn't know what was going to happen on any show and everything they did was 100% unscripted and improvised.
The first night in NXT, all the "rookies" were told 15 minutes before the show, that their "pro" would cut a promo on them and they needed to react accordingly. Bryan had no idea that his pro, the Miz was going to tell him to head to the ring and cut a promo on himself, literally telling him on live TV to make the fans care about him. Bryan had no idea what to say, no real direction he was given to go in, and no tome to plan or rehearse. Miz also told him to come up with a catchphrase, and Bryan said he always hated catch phrases.
In the ring, Bryan cut a generic promo where he said he lost his train of thought and was super greatful when The Miz came out to finish the promo off. Bryan didn't know that would happen and Bryan definitely didn't know Miz was going to slap him at the end. Bryan says that later, The Miz confided to Bryan that he was worried Bryan would try to fight him over the slap.
Bryan credits Chris Jericho for getting him over in his first WWE match, and says that neither he, nor Miz knew that Miz was to beat up Brian after the match. Apparently, Miz was informed during the Jericho/Bryan match that he was to attack Bryan after the finish. Wild how much "flying by the seat of their pants" that WWE did with early NXT.
After the show, Jericho told Bryan that Vince was impressed, though he noted how Vince said, "Ugh, but he doesn't even eat meat!"
Bryan describes promo class with Vince as kinda insane to be honest. One time Bryan accidentally spilled a water bottle, and Vince asked everyone how that made them feel about Bryan. Stuff like that.
Bryan says the NXT rookies weren't allowed to use the regular dressing room and had to use some tarped off part of the backstage area.
Bryan notes how most of the NXT season, the NXT rookies never really knew what was going to happen. The 2nd week Bryan lost to Wade Barret and wasn't told that Chris Jericho would be attacking him after the match.
Bryan says his initial storyline with The Miz wasn't a losing streak idea, but something where each loss had meaning and was being built with purpose. Miz was very hands on with each show and helped to put over Bryan and the storyline, but when Miz missed 2 weeks in a row, the producers left in charge basically just turned it into a losing streak storyline, which Bryan says, "never works."
One time on a plane, Ezekiel Jackson asked "which rookie has an isle seat?" Bryan raised his had and Ezekiel said, "Not anymore." Bryan stood his ground and refused, offering his seat to anyone but Ezekiel. Ezekiel got pissed but William Regal came over and chastised Jackson, saying Bryan is like a son to him and how Bryan has more talent in his pinky ginger than Jackson has in his whole body.
Bryan says the NXT "Pros Polls" were legitimate voting done by the pros. That's why Bryan ended up in first place, despite losing every match.
A week after Wrestlemania in 2010, NXT's direction and purpose shifted away from being serious to silly, and Bryan says they were suddenly doing dumb game show competitions and putting over how demoralizing it was.
Bryan says Skip Shepfield (Ryback) was the only rookie taking the competitions seriously and trying to win each game. Sounds on brand for the big guy.
Bryan says he was trying to be humble when asked who should be eliminated and he said himself. He figured since he lost to everyone he didn't have a right to say any of them. Backstage Miz told him he made a mistake and shouldn't have put that perception out there.
A week later they liked the rookies up on TV (an hour before it goes live) and informed Bryan and fellow rookie Michael Tarver that they are both eliminated, without telling them beforehand. Bryan felt this validated all the warnings guys like Colt Cabana and other gave him about WWE.
Right after Matt Striker interviewed him backstage and when asked an insulting question, Bryan snapped and started talking down about "Daniel Bryan" and started to put over "Bryan Danielson!" Bryan says he could hear Vince screaming into Striker's ear piece and apparently Vince threw his headset when Bryan said his real name.
They made Bryan retape the interview without saying that, but still aired his original interview.
Bryan was surprisingly called back to NXT the following week to start a rivalry with Micheal Cole, who had been verbally obliterating Bryan on commentary since Bryan debuted. Bryan seems to be greatful for that program since it kept him on tv and made him confident that he would keep his job.
The RAW after NXT season 1 ended, all the rookies were pulled into Vince's office and told about Nexus and the attack in the main event. They were told not to tell anyone or else they will be fired. Bryan says he even lied to William Regal, when asked why he was dressed to wrestle.
They were supposed to attack John Cena and Rey Mysterio in the main event, because WWE let the fans vote on Cena's opponent and they assumed Rey would get it. Surprisingly it was CM Punk, and Bryan isn't sure how much Punk was told about the angle.
Bryan legit choked Justin Roberts during the melee, leaving red marks on his skin with his tie. Bryan said he doesn't trust non-wrestlers to sell good so he did it for real, with Justin going purple on Tv. Later during the brawl, Bryan was grabbing a cable to choke someone else when a cameraman told him "no choking!" Bryan does note that he thinks Justin Roberts found it pretty cool to be involved. And later Heath Slater grabbed the dismantled ring ropes to choke Cena, but Cena told him as well, "No choking."
Cena told Bryan before the angle, "It's not the hit you do that's important, it's what you do before the hit that matters." This is why Bryan spit in Cena's face before kicking him in the head.
Backstage, Bryan was reprimanded twice, for choking and spitting. Two days later Vince McMahon personally called Bryan to tell him he was let go and apologized to Bryan for it. Bryan, arrogant as all hell, responded with, "Don't apologize, I'll make more money this year on the independents than I would have working for you."
Bryan called John Laurinaitis to clear up details and Laurinaitis was shocked to hear Bryan was fired. Apparently Vince didn't tell anyone, just called Laurinaitis up and asked for Bryan's number. The comment Bryan made about money seemed to get to Vince since Laurinaitis called Bryan back and asked about it. Laurinaitis actually told Bryan that he can start working independent dates immediately if he wasn't on TV.
After working several shows and making good money off merchandise for several weeks, Bryan was shocked when John Laurinaitis called him in August and asked him to come back for a big angle leading into SummerSlam. Bryan sheepishly asked for a raise and made sure he could make all his already planned independent bookings.
Bryan says Nexas should have won at SummerSlam, noting how they went from dangerous to jobbers in one night.
Bryan remembers a taped RAW after SummerSlam where he did an angle with The Miz. When he got backstage Vince was so mad at how it came off that he made Bryan and others go back out there and do it again. It was the first time Bryan ever had to redo something like that and he said he felt humiliated.
Bryan didnt seem to see much value in being US Champion outside of how it would keep him on tv and maybe monthly ppv matches.
At Hell in a Cell 2010 ppv, Bryan had a good match with Miz and John Morrison, but was scolded after that match for a spot where Bryan threw Miz's stoog Alex Riley off the stage where he landed on cameraman. They showed the two guys the footage and accused them of doing it on purpose to get themselves over. Bryan started regretting coming back and really hating his time in WWE.
Bryan was paired with the Bella Twins in a storyline he hated, that was based on the Twins confusing the word "vegan" for "virgin" and competing to sleep with Bryan. Despite how bad that storyline was, Bryan and Brie would develop a relationship and would start dating in February 2011.
Sheamus was given a choice of Wrestlemania opponents that year between Rey Mysterio and Daniel Bryan, and Sheamus chose Bryan. Bryan was greatful but concerned Sheamus chose wrong and their match would be cut but Sheamus wasn't worried at all. A week before Mania they were informed their match was on the pre-show at a meeting with literally every other wrestler. Bryan says Sheamus buried his face in his hands and remembers how Rey Mysterio got on the card in a match with Cody Rhodes. Bryan says Sheamus picked the wrong guy.
Bryan got some details in his book messed up where he talks about Miz winning the WWE title off Cena at Wrestlemania 27 and he talks about how Miz was WWE Champion going into Over The Limit ppv 2011, but Miz lost the title by then. It's notable because he says he pitched hard for a "Rocky style" storyline where he would challenge Miz for the WWE title at the Over The Limit ppv.
Bryan says the 2011 Smackdown Money in the Bank winner wasn't decided until the day of the show but it was always between Wade Barret, Cody Rhodes and Bryan. He says despite winning the briefcase, his tv time tricked down and eventually he was spending weeks off tv, until he was randomly inserted into the World title program between Mark Henry and Big Show in late 2011.
Bryan was being left at home and off shows, even watching Survivor Series 2011 from home and was suprised when WWE had him come to the December TLC ppv show, last minute. The day of the show he was told he was cashing in and winning the title and the only direction Vince McMahon gave him was to act like he won the superbowl, so that's where Bryan's over the top celebration came from. He didn't even tell his girlfriend Brie Bella about the plan and says she was shocked when he came backstage afterwards.
The only direction Vince gave Bryan as champion is to celebrate every appearance like he won the lottery, saying, "there is no too over the top here."
Bryan said he adapted his "Yes" chants from MMA fighter Diego Sanchez who was celebrating in a similar way at the time.
Bryan's favorite moment from that first world title run was the closing sequence in the 2012 Elimination Chamber match with him and Santino Marella.
Bryan originally expected he and Sheamus to get 15 minutes or so at Wrestlemania for their match, but was shocked when Chris Jericho told him he heard it would be 8 minutes, including the pre & post match stuff. A week later Arn Anderson confirmed to Bryan that he would lose a 1-move match, dropping the world title to Sheamus at Wrestlemania that year. Bryan and Sheamus were both pissed, to say the least.
Sheamus expressed concern that the short match would turn fans against him as a new champion. Smart man.
Bryan says a bunch of guys came up to him after his Mania loss and were pissed at what they did to Bryan out there. Great Khali even came up and told Bryan that it was bullshit in his broken English.
Originally Sheamus was planned to move into a fued with Alberto Del-rio right after Mania, but the crazy crowd support for Bryan forced them to extend they story another month. Bryan says his Extreme Rules ppv match with Sheamus in 2012 is one of his favorites. Mine too!
Bryan acknowledged the weird booking of Punk as champion in 2012, noting how heels would face John Cena, lose, then be sent to face Punk with no momentum. Interesting take on the situation.
Bryan mentions how when he and Punk fueded in 2012, they never got main event spots outside of non-televised events. One time at a house show, Bryan and Punk veered too far into comedy and after the match John Cena chastised Bryan by pointing out that they didn't wrestle a "main event style" match. Apparently the next house show, Cena was moved into the main event spot with Punk/Bryan being before the intermission. An enraged Punk went and yelled at people until he got his main event spot back. This time, no comedy spots were done and they stayed the main event for the circuit.
Bryan had brand new, edgier gear made up prior to Money in the Bank 2012 and didn't tell anyone backstage. He wore shorts over his trunk and hid the jacket until he had to go out. When he got to the ring, the ref told him to lose the jacket, because I guess Vince was in gorilla position freaking out over how Bryan looked. Dean Melanko was the producer for the match, and Bryan felt bad when Vince blamed him for allowing Bryan to wear it.
Bryan was originally planned to wrestle Charlie Sheen at SummerSlam 2012 in a celebrity match, but Charlie "bailed" as Bryan put it.
Bryan was trying to be "Mr Small Package" by winning matches with Small Package and then boasting about how he has an "inescapable small package!" It didn't get over.
Bryan thought his anger management vignets with Kane and Dr Shelby were going to be terrible.
The only reason they stopped using Dr Shelby is because he had limited days off from his regular teaching job.
Bryan and Kane really wanted their team name to be "Team Friendship" and they even had shirt ideas but Vince let the fans vote and he always kept those votes legit, so their team name was "Team Hell No" which Bryan brings up a good point about. He said as a team primarily appealing to kids, a name with "Hell" in it would be hard to sell merchandise to those kids.
The plan was to break up their team so they could have a good heated fued together, but they were so popular that they kept teaming for 9 months.
Bryan says his first good Wrestlemania experience was in 2013 when he teamed with Kane.
One night after Mania in 2013, when Bryan tagged with Kane and Undertaker to face The Shield, Vince McMahon told Bryan that he would pay him several thousand dollars if he could get Undertaker to hug Bryan in the ring. After the show Bryan got on the mic and tried his hardest to get the hug but couldn't quite do it.
Bryan says that both he and Kane agree that teaming together was some of the most fun in either man's career.
Bryan was scheduled to win the biggest match of his career up to that point, he would be beating Randy Orton clean on RAW. Bryan would botch a dive that left both arms nunb and him unable to stand. He got feeling back in one arm but eventually the doctor called the match off. Backstage Bryan started screaming at Triple H for calling the match and called him a hypocrite for doing so, citing his own injuries in matches. At one point Orton tried to calm Bryan down, but Bryan snapped at him and Orton started yelling too. Brie got Bryan away to calm down, but when Vince came to talk to Bryan, the shouting started again. Much later, William Regal advised Bryan to apologize to both Vince and Triple H, to which Bryan took his advice. The next week, Bryan would get his win over Orton and he says that that drama over everything made that win matter more.
An MRI showed that one of Bryan's disks was pushing into his nerves and eventually he would need surgery. With his momentum starting to rise, Bryan opted to put surgery off.
John Cena pitched facing Daniel Bryan at Money in the Bank 2013 ppv. When Vince asked why, Cena said because it's the biggest match they could do at that time. Vince ended up agreeing, but deciding that it belongs at SummerSlam that year instead!
As proud as Bryan is of the build to and match with Cena at SummerSlam, he acknowledges that the ppv didn't do good numbers, nor did the house show business the following 2 months when Bryan was the main protagonist. He thinks a lot the the Authority promos on him stemmed from some truth.
Bryan isn't satisfied with the quality of matches he was putting out in the latter half of 2013 amd he specifically calls out the series of bad finishes he had with Randy Orton in ppv main events. From the fast counting crooked ref, to that terrible one with Big Show knocking everyone out, and then to Shawn Michaels betraying Bryan at Hell in a Cell ppv.
Bryan initially thought he was getting a Wrestlemania match with Shawn Michaels after that Hell in a Cell finish, but after talking with HBK, it was clear that was never in the cards.
Bryan feels he failed as a main eventer in the 2nd half of 2013, regardless of match quality. He didn't move business and that's all that matters.
The Slammy's were fan votes and Vince didn't think Bryan would win and almost laughed when Bryan asked him what he should say if he does win. Vince said, "whatever you want." I wish I could have seen Vince's face when Bryan won later that night.
When Bryan started fueding with Wyatt Family in late-2013, Bryan was pitching for him to be "brainwashed" and join the group. He suspects that his rising popularity in early 2014 is what convinced WWE to have Bryan turn on Bray and leave the group. At the time, Bryan was hoping to stay with the group and be involved in the planned Cena/Wyatt Wrestlemania program since Bryan had no plans for Mania at that time.
Bryan says he was disappointed when Vince told him he would be facing Sheamus again at Wrestlemania 2014. No disrespect to Sheamus, but Bryan felt he belonged in a higher spot.
Bryan felt bad for the way Rey Mysterio was boo'd at the 2014 Royal Rumble.
When Punk quit WWE after Rumble that year, Bryan remembers how plans didn't change too much for a few weeks, and he assumes Vince expected Punk to come back and for Batista to win the crowds over, and neither happened.
Triple H was being vocal about wanting to face Bryan at Mania that year, but Bryan was trying to not get his hopes up since he had seen Triple H try and fail to get his ideas on screen.
Bryan and Brie only agreed to let Total Divas shoot their wedding, because Total Divas agreed to pay for the whole wedding! Hard to say no to that!
Bryan is very satisfied with his matches at Wrestlemania 30 and says he was so focused between matches that he missed Undertaker losing to Lesnar. He heard the ring bell and looked up at the monitor in shock. He says they cameras should have filmed the guys and girls in the back because their reactions were wild, apparently.
Five days after Wrestlemania 30, Bryan and Brie got married, but 2 days after their honeymoon ended, Bryan's dad unexpectedly passed away at the age of 57. Bryan was devastated and described how he was crying still as he was writing about it.
The book ends on a complete downer, very unlike most other wrestling books. Bryan says that as long as he wrestled when asked if everything he was missing or sacrificing was worth it, Bryan always said yes. He assumed he would have more time when he was done and could catch up on what he missed, but his dad is gone and Bryan openly admits that it wasn't worth it. If he could, Bryan would change a lot of his decisions if it meant more time with his dad.
He says he is still wrestling though because he literally doesn't know what else to do or what comes after. This is especially depressing 10 years later, when Bryan is still wrestling despite having started a family of his own. I hope he doesn't regret any time missed with his daughter.
He ends the book by describing the last time he saw his dad, on Christmas in 2013, where his dad dressed up as Santa. Fuck. I'm sad now.

Alisandra:
Catz and Tenty walked in to see the crew pushing more generators and battery rocks onto the ship, her petite form looking lovely in a frilly pink dress. Flicking her tail with curiosity, Tenty waved me over. Succumbing to her request, her eager eyes glittered with excitement. Pressing her gloved hands together, the new leather button up dress looked fantastic. The bonus thing was that leather was easier to clean.
“When you go to that planet, could you get your hands on this tea called thistleburg? It has the sweetest taste of strawberries and cream.” She pleaded an even bigger smile than the one she bore a few seconds ago. She did watch my kids while I was gone, the tea wouldn’t be an issue. Placing my hand on her shoulder, admiration brightened her smile.
“Sure thing. I look forward to trying it.” I returned simply, Scampy leaping into my arms. “Be a good boy. I promise to pick up when you call.” Tears glistened in his eyes, my real smile doing little to relieve his fraying nerves. Setting him down, Tenty offered him her hand. Accepting it with a weary smile, Jack came out of the kitchen with Basy. My pets slithered up to my side, my palms rubbing behind their heads. Passing her over to Tenty, they exchanged words for a couple of minutes. Running the plan through my head, something had to come to fruition. Kissing the tops of Scampy and Basy’s heads, Mortos came in in his space suit. Dusting off my own, Jack had my usual mechanic’s suit on his arm. Climbing onto the ship with me, Icy came on with Jack. Whiskers and his brother found their way into their seats, Whiskers’ eyes watching me hook up my harness. Zoning out while everyone got settled, it dawned on me that I was the one lady on the trip. Fussing with my golden chains, Jack played with the tip of my ears as he took the captain’s chair. Scarlet flushed my cheeks, his crooked grin caused my heart to skip a beat.
“Stuck in your head again? This mission should be fairly simple.” He assured me with a crooked grin, flipping the switches. “Then again, trouble seems to find you.” The door opened, my snakes hissing the moment I strapped them to my chair. Shooting them a stern look, their tongues flickered against my cheeks. Ignoring the odd looks, anxiety built in their eyes as the ship backed out onto the street. Straightening out, the ship shot into the inky sea of diamonds. Stabilizing the gravity of the ship, a sigh of relief cascaded from my lips. Plucking the files from the side pocket of my chair, the information not adding up. Another problem lurked underneath the surface, a monster had been plaguing the refugee camp. Why not, right? Missions could never be simple and everything had to go wrong if it was going to.
“What is this monster plaguing them?” I inquired with a pensive expression, Jack asking for the details. “Webbed feet and leaves a trail of blue slime on the trees.” Seeing my snakes recoil at those words, Jack groaned gruffly with an impressive eye roll. What fresh hell were we flying into?
“Sounds like a galgatoad.” He grumbled under his breath, his eyes flitting between my snakes and me. “They eat Ratalia and Ratonia for a snack. Not to mention that damn slime is rather venomous to certain aliens. That probably should be dealt with.” Mulling over what he said, the wheels of my mind began to churn. If it was poisonous to them, then it would be poisonous to me. Continuing down that line of thought, Solomon would die if he came in contact with it. Please don't hate me for my next suggestion.
“Correct me if I am wrong but we could boil that slime down to create a proper venom to kill Solomon, right?” I suggested calmly, shock rounding my comrade’s eyes. “Hear me out! If that venom can kill me, it can kill him. He is the purebred version of me.” Jack grinned slyly in my direction, his mind picking up what I was putting down. No wonder we were perfect for each other.
“That might actually work. One thing we could do is make a wine laced with it and make an oil to coat your staff.” He suggested with an equally calm tone, the others seeing the reason behind it. “You won’t absorb it this time.” Chewing on my lip, there was no animal to tame. A lack of answer gave him a bit of relief, his hand cupped mine for a second. Other conversations broke out, neither of us speaking to each other. Letting the hours pass lazily, the worn dock was in sight. Descending into the last spot, chains curled around the holders. Undoing my harness,it was time to get changed. Excusing myself, the mechanic’s suit felt soft on my skin. Locking the door behind me, the outfit change was as swift as it came. Buttoning the last button under my chest, a dull ache had my teeth gritting. Hissing mixed with rattles on the other side of the door, big grins exposing their fangs. Snuggling into their scales, a rare moment of serenity washed over me. How lucky was I to have them, especially alive and well! Images of them taking deadly hits had tears welling up in my eyes, Jack calling for me in his usual leather jacket and khakis. A worn leather bag hung over his shoulders, new weapons sticking out of the top.
“Ready to go, my dear wife. Gosh, I adore saying that.” He chuckled sweetly, yanking me close to his hips. A throat clearing had him releasing me with scarlet cheeks, Icy and the others wearing similar outfits. I suppose the options of clothing weren't there in the first place, the outfit seemed quite comfortable. Stepping off with my boys, a sea of trees and hearty ferns greeted me. Wonder brightened my eyes at the vast amount of tree houses made of the finest wood, Shaulleaux coming out with the carts of generators and rocks. Calling over Whiskers and his brother, his sharp eyes lingered on me while pulling out complicated instructions penned by me. If anyone could figure them out, he certainly could.
“We have this. Go make that beast croak for good.” He urged with a wink, dragging my poor friends along to the first home. Taking note, Mortos and Icy were the only ones besides the two of us. Mortos had excellent marksmanship with his new rifle, Jack surpassing him by a good few points. Seconds from reaching for our staffs, Jack’s hand rose into the air. Tossing us four sticky covers, our brows cocked at the same time. Tracing the salt based metal, his attention shifted to Mortos. Throwing him an old fashioned rifle, bullets made of the same metal his other palm.
“Salt is the one weakness this damn toad has. Hit him with all you have.” He commanded with his million dollar smile, Icy's strong hand jamming on my tips before doing his. Spinning his staff over his head to test the weight, a triumphant grin curled across his lips. His scales shimmered in the lilac moonlight, his grin growing wider.
“I might simply keep these on. The added weight is brilliant.” He announced with a toss of his staff into the air, ice crawling down his arm. “Time to wake up the toad, Ali.” Sprinting into the woods, a low growl rumbled in my throat. Chasing his boots, an idea came to mind. Cutting my palm on a dull brown rock, shimmering blood pooled in my palm. Running while marking random trees, the scent would draw out our freaking toad. Checking on my scaly friends, pride glittered in their eyes. Tears wet my eyelashes at the obvious scars, guilt eating at me. Crouching down, a quiet fear lingered in my eyes the moment I placed my palm on the dirt. Watching it soak into the dirt, the ground trembled underneath my boots. Pushing off the ground, a neon green toad the size of two houses crawled from the loose dirt. Hitting a bit of slime my skin hissed in protest, a steady stream of curse words exploded from my lips. Allowing golden energy to build around my boots, dead trees cracked onto the forest floor upon my impact. Whistling sharply, Ratalia and Ratonia took my side with eager fangs dripping with their own venom. A wave of ice blocked a row of sharp teeth coming our way, bullets whistling by our head. Shrill shrieks joined hisses, steam curling off of the slimy porous skin. Watching the skin patch itself up, a groan escaped my lips. Massaging my forehead, my snakes aimed their heads in the direction of his throat. A translucent heart thumped with wild beats, my hands petting Ratalia and Ratonia. Smashing the wall of ice, ice shards sparkled in the air. Kicking up a pile of dirt, a pang of pain had me grimacing at my raw burn. Sprinting around the toad, Icy joined my side. Waiting patiently for my next order, our bond was one I cherished greatly.
“Freeze the sack holding his heart.” I whispered into his ear, skidding into the monster’s view. “Come and get me.” Dodging the flurry of venom attacks, ice devouring its body. Too frozen to move, a sly grin danced across my lips. Sprinting along the edge of the toad, my hands spun my staff over my head. A flick of my wrist had it flying deep into its heart, I raised my foot over my head. Allowing golden energy around my boot, my staff glowed brighter. Slamming my heel into the dirt, a blast of energy had ice chunks whistled by my head. Stumbling around, a cloud of dirt had us choking the moment the monster hit the forest floor. Stepping over the pooling puddle of slime, Icy freezing every ounce of it. Gagging as I plucked my staff from its decaying heart, jolts of pain shot through me upon contact with the venom. Whipping off the slime, a golden gleam cleansed it of any venom. Leaning against a tree, my left arm was covered in minor burns. Icy froze the last piece, he placed his hand on my arm. Wonder brightened my eyes at the ice cooling down the wounds, a barrage of bullets melting the toad into a fog of steam. Mouthing thank you, the relief proved to be rather welcome.
“You did great. Let’s get those checked out.” He urged with a tired smile, his words fading out as Solomon came out of the shadows. His slow clap pissed me off, nasty burn marks covered the left side of his face. The shriveled flesh had me smiling softly to myself, the smile fading to sheer panic. Of course, the ring leader of a his own sick circus had to make an appearance.
“Since you can’t stop being a damn brat, you have to play my game. All along this town are some bombs you missed.” He bragged with a Cheshire Cat grin, his fingers snapping. “I am going to leave in case you fail.” A metal ladder hit his head,his fingers curling around the rung. Pushing through the raw agony, my boots pounded into town. Solomon was an ass but one thing he did was never lie. Calling my snakes over, their sense of smell was better than most dogs. Sending them out to seek out the bombs, the others caught up to me. Spinning on my heels, this problem needed to be dealt with. Gathering my wit, the next stop had to go off without a hitch.
“We are probably minutes from getting blown to bits. Find those bombs and call for me if you don’t feel confident enough to disarm any bomb you find.” I ordered while chewing on my lip, everyone shifting around uncomfortably. “Let’s go!” My lips parted to speak, Ratalia hissing for me a couple of houses down. Branches crunched with every step towards her, an idea came to mind. Scanning the land for a crater of sorts, a barren circle caught my eyes in the far distance. Skidding to a stop, horror rounded my eyes at the complicated setup of dangerously unstable bombs. A loud fuck burst from my lips, my fingers fished around my boot for a simple screwdriver to unscrew them. Noticing Shalleaux in the distance, a wave had him sprinting over to me with a cart. Noticing the dilemma at hand, relief crashed over me at him shooting me orders. Following them to a tee, the unstable bombs rattled on the cart. Running his hand through his hair, both of us knew what to do. Building energy around my boot, Shalleaux grabbed my shoulder last minute.
“That is too much! We aren’t trying to set them off, are we?” He barked impatiently, not hiding his fear of the situation too well. Lowering the amount, a new layer of sweat dripped down our chin. Nudging it gingerly, the cart took off like a rocket. Watching it with paling faces, the metal stopped short of the crater. Cursing under my breath, something had to move it along. Scooping up a rock, my vision blurred while energy built around my fingers. Adjusting my aim, a quick flick had the rock shooting the cart into the pit. Summoning all I had left, a golden dome hummed to life over the settlement. Counting to three, orange flames decimated the dead plains around us. Every muscle in my body protested, fresh blood pouring from my nose. Listening for more ticks, one remained. Digging at the dirt underneath me, the corner of my lips twitched at another bomb. No other one remained, a steel box catching my eyes. Ripping it from the dirt, the beeping sped up with every step towards my target. Chucking it in, my palms held the door shut. Shalleaux sprinted over to me, old chains rattling in his hand. Pushing me to the forest floor, his trembling hands tied the chains around it. Lifting it out of the ground, he bounced it off of his palms until enough of the air had built in his palm. Spinning it off of his palm, the bomb exploded midair. Rolling his hand around, a blast of wind sent the flames and debris into the dark side of the planet. Not one drop of new sweat glistened on his brow, his attention falling on me. Too weak to move, his strong arm tossed me over his shoulder. Bewilderment mixed with wonder at the display of powers.
“Let’s get your dumb ass patched up. Neptune must have a cure.” He sighed with a goofy grin, his head cocking to the left with a hearty chuckle. Purified water glistened in his palm, a tip of his hand cleansing the land of any nuclear chemicals. How the hell did he manage that?
“When did you learn to do all of that?” I queried with a twinkle in my eyes, his grin widening. “Why not inform your captain about all of that?” Shrugging his shoulders, a muscular snake demon in a simple button up shirt and worn leather overalls waved with a natural smile. His violet scales shimmered in the light, his golden snake eyes shimmered with pure bliss. Assuming he was Neptune, his smile grew bigger to reveal his curved snake fangs. At least his aura was as pure as the morning suns.
“Shally, you brought me the prize snake.” He teased playfully, Ratalia and Ratonia slithering up to us with wagging rattling tails. “Your snakes came to me to inform me of your little burns. Thanks for taking out that pesky croak of a toad.” Wondering how he was so cheerful naturally, my eyes flitted around the room he guided us into. The inner markings of the trunk made a lovely study of sorts. A crackling fire called me, the river rocks casting shadows in the light of the flames. Setting me down in a plush green chair, Neptune seemed head deep into a beat up box. Plucking out a tub of neon green ooze, nausea flipped my stomach about. Melting the ice with one touch, Whiskers skidded in. Leaving a cloud of dirt, my new friend slopped some of that darn ooze onto my arm. Biting my lips until a small ribbon of blood dribbled down my chin, the raw agony had me seconds from crying out. The agony died down to a dull throb, the sight of Icy and the boys had containers full of the frozen slime. Waving as they walked by, Whiskers wagged his tail, his ears pinning back at my clear annoyance. What was my issue? All of us were in one piece which meant that the mission was a success.
“I managed to gather a six month supply of that tea. Tenty will be tickled pink.” He chatted with me brightly, the attempt not easing my mood. “A feast is being held in our honor tonight.” Pressing his palms together, the sight of being at ease had my heart fluttering. Adjusting his jacket, he didn’t need to be here. Fun needed to be had in order to keep the well-being running smoothly among a good team.
“Go on a little date with your dear Shally.” I urged with a meager wink, his features illuminating to life. “Trust me, you both need it.” Shalleaux offered his arm, Whiskers’ arms hooking onto it. Gliding out, the fire and Neptune kept me company. Taking the seat across from me, his cheerful demeanor slipped to a more stern one. Resting my hands on the laps, the scars were going to be hideous. Would they make me hideous to my husband?
“Who are you? I mean who are you really?” He asked tersely, a maid setting down a tray of tea. “People like you are like a comet that comes by once a millennia. What scares me about you is that you are a ticking time bomb emotionally.” Shrinking back into my chair, no one had read me that well since Jack. Scratching at my cheek, his sharp gaze demanded my answers. Why did his aura demand answers?
“I am the literal half-breed of you. All I want to do is to become president of the universe to bring back it a new glory where all can be free to live. As for the ticking time bomb, you aren’t wrong. Enough shit haunts the recesses of my mind to kill the weak.” I returned with a gulp, hating the harsh feelings nipping at me. “Maybe we could reach a trade deal and get your people things as impressive as the current power systems illuminating your homes.” Leaning onto his hands, curiosity brought his eyes back to life. Please say yes to increase my chances against Solomon.
“Sure. The legends have been proven valid.” He mused with a bemused grin, his hands dropping to his lap. “How many independent planets have you made your unofficial allies? Our supplies have increased greatly since you have been running around fixing the systems. One more question! How come you never prosecuted any of us on our little planets? “ Massaging my forehead, this conversation had a strange hold on me. Wondering that myself, the principality of it was what held me back. Independent planets deserved to remain free as long as they desired.
“Why prosecute what wasn’t ours to prosecute?” I commented simply, waving my hand around. “You guys never joined the union. Running around on your own makes you guys stronger than I could ever dream to be.” Parting his lips to speak several times, Jack pounded into the cozy space. Cupping my face, his lips brushed against mine feverishly. My breath hitched, the release of his spell had me realizing how tired I was. Wiping away the blood with his sleeve, Jack doubled for a minute. Snapping his fingers in front of my face, the inability to focus had alarm bells ringing away. Giving him a list of certain medicines, Neptune excused himself to gather his supplies.
“I hope this lands on good ears but you can’t keep pushing yourself, Ali.” He chastised me clumsily, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Next time you use your magic, let’s keep it within your limits.” Neptune came out with a big grin, the medicines clanking in another worn box. Accepting them with a gracious smile, Jack mixed the right ones together with a jolly hum. Pouring the muddy liquid down my throat, voices came in and out. Swaying back and forth, exhaustion had to be a nasty side effect. Falling from my chair, Jack’s strong arms caught me. A severe paralysis had me at his mercy.
“What did you give me?” I slurred languidly, my tongue weighing about twenty pounds. Pressing his palm to my lips, his face floated in the new lights. His lips moved a mile a minute, the words not entering my ears. Blinking a couple of times, his hand cupped my cheek. Mixed emotions flashed in my eyes, an apologetic smile lingering clumsily on his lips.
“It is a heavy sedative mixed with the best pain medication around.” He explained calmly, his voice getting deeper and slower by the second. “Sleep is what you need the most. Nightmares plague you but you still need slumber at the end of the day.” Nodding once, a rough darkness stole me away.

Staring up at the skyscraper standing tall in a sea of eerie fog, lost souls wandered aimlessly back and forth into the revolving door. Wut and Croak shifted uncomfortably behind me, both of them shaking their heads. Massaging my forehead, this had to be the definition of despair.
“Nothing screams loss of hope like a never ending job.” I commented with a huff, both of them raising their weapons at the souls pausing for a minute. “Let’s take down this Jakal person.” Resuming their activity, a pair of violet eyes glittered on the top floor. Joining the souls pouring in, a cold stale lobby greeted me. Taking in the empty ivory desk, the souls poured into offices. Wondering where to go, the answer must lay in a code somewhere. Wut nudged my shoulders, his robes brushing against the top of my feet. Pointing to the flickering light in the elevator, a quiet fear had me stepping back. Elevators scared me, Wut flicking the back of my head.
“There aren’t any stairs.” He pointed out in a huff, Croak shooting daggers from her eyes. “Let’s go.” Dragging the two of us onto the elevator, a rusty door clicked shut. His expression softened at my obvious fear, an apologetic smile lingering on his lips. Nothing needed to be said, the elevator groaning up to the top floor. The door clicked open, a maze of cubicles had our brows cocking at the same with a scoffs of disappointment. Why couldn’t anything simply be one and done? Then again, getting lost in a maze of cubicles did sound depressing as shit. Moving around in front of us, the path changed.
“Have fun suffering in dark despair as I torture you with an endless test.” An icy female voice laughed maniacally, my muscles stiffening. “Only then you can fight me. See you never!” Stepping into the first cubicle, the smell of stale ketchup was on point. Covering up my nose with the hem of my onyx lace skirt, another musty breeze had my scarlet blouse fluttering with my leather jacket. Wut and Croak began to argue next to me, a couple of shadow snakes slithering down my arms. Kicking my dagger out of its case, my eager palm caught it. Keeping them by side, their glowing eyes were seeking out danger. Crashing through twists and turns, a couple of hisses had me skidding to stop. Glancing up, a tall slender goddess with violet eyes appeared over me. Her slicked back silver hair glistened in the flickering office lights, a silver flute hovered by her lips. Horror rounded my eyes, my blade expanding. Smashing my blade into her flute, the darn thing clattering to the cheap carpet. Noting the crack by feet, the maze was set to reset again. Kicking it into the crack, the cubicles shifted around once more. The metal groaned, a rotten scent twirled from the end of the flute. Seeking a way out from the bomb that was going to harm us, a weak point presented itself. Kicking her back into the air, a space big enough for us opened up. Motioning for them to follow, musty air lashed at our cheeks as we crashed through several floors. Hitting a desk, office supplies rolled onto the floor. Dust rained down with pieces of ceiling hitting my face, Wut and Croak crashing onto me. Pushing them off, time wasn’t in our deck of cards. Sitting up with a gruff groan, every muscle screamed in protest. Hopping off the desk, a cafeteria caught my eyes. Leaping over the cubicles, flute music had chills running up my spine. Venomous gas seeped through the cracks, the clear glass walls of the cafeteria would protect us. Jumping over the last one, our boots pounded towards the glass doors. Ripping them open, we skidded into the large sterile room. Locking the doors behind us, that damn fog claimed the rest of the floor. Stacking several tables against the doors, something had to give. Ignoring their protests, something had to cancel out the fog. Croak’s usual nightmares wouldn’t do, my palm pressing against the glass. Flitting between the many objects, a gust of fresh air was what we needed. Several shadow snakes slithered down my arms, their hissing guiding me to a loose tile. Plucking the tile from the floor, a golden flute glinted in the flickering lights. Tucking my blade into my belt, a rush of energy blew my loose strands about the moment I brought it to my lips. Blowing the one song I knew, purified wind flooded from the end. Spinning it in between my fingers, this was our ticket out. Croak bounced onto my back, her chin resting on my head. Feeling her soft gray suit against my skin had me feeling better, her blade grazing my cheek.
“Cool flute, love.” She sang gleefully, plucking it from my fingers. “How you managed across one of three golden flutes bemuses me. Shall I play it for you? The flute happens to be my favorite instrument.” Caving in with a long breath, she flipped off of my back. Landing with a spin, excitement buzzed in her eyes. Bringing the flute to her lips, complex notes flowed magically. My breath hitched at its beauty, the purified wind blasting the glass. Covering myself with my arms, another gust of wind had the shards shooting into the distance. A shrill fuck had us shrinking back, the venom dissolving upon contact with the purified air. Continuing to play, our enemy’s notes were harsh compared to Croak’s gentle notes. Playing louder, Wut and myself sought a way to get closer to this goddess. Assuming that water was her power, the moment they unleashed that side would mean the twins were here. Closing my eyes, two more energies were approaching. Opening my eyes to a concerned Wut, my lips pressed into a thin line. The twins were on their way and we were outnumbered, regret dimming my eyes.
“Scout out the twins’ locations and come back to me. I have a problem to deal with before they get here.” I whispered into his ear, his head nodding once. Sinking into his smoke, my boots pounded towards our target. Dodging a splash of water, my body smashed into the floor. Snatching her ankle, a disconcerting alarm rounded her eyes at me throwing her through several floors. Catching her flute, a strong squeeze had it crumbling to pieces. Whistling for Croak to follow, her hand grabbed mine the moment I jumped into the hole. Using the rebar to slow our descent, the goddesses body twitched on top of a desk, her broken bones beginning to heal. Angling my elbow for her spine, Croak did the same. Striking her spine at full strength, the vertebrates shattered to dust. Unable to move, a ribbon of violet blood poured from her lips. Flipping to our feet, we raised our blades over our heads. Swinging our blades towards her heart, a shrill shriek rattled the building the moment we pierced her heart. Twisting our blades in deeper, her body seized until it decayed to a cloud of dust. Plucking the heart off of the tips of our blades, the organ shriveled into a black ball of tissue. Tucking it into an evidence bag, clues rested in this organ. Croak raised her hand for a high five, my palm smacked hers with a matching crazed grin. One problem was solved, two more were coming our way. The building groaned underneath our boots, Wut swooping in to whisk us out of the crumbling structure. Running on smoke discs, his boots hit the ashy gray dirt. Hiding us behind the thickest tree, the twins came into view in their usual outfits of a pink dress and a white suit. Tapping their blades against their legs, lightning bounced off of their bodies. Wishing that Morte was here, a loud boom had concrete and dust raining down over us. Poking my head around the trunk, a pile of rubble hid their bodies. Something felt off, the twins appearing over our heads. Sparks fluttered in the air with the violent clash of our blades, lightning whipping over our heads. Kicking Salacia in the stomach, her body shot into the sky. Spinning my blade over my head, a swift swing sent her twin in the opposite direction. Wut staggered over to us, a gaping wound stealing my breath away. Turning towards Croak, no words needed to be said. Tossing him over her shoulder, she was gone in a second. Calculating when they would come back down, hollow footsteps echoed behind me. A female version of Wut approached me in black robes, ivory waves floating in the hot air in her neon smoke around her worn boots. Playing with a neon whip, her neon green eyes glowed with adventure. An annoyed sigh poured from my lips, today seeming to be run by Murphy's law.
“I sensed my beloved Wut. Where is he?” She mused with a sly grin, her eyes falling on the twins flying back towards us. “Give him up or die.” Cursing under my breath, time was not on my side. Cracking her whip in my direction, the rubble groaned in protest with my jump back. Gritting my teeth, a low growl rumbled in my throat.
“He works for me by choice. If he wanted to leave your creepy ass because of acts of pure insanity, that isn’t on me. All of that falls on you, sweetheart.” I pointed simply, a snarl twitching on her inky lips. “Not that I have time but let’s handle this.” Charging at her, twirls avoiding her whip with ease. Focusing a bit better, her whip cut my cheek. Narrowing my eyes in direction, her whip deflected my blade. The twins appeared behind her, their blades glinting in the air. Tackling my new enemy to the rubble, two blades sunk into my back. Neon tears slid down her cheeks, the corner of her lips quivering. Blood pooled in my throat, the bastards ripping their blades out of my back. Watching my blood paint their features, small electrical burns dotted my back. Feverish apologies flowed from her lips, my tears splashing onto her face while my blood began to stain her robe.
“Why?” She choked out through a waterfall of tears and sniffles, her trembling hands wiping the corner of my lips. “I was going to kill you.” Shrugging my shoulders, my patience was wearing thin. Struggling to my feet, my knees met the twins’ stomachs. Painting my face with their blood, the burst organs had me chuckling to myself. Kicking their blades away from them, my fingers curled around their throat. Pinning them to the closest trees, every breath felt like hard labor.
“Like hell you are getting away this time.” I threatened starkly between wheezes, their fingers clawing at hands. Another energy swallowed the space in a cloudy darkness, two claws piercing their hearts. Their heads bobbed a couple of times before dropping for the final time, panic twisting my features. Cursing under my breath, they needed help. Ripping them off the claws, a faint pulse had me sighing with relief. Tossing one of them to my new friend, the other one was tossed over my shoulder. Using my sword to find the exit, she took the other one. Whisking them away, an eerie silence came over the dimension. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, a lump forming in my throat at wicked feminine laughter behind me.
“Fine, you can have my puppets but I am going to take over the damn world.” She bragged with a fit of maniacal giggles, the rubble crunching as I spun to face my new nemesis. Inky straight hair floated down to her ankles, her golden dragon eyes watching me tremble in my spot. Golden horns twisted into the sky, golden scales lining her cheeks. Clicking her black claws together, fresh tears cascaded from my eyes. Unable to move, something about her powers had me frozen in my spot. Her fur robes swayed with every circle around me, her inky lips curling into a sneer. Words bounced around my mind, the color draining from my face at a spell keeping my mouth shut.
“I am giving you one chance to join my team. Be the new number one of Stormana’s league of forgotten gods.” She chuckled with a twisted grin, a fire rising in her throat. Gripping my blade desperately, the crunching stopped with her in front of me. Shaking my head, a defiant grin curled on my pale face. Feeling my heart rate pick up, any nerves I had left fled at golden flames undoing my bun. Wincing through the agony of burns on my cheek, her claw traced my body. Bringing her hand back, Croak appeared over her. Shaking my head, Croak refused to listen. Spinning her blade over her head, one of her claws cut off her head. Rolling to my feet, her limp body hit the toe of my boot. The raw agony of losing my friend broke the silence curse, tortured wails exploding from my lips. Unable to fight the depression, no rage could come to my assistance.
“That will keep happening until you join my side.” She warned venomously, pure hatred burning in her eyes as golden flames whisked her away. Sinking to my knees, Croak was already decaying to ash, violent sobs wracking my body. Scooping up her head, my muscles ached as I crawled over to her body. Hugging all of her close to my body, her hand clutched mine. Her eyes fluttered open, her tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Give my heart to Cal and tell him that I love him.” She wheezed with a broken smile, her hand gripping mine tighter as my tears splashed onto her face. “Don’t cry for me. I did it on my own accord, love. I love you, love.” Her hand hit my lap, the rest of her decaying into a pile of ash. A gust of wind blew her into the air, her heart glowed in my palm. Curling into a ball, claws extended from my fingertips. Clutching her heart close to my chest, the dimension glitched out to a busy park in the middle of the day. Shrinking my sword back down to a dagger, my trembling hand shoved it into its case. A crowd gathered around me, none of it mattering. The twins shoved everyone aside, both of them getting everyone to get on with their day. Bowing down to me, their foreheads were pressed to the lush grass.
“We vow to serve you with all the life we have left.” They vowed together, the previous mark shifting to inky snakes around their arms as they sat on their haunches. Saying nothing else, Wut’s face fell at the sight of Croak’s heart. Scooping me up, he tossed me over his shoulder. Too numb to protest, his words faded in and out on the way back to the hearse. Sitting me down in the back, his sharp eyes scanned me over for any more wounds than the obvious ones. Mixing potions while trying to get me to talk, the freak with a whip bowed at my feet. Vowing her allegiance to me, this had Wut written all over it. Hovering her face inches from mine, the burns on my cheek refused to heal into a smooth scar. Crying for a minute, her fingers caught a couple of tears. Rubbing them on my cheek, the angry scars faded to a smooth cheek. Mumbling a dejected thank you, Wut shoving a vial down my throat had it ending swiftly. Ignoring everyone checking me over, the sole thing I could focus on was the heart in my quivering palm. Getting up without a word, I climbed into the driver’s seat. The other’s jumped into the back, my appearance being the most normal one. Fishing around the glove box, an evidence bag fell onto the seat. Sliding her heart into the bag, I placed it onto my lap. Shoving the key in, the silence was deafening. Missing her endless chatter, discreet weeps shook my body the whole ride back. Pulling up to the front, Cal waited with a big smile with my girls and son. Hopping out, I placed my finger on my lips to quiet the others. Motioning for him to come with me, dread bubbled in my gut at what I had to do. The poor guy had lost one wife and now he was losing another love in his life. Walking with him in the garden, his face fell at my obvious tears. Presenting him with Croak’s heart, any composure he had died in seconds. Raising his fist for my face, it stopped inches from my face. Shit, I deserved every ounce of rage heading my way.
“You can hit me. I don’t mind.” I spoke with a dejected smile, bowing my head in shame. “Please hate me for the rest of your l-” Burying me into a bear hug, his tears soaked the top of my head. Hating myself for my failure, his hands cupped my tear drenched face. Smiling kindly in my direction, the sorrow wore on his face.
“If I knew Croak, she chose to try to save you. Thank you for her heart.” He sighed sorrowfully, his hand curling around her heart. “Do you want to see what she wanted me to do with it?” Taking a step back, his black dress shirt fluttered in a gust of cool wind. Holding it in his palms, the organ hardened to a ruby heart. Wonder softened the blow of my sorrow, his hand tucking it into the pocket of his dark jeans. Hugging me one last time, his footfalls echoed hollowly away from me. Morte called for me, the stress becoming too much. Sprinting out of the garden, the brick wall grazed the heel of my boots. Crunching into the woods, branches scratched my cheeks. Running until I couldn’t, a cave had me smiling brokenly to myself. Sliding down the slick gray wall, my hands rested on my knees. Alone, I needed to be alone.
“Hey.” A meek voice called out, Wut’s friend sitting down across from me. “I am Eris, Wut’s girl. Do you want to talk?” Staring dumbly at her glowing eyes, that was a rare question for me to be asked. Croak always asked me what was on my mind, another wave of tears rattling my body. Scooting over to me, her arms pulled me into an awkward embrace. Burying my head into her shoulder, her embrace becoming like the bear hugs Croak used to smother me in. Sobbing harder into her chest, my fingers grasping desperately at her robes. Letting me cry until the moon claimed the sky, her hands cupped my cheeks. Wiping away my tears with her thumbs, her crooked grin was her natural smile. Attempting to smile back, her palm slid to cover my mouth.
“You don’t need to smile when you can’t.” She assured me sweetly, lowering her hand to her lap. “Let the grief course through you. Then you can get revenge for her loss.” Laughing honestly to myself, Eris was amazing in the best way. Popping to her feet, my muscles refused to move. Placing me on her back, the warmth of her flames had exhaustion slapping me in the face. Draping my arms around her neck, the hood of her robe felt soft against my wet cheeks. Carrying me back, Morte thanked her for getting me. Choosing not to berate me, his arms placed me onto his back. Carrying me into the living room, her heart glistened in the center of a worn coffee table. A metal bowl with Celtic markings containing pieces of blessed parchment papers fluttered in the bottom, a piece of paper waiting for me. Smiling to myself, the funeral was rather touching. Sitting me down on the couch, my fingers curled around a raven feather quill. Dipping the tip into the inkwell, the tip couldn’t stop moving. Moving the favorite memories onto the back, tears of joy mixed the sad ones as I folded the paper. Placing my paper on the top, Hel and the others huddled close to me as Cal placed her heart in the center. Pouring his blood over the paper, ruby stained the sea of parchment and ink. Pressing his palms together, his words were dripping with tears.
“Dear Lord, grant her soul an entrance into Heaven. Help her reach the stars she dreamed of touching.” He wept brokenly, struggling to continue to speak. “Do this one for me. If you can’t let her in, give her a generous second chance. Amen.” Golden flames devoured everything, the crystal melting into a sea of sparkling ash. A warm breeze akin to Croak’s love had the ash fluttering out the open window. A pensive smile hung in the air, an alarm in the kitchen caused one of the brothers to rush out of the room. Not one word was spared, the energy in the room brightening at Miles and the girls hugging me from all sides. Kissing them feverishly, Morte plopped down next to me. Clapping his hands, all eyes fell on him.
“How about we tell funny stories with Croak?” He suggested with a gentle smile, the others raising their glasses of wine in honor of Croak. “I think we need to celebrate all that she was.” The twins hovered awkwardly in the doorway, the couch groaning as I leapt over the back. Approaching them with a comforting smile, neither one could look me in the eyes.
“I forgive you. Whatever was driving you guys before doesn’t matter.” I promised them while taking their hands, their tense expressions softening. “Look, the past is water under the bridge. Work bold and true by my side, and you can have true joy in your life. I am pointing out that your marks prevent you from killing anyone in our group. Trust will be found eventually. Please be patient with me.” Flinching as I reached out to embrace them, the years of abuse were apparent. Noticing the soft terror haunting their expressions, the floor announced that I was giving them space.
“If you need to talk about your shitty childhood, I am all ears. Don’t open up if you don’t want to.” I continued with my genuine smile, both twins brightening up a bit. “Your mother was a bitch and if you didn’t kill her I was going to eventually. Thank you for the help.” Ruffling their hair the way Mr. Bone used to do to me, something lit the fire of hope back up into me. If I could bring what was left of the Bone family back together, that damn dragon lady didn’t stand a damn chance. Guiding them to the table, the girls showed off their bunnies. Miles looked glum, my hand waved him over. Walking him up to my bedroom, I presented him with a silver wrapped box. Remember that Croak wrapped it with me, silent tears stained my cheeks. Wrapping paper flew everywhere, his face illuminating at the boy rabbit in blue overalls laying in the bottom of the box. Wiping away my tears before he noticed, his arms draped around my neck. Remembering what Croak spoke once, she always told me to cherish what I had. Kissing the top of his head, his tiny feet bounced down the stairs. The girls joined him in playing, Morte appearing at the bottom of the stairs. Climbing each step with a more broken expression, the wrapping paper crunched underneath him as he plopped down next to me. Pulling me onto his lap, his strong hands buried my face into his shoulder. Another wave of grief had me sobbing harder into his shoulder, the word sleep ringing in my ear. Sinking into a rough slumber, Morte’s humming was the last thing I heard.

In an undisclosed government research facility, scientists have created a new form of warfare. What they created were soulless troops with the hopes of building an undying army. Automatons or warforged as they came to be called. It was fairly new tech after all and no one knew how well they worked. The soulless automaton was put to training for 1 year. It was taught hand to hand, sword play, and athletics. After the basics were concluded, it was made to fight real opponents, slaves scrounge from war torn towns or bought off black markets. With a promise that they'll get riches for defeating this mindless bot.
For an entire year this went on, not one bested the automaton, some came close but none succeeded. By it's metal hands countless people were sent to an early grave. None deserving of the savagery displayed. One day a young man is sent in to duel. Couldn't have been more than 17. They entered the arena and awaiting the buzzer to start. BZZZZT The alarm rings. The bot doesn't hesitate, neither the teen. They go after each other and though the kid did get some lucky strikes. Showing promise and talent for the sword. It only lasted for so long before the bots wrath reached him and plunged its sword through his chest. Staring down at the teen who laid there sucking air thru the hole in his chest. The teen cried for someone until life finally left him. The bot never showed remorse for these unfortunate souls. But this time for some reason or jostled wire. Felt the start of something in it chest. A tightness but it only lasted a second before the cold logic and programming kicked back.
This continued to happen, the tightness in it's chest growing. The more it fought in these duells, the more the tightness grew. A new day, another session. A child not more than 5 years old was thrown into the arena with the bot. Not with weapon, shield or cloths. Just a battered and bruised child. Defenseless. The researchers told the bot to exterminate the child. For reasons unknown to the bot but it didn't care. It had it's orders. As the bot readied it's sword and began unto to the child. The tighteness in it's chest came again. Stronger than ever. Freezing it's swing inches from the child's head. Programming trying for control to continue the swing, the tightness fighting against it. The researches baffled as this never happened.
This automaton for an entire year has fought without relent, without mercy. So why now. They didn't know, the data was perfect. No issues, no faults no nothing. But yet in front of them, this machine frozen in place. . They instucted the machine to finish the task. The machines hands trembled, it's programming jarring for control. The tightness in his chest compounding and crashing like a wave against rock. Slowly eroding the hard set programming. The machine shut down. Frozen in place. Sword in hand and just above the now unconscious child.
The researchers confused, not sure what just happened. Came into the arena to diagnose the bot. Two of them in white coats. One carrying diagnostic tools and the other a data sheet from the duel. As they got to the machine, one of them spoke "well ain't that something, worked perfectly for an entire year and then it just shuts down" the other researcher responds "maybe it's battery finally ran out, we never did get concrete data on how long the battery can last". Both now in front of the machine. One says "well what do we do with the kid?" The other researcher scratched the back of his head "the runt is out cold and will probably refuse to come back in here. Better just get rid of him. Get a guard in here to haul him away."
The bot while frozen can hear, he knows what happens to lab rats who aren't useful. He knows what going to happen to that kid. A voice in his head starts to shout " GET A MOVE ON, MOVE YOU FUCKER" but his legs won't move, his servos locked on place, "COME ON, MOVE IF YOU DONT THAT KID WILL DIE AND ITLL BE YOUR FAULT" his hands start to tremble."YOUVE DONE ENOUGH KILLING, SAVE ONE, JUST SAVE HIM" while the bots head is full of shouting, from an unknown voice and programming holding control. Armed guards come in to haul the boy away. As they step past the bot and reach for the boy. Once more the voice shouts now with anger and rage "SAVE HIM YOU FUCKING USELESS BUCKETS OF BOOOOLTS". This last command forces the bots hand, cutting the guard closest to him in two, rotating his sword to the other and lops the guards head off.
The researchers terrified start to run away while one tries to order the machine to shut down. As he issued commands, the bots steps became heavy. " YOURE GONNA LISTEN TO HIM? WHAT FOR?" the bot moves closer, each step a resounding thud as this hulking mass inching ever closer to the one shouting at him. "GO ON KILL HIM, THESE ARE THE ONES WHO DESERVE YOUR BLADE" The researcher now slumped on his ass scared shitless as this machine encroaches on him with cold lifeless eyes fixed on him. The researcher screamed for mercy but yet none was there for him.
The bot walked back over to the kid. Nudging him to wake him but he didnt wake. The bot scanned the boy. The bots sensors telling him that the kids heart stopped. "this is your fault, he died cause of you" the voice in it's head said, in a sad somber tone. The bot put both hands in his head covering his audio sensors to shut the voice out " ITS YOUR FAULT, ITS ALL MY FAULT" the bot roared in pitiful agony, falling to its knees. The alarm rang, snapping the bot out of it's crumbling. He stood up slowly and stood over the boy. He turned and ran away.
Pushing past any one in his way. Some tried to stop him but who can stop a 6'7" metal man weighing in at 405lbs running at full speed. No one can. They'll either be forced aside or turned into paste. It found an exit broke through the door and it was all woods. It was a rainy night, no stars or moon. Just darkness. He chose a random direction and ran. Ran through the night and away from the nightmare. As the bot ran he tripped and tumbled. It pushed itself up and over onto its back. Laying in the mud the voice started "What will you do now, where can you go? No where obviously, you got no home. You can't go back either theyll scrap me the second I walk inside. So what now. You can't go to a village. I don't deserve to be in a village anyways, all the people I've killed" suddenly a torrent of memories, a memory of each person he slayed in combat. How he cut and ripped them all apart. The bot now breathing heavily "I'm too dangerous anyways" more memories of people slain. Raising his hands in front for his face. His hands stained with blood. "I'll stay in these woods, it'll be safer for everyone" he looked up to the night sky and for the first time he realized it. He was truly alone and he deserved to be alone. He broke down crying and weeping. Not understanding what the voice in his head, or what this feeling is. He just knows that he's blibbering like that teen he ran his sword thru. He's now howling in whatever feeling this is. The bot now broken and the programming now relented all control to whatever this is. The bot screamed until it was morning, howling like a mad broken man.
For the next few weeks, it walked these woods. No place to go, no final Destination. Just walked. All the while the memories of those he killed, that boy who he frightened enough to drive his heart still. All in his head. An entire year of carnage. "What even is this. Why now do i think? Why now do i feel? Whatever feeling this is. I dont like it. Like a bag of stone, sitting heavy on my chest" He rested against a thick dead tree. It's branches thick yet broken. The trunk burnt and scarred. Yet standing strong even if it's dead. "well at least youll have a companion for the coming years, sorry it ain't good one tho" The bot unsheathed it's sword, and looked at the blood stained blade. "Ya know, i wish that kid would've lived, I could've taken him somewhere. Maybe a village. I could've protected him till he was safe" he looked up to the sky. "But no, I'm such a menace that I've killed him without even touching him." It looks back down to his sword once more. "I just hope those people can find peace". He turns the swords point towards his gut. He sadly whispers "this is all i can do to atone for them, one less evil" at that he thrusts his sword into himself. Expecting pain and anguish yet there was none. If anything it felt a thud and tugging. Like his sword wouldnt do his own master in, resisting its masters hand. A root from the tree had sprouted and grabbed hold of the sword. Making him miss his mark and striked just beside him into the trees blackened bark.
A voice called out but not his "I've watched you child. Since you came into these woods, I've followed you. Heard your anguish, heard your tears and suffering. The sins you've committed are not yours solely". The bot shouts back " WHO ARE YOU! WHY STOP ME! MY EXISTANCE DOESNT BENEFIT THIS WORLD. NOT AFTER ALL IVE DONE". The bot struggled against the roots now determined to yank the sword free and continue its path to its own metal. "Child" the mystic voice spoke quietly "What you seek is repentance, if you truly want to make the world better. Killing yourself won't change anything, but going into the world and fighting against the injustices will." The bot stopped struggling at that "but how, all I can do is wield a sword, all I can do is kill." the mystic voice chuckled " oh don't worry plenty of injustice can be righted by your sword but not every problem can be fixed with a sword. Become my champion and i shall show you the path." The bot blinked "champion? What is that and who are you?" the disembodied voice once again chuckled a hearty laugh "oh child they truly didn't teach anything at the facility you came from".
"I am Beory the goddess of nature and you shall be my champion. Youll spread my word and protect the innocent, just as you wished to do in the final moments with that child." The bot now looking down contemplating for a few seconds and then looking towards the sky "alright Beory, this machine will be your champion. On one condition." the goddess laughed " oh what may that be? " Bot responds "the people who've done this, the people who do things like this. They all die. No mercy or sanction for them." The bot hissed in a low tone. Beory is quiet for a few seconds "I dont see a problem with that, they are enemies of the light after all." "right then, this machine will be your champion from now on!" Bot exclaimed.
"Oh wonderful but we can't have you calling yourself machine. Would you like me to name you? " Bot now confused "what's a name? They'll always called machine." Beory replied " I'll name you them, mmm. Let's see... ah I got it! Rayard! It's a fitting name. A strong name for a strong machine!" Bo...Rayard now struck in silence. A feeling welling up inside him, it was warm. "Thats happiness by the way, you'll have plenty of time to understand your new consciousness and soul now that you gripped reality for yourself" Beory whispered as she released the roots entangling Rayards sword.
Rayard sheathing his sword "I just hope I can make whatever this is worth it to those I've felled." " then follow my path and you will. There's a village a few months walk south of here. I'll have you go there, there's something there you must do" beory remarked. Rayard still shaken and full of mixed unknowns. Still grappling with his memories. Had now a path, what that entails shall soon be found out.

Lawman
A drop of scarlet fell into the dust.
Hauke ignored the bullet hole in his side and kept reloading. There would be time to bleed later.
He sat in a battered wooden chair under an awning, with one leg draped over its arm, eyes staring intently down the dirt road. A rhythmic metal clicking came from the guns he held as he filled their cylinders with fresh shells. But his eyes never left the road. There was no need; his hands worked without thought.
Beyond the awning, the sky was bare, the town was still, and the planet’s twin suns blazed with fury. Heat shimmered off the hard-packed dirt road running through the center of Aeos, and sweat made tracks down Hauke's face through the dust. Gehenna was technically a moon, though larger than most planets, stark and strange, a waterless desert world of jagged black mountains and sunbaked hardpan on the edge of Alliance space—on the edge of nowhere.
Most who worked at Deepcore's mining facility called the moon The Withered Lands. An apt name Hauke thought, for a place of perpetual sunlight and crushing heat. A place barren of life. No where any but a witling would wish to call home.
He was only here because corporate greed put this lonely settlement on a fringe world otherwise deemed uninhabitable; corporate greed and a ready supply of desperate people - the disillusioned and the displaced, the utterly broken. For most, their lives were a legacy of misery, and they left behind a past they hoped to forget. There was never a shortage of such expendables in a galaxy riddled with crime and war. No one would miss them. No one cared. That's why the outlaws chose this shit hole to put down roots. There were vulnerable people here, a flock of sheep placidly going about their daily lives as the wolves circled, and no Alliance security to protect them. Easy pickings.
Hauke shook his head and slid another round into an empty chamber. Shame, really. These are decent folk. Better than the other sewers he’d policed.
Then he shrugged.
Good people they might be, but it didn't matter. It should, but it didn’t. They were expendable. Everyone was, after a fashion, even Hauke.
Every worker who stepped off a Deepcore transit shuttle into the dust and the heat was undeniably corporate fodder, disposable flesh to be used and discarded like soiled toilet paper. Deepcore made no bones about this practice, nor did they bother with any pretense that their workers on Gehenna were anything but company fodder. Why should they? No one with wealth enough to matter was paying attention. Nobody in the Core gave two shits about a bunch of dregs dying on the Fringe. Who would? Alliance authorities? Funny. The money-made politicians in the halls of power wouldn't waste a bucket of piss on what they deemed rats squabbling for the right to live in society's sewers, filthy beggars and low-born rabble best ignored by their betters. Why waste resources cleaning them out when, given enough time, disease and starvation would do the job for them?
Hauke snapped his pistol's cylinder up into its housing and gave it an experimental spin. The smooth, well-oiled clicking that came forth drew a smile across his sun-roughened face. It was a warm and comforting sound, like a fireplace in winter. If you took care of your guns, they would take care of you.
Hauke favored the classics over the garbage that companies were peddling these days, six shooters from an era lost in time. They were reliable, never overheated or shorted, and were effective on anything that ever walked or crawled in the mud - given the proper ammo. The thunder of their song sent even the most hardened criminals fleeing for cover.
He paused his reloading and studied the brass casing he held. It was a Spartan Arms Blacktip, called shatter rounds on the streets. They were expensive, hard to come by, and highly deadly. And illegal. The speed loaders clipped to the tac-belt circling his waist held the same rounds. Even a Treskori's thick armored hide offered little protection against these babies.
Movement caught the corner of his eye and drew his attention to the north.
A small Dazkani woman darted out of a nearby alleyway and across the street, a lavender-skinned child in tow, rushing for a two-room cabin very much like his own. Her tan robes were trimmed in black and embroidered across the shoulders in her house pattern. Each frantic step revealed flashes of light purple flesh on a muscular thigh where the robes were divided down the side.
His eyes followed her progress.
Then the cabin door slammed shut behind them, and she peered out through its only window with jet black eyes full of fear.
Hauke shook his head. Though he didn't blame the people of Aeos. They were afraid, and for a good reason. Outlaws calling themselves The Reapers, with blade and barrel and cruel ways, had taken by force what little joy these people had found and made each day a misery. Then came Hauke and his revolvers, claiming to be the answer, though they only saw another killer here to sink his teeth into their town.
Eyes watched from windows and doorways across Aeos. He could feel their itch upon his skin, too many eyes and wringing hands awaiting the coming confrontation. If the Reapers won today, they would turn their ire upon the people of Aeos. Things would get ugly. Fast. No wonder they were worried. Hauke was just one man against dozens of killers. He smiled. That almost made it an even fight.
Whatever happens today, he thought, absently running an oilcloth over his gun and his eyes over the town. These people would do well to cut their losses and make for the inner systems far from Deepcore and outlaws and the wild lawlessness of The Outer Fringe. They would live longer and be happier for it.
He took up his second pistol, its nickel finish reflecting sharp flashes of silver in the sunlight.
Brass casings fell at his feet.
Deepcore was supposed to be the shining star of the mining industry, a leader among leaders whose policies demanded quality of life for all its employees and family-first values that resonated down to the lowest janitor. A good PR story, Hauke thought. Tall tells for the gullible and chronically stupid.
Anyone with two brain cells fighting for third place should understand it was all a carefully crafted illusion, a shiny veneer overlaying the odious truth, the plots, the lust for profits, treacherous ways corps did business.
Hauke's fingers moved with practiced grace, and the clicking continued. Red dripped from his side.
How many politicians must have been bought over the years to maintain such an elaborate facade? How many innocent people were stuffed into early graves to protect the dark secrets? His frown deepened. Too many.
In his experience, corruption was a disease that most often began at the top and snaked its way down through long-sitting senators and middling managers, black tendrils of rot coiling through the layers of a midden heap. Parasites, all of them. Getting fat and rich off the blood and tears of ordinary folk who want to live in peace and enjoy what few comforts they can afford.
But Hauke knew there was no such thing on the Fringe. Not on Gehenna. Not for the dregs, anyway. His stomach twisted, and he slowly ran the oilcloth over his second gun. Not in this galaxy.
He lifted his eyes and scanned the area. Aeos was a town built with the cheapest fiberplast factory Prefabs Hauke had ever seen. The kind of flimsy boxlike structures meant only for a temporary settlement, never a permanent city. Some buildings still showed faint traces of the original terracotta red from the factory. But most gleamed bone white in the harsh sunlight, pitted and wind-worn like the skeletal remains of some long-dead titan strewn across the sand. When the town died, like those before it, Deepcore would erect another on the sands that held its corpse. Even Gehenna could not stop profits.
Off to the west, the dark silos and rumbling machinery of the vast mining operation loomed over Aeos like a cruel overlord, uncaring of their suffering and singular in its purpose. Columns of thick black smoke rose from its inner workings to stain the sky, and an endless procession of thick-hulled barges—laden with ore until their sides bulged—strained for orbit. Day and night, the Impervium ore flowed from Gehenna's mines to fatten the pockets of Deepcore's elite back in the heart of the Corporate Alliance. Here was a state-of-the-art operation save three things: no drones, no automated equipment, and no modern conveniences; Aeos was built with shithouse parts. Profits again.
Even the barges were operated by organics, with no autopilot or AI-driven software. The moon's electromagnetic something-or-other interfered with guidance systems, so they did everything the old-fashioned way. And then there was Gehenna's powdery dust. It held magnetic particles that worked their way into the delicate inner guts of electronics and advanced machinery, sparing no circuit or wire. That's why they needed flesh and blood workers to do the job—blood sacrifices laid out upon the corporate altar.
As for Aeos itself, there was little else to it. Flat-roofed cabins with tattered awnings shading tiny porches crowded either side of the road. A few dilapidated parts shops and rundown diners, a large closed-air market beside a cluster of tall water tanks beaded with sweat. A sprawling communications array. A small starport built on a nearby plateau just outside town, made hazy by blowing dust. There were no Sky Towers rising from sprawling cityscapes, or manicured parks to bring beauty to this desolate place. No holographic skyways filled the night skies with the endless glittering lights of air traffic. None of the high-tech glitz and glow he was so accustomed to seeing on even the poorest of Alliance worlds. Aeos was sterile and rundown, abandoned by hope.
But today, that changed.
Hauke glanced at the upper edge of his augmented vision. Twenty past eleven local time, Gehenna time. His jaw muscles tensed, and he climbed to his feet, spinning his pistols into their holsters.
Time to settle an old score.
All was quiet as he stepped out into the dust-blown street, the laughter of children at play gone silent and the hustle and bustle of the little mining town strangely absent. Indeed nothing stirred but the wind, which briefly transformed the approaching outlaw into a grainy silhouette etched into the swirling dust.
Threiner.
The name came to him unbidden, a harsh whisper in his thoughts. A sudden surge of heat rose in his chest, an electric quickening of the heart. This was the culmination of a decades-long search and perhaps some small comfort for an old wound that had never fully healed. He'd come here to take the outlaw back to Ryari Prime to face Alliance justice, alive or maybe dead. It didn't matter.
Behind Threiner, a massive cerulean sphere twice the size of Jupiter filled the sky. Layer upon layer of milky clouds and swirling blue eddies drifted across its surface, vibrant hues muted behind a thin white haze. It rose from behind jagged black peaks that cut across the horizon, and he had to tilt his eyes to take it all in; an immense orb haloed in shimmering silver rings spreading wide across the sky. Hyperion was its name, a titanic gas giant and the largest planet in the A-9 system. A trick of its size, or perhaps Gehenna’s atmosphere, made Hyperion appear close enough for him to touch, as though Hauke could reach out and swirl a finger in the layers.
At last!
A voice rose from the stillness of his mind. A familiar voice. Peace for your father. Peace so that we can sleep. The heat in his chest blazed into a blinding thirst for vengeance, a wildfire out of control. It tried to overwhelm him. He shook with the effort of holding it back, teetering on the edge of sanity. His hands trembled as they inched toward his guns, fingertips brushing aged ivory handles—eager to let them sing.
Why do you fight me? The voice said. He is our enemy. An outlaw. A murderous swine who's earned a thousand deaths. That it should be by your hand can only be seen as justice—a just thing for all his victims.
No…I…
Think. The voice was a silken purr, a whisper of falling gossamer across his skin. It caressed him with seduction. Think of all who cry out from the grave. They cry out for vengeance! Who would hear their silent words? Give them justice. Give them peace. Kill Threiner. Kill him now!
No! Hauke's shout was a silent snarl, teeth bared, face twitching. He would not dishonor his father's memory or his badge. It was unthinkable! He was an Alliance Marshal, a man sworn to justice like his father before him. And justice was what he meant to have. Not murder.
Save your twisted words, brother. I'll not hear them.
The voice retreated like the battering waves of a storm that suddenly lost their fury and fell back into the sea. It took all of his strength to stuff the voice back down into the hollows of his mind, where it waited, lambent eyes in the dark. You will see in time that I know you, even if you do not know yourself. We are the same, brother, the voice whispered.
When Hauke was sure he'd mastered himself, he took a step forward. Then another. Another.
There were forty feet between them when he stopped and angled his body toward the outlaw. "Surrender, Threiner," he raised his voice to carry the distance and over the low moan of the wind. It sounded strange coming from his mask, a slightly electronic resonance. "Lay down your weapon. Now."
Their eyes locked, and the outlaw only scowled.
Threiner was Treskori, so he wore no mask over those hideous reptilian features; his species required none. Their robust systems quickly adapted to nearly any environment, something humans did not share.
Without a mask, Hauke would be light-headed in less than a minute, air drunk, it was called. Nausea would rack his gut a short time later. Things would begin to dim, to shut down, starting with his ability to reason. Walking and talking would become a chore. Then he would collapse in the sand, delirious and confused, lungs gasping in the burning air. Darkness would come shortly after, a soulless void to consume his world. In the end, he would have no strength to call for help or the wits to understand what was happening to him. Not a fate to be envied.
Threiner's slitted black-and-yellow eyes bore into Hauke's, and for a tense moment, they held in a silent struggle. Neither moved or blinked, still as statues. Only the wind gave voice, twining its fingers through Hauke's shoulder-length hair and shifting the dust between his boots. Then Threiner's scaled lips slowly peeled back to reveal serrated teeth in a vile show of contempt. It was meant to frighten him and mock him, the cruel smile of a predator toying with its prey.
Hauke wasn't impressed. He'd seen his like before, many times, and they all bled the same with hot lead in their hearts.
Yet an eight-foot Treskori with the speed of a gazelle was nothing to take lightly, a genuine threat. So Hauke remained cautious in case Threiner decided to rush. The outlaw held a heavy plasma cannon at his side in one massive three-clawed fist, tapping it idly against a thick trunk of a leg. One blast from that cannon would leave a basketball-sized hole in Hauke's chest if it left anything at all.
Threiner glared at him with supreme confidence. In Treskori culture, strength and size were the ultimate deciding factors, especially in battle. Yet even with a Treskori's great strength, that weapon—typically found mounted on assault vehicles—would be slow to wield, slow in a fight where speed mattered. Hauke resisted the urge to smile. Speed kills.
Threiner's eyes narrowed into suspicious slits, following Hauke's eyes down to the plasma cannon, then snapping back up. A sneer that would have frozen helium slowly spread across his face. There was no armor or personal shielding that could defend against that weapon. And Threiner knew it.
Speed kills.
Hauke's hands drifted to the weathered leather holsters belted low on his hips and the nickel-plated revolvers waiting within. Immaculate they were, with quick-draw barrels and feather lite triggers for rapid fire. Their song was blood and death, and he had no doubt they would sing it soon. Engraved In fancy script along each barrel were the pistols' names, Justice and Virtue, exquisite artistry by the hand of a master gunsmith. These rare treasures were passed to him by his father with a lineage tracing to the days of his father's great-grandfather and beyond. A time when outlaws roamed the untamed west, and lawmen hunted them wherever they hid.
Threiner turned his head slowly, deliberately keeping one evil eye on Hauke, and spit a huge gob of green-tinged saliva into the dust, then snapped his glare back into place.
"Be smart, Threiner," Hauke said, though every inch of him hummed on the razor's edge of violence, and every fiber hoped Threiner would twitch that cannon in the wrong direction. "And you might live to see the outside of a prison cell again one day." The mouthpieces back in the Core wanted Threiner brought back alive if possible. Alive was better for the holovids the senators wanted to run. But if Threiner even breathed wrong, Hauke would not hesitate.
"No surrender, human," Threiner's deep hiss was full of malice, and vast musculature rippled across his shirtless bulk. "Pain. Much pain for you." From his great height, Raim Threiner glared down at Hauke as though looking at an insect he meant to crush under his boot—a naturally occurring, ever-present scowl that twisted his ugly face beyond hideous.
Threiner turned his head and spat again. "Pain," he said, scraping the sharp tip of an ebon claw across his throat scales. "All pain for you." Threiner's massive plasma rifle still hung idle at his side, barrel pointed at the ground, unmoving. But his free hand clenched into a fist. Sunlight glittered off thousands of small granular scales covering his skin like viridian glass, and a low growl issued deep within his throat, an ominous rumble that would have sent lesser beings running. But Hauke had seen it all before, and he stood firm, his jaw set, hands poised and ready. Whatever was going to happen would happen. Nothing could change that now.
Abruptly Hauke realized that Threiner was doing his best to hide a nervous edge. And rightly so. Confidence was a necessity if you wished to stay alive in this business. But blind arrogance would get you killed.
Most in his business had heard the tales of the human Lawman with lightning in his hands and ice in his veins. Most believed it was nothing more than a fairy tale, something cooked up by the Badges to keep little outlaws awake at night. Yet something must have clicked in Raim's little lizard brain. Perhaps it was the bullet-riddled bodies of his gang strewn about and already rigid in the sunlight, posing as corpses pose, that made him understand the legendary Lawman now stood before him.
"Surrender," Hauke repeated, his tone hard and flat. The icy look in his eyes said there would be no further chances. His hands hovered over his guns. Sweat stained the crown of his wide-brimmed bolero. Red dripped down his side. A sudden wind rippled folds into his shirt, kicking up a dirty haze. Everything went quiet. He could hear his heart, feel its fire surging down to his fingertips. His eyes narrowed, but he willed himself not to blink.
His hands itched to rip the guns from their holsters and let them sing. It would be so easy. Threiner wouldn't have time to process that Hauke had pulled steel before he died. His hands trembled. But he would give the outlaw a chance to lay down his weapon. He always did.
His father once told him that a man's honor was all he truly possessed. All else could be taken away or destroyed. Material possessions and riches would become someone else's when you died. In time, even your spouse. But your honor, your legacy, was yours to keep forever. This was made all the more important in a galaxy rife with treachery. A man's honor was sacred. His father had believed that, and so did Hauke. He had killed outlaws, true, more than a few: humans, Treskori, even Jasei. If they broke the law, killed, raped, or pillaged across The Alliance, he hunted them down. Most had surrendered peacefully.
For those foolish enough to pull on him, things had always ended badly; this he did not deny. He was ruthless and cunning, as one must be to survive hunting the galaxy's worst. He would not waste time with denials. He would not pretend to be righteous. He had never found a sense of pride or pleasure in the violence. He was a professional. He did not kill for joy. He only killed when given no choice. Even Raim Threiner, his father's killer, deserved his day in court. That was justice. That was how the system worked. He would bring this vile creature back alive if he could. The rest was up to Threiner.
"No surrender, human," Threiner repeated, breaking into Hauke's thoughts and rolling his broad angular head atop an even wider neck. Only seconds had passed since he first spoke. A transverse crest of bony spikes connected by a thin membrane of leathery flesh fanned up across the crown of his skull, rattling and bristling with anger. "Much pleasure to kill you, Marshal scum shit."
His response did not surprise Hauke.
The plasma rifle started up, and Hauke's hands flashed. There was thunder and smoke, time slowed.
Threiner lay on his back when the smoke cleared, slitted eyes staring blindly at Gehenna's twin suns. Four massive holes leaked green down his chest and pooled in the sand. Hauke's pistols roared again, and two more holes erupted in Threiner's head. Better to be sure than pay the price of folly.
Guess the senators weren't going to get their holovid back in the Core. Well, piss on them. Hauke was a lawman, and there were no politicians here.
People emerged from their shacks, peering plaintively up and down the streets. Their eyes were still fearful, but something else kindled behind them.
Hauke turned, gleaming pistols still in hand and lifted his voice to carry.
“People of Aeos,” he scanned their faces, and saw hope dawning where before there was only despair. “Raim is dead. The Reapers are dead. You are free.”

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4
“Melissa Ethridge,” I said.
“What?”
“Melissa Ethridge,” I repeated, grabbing the car’s aux cord and plugging my phone in, “Listen”
Destiny twisted her face as the opening chords of Melissa Ethridge’s “Come to my Window” blared through the car speakers.
“Look,” I said, making my sales pitch, “I know its probably not your cup of tea, honestly, I’m not really crazy about 90’s lesbian rock n’ roll either, but it was the first thing that popped in my head when Indigo told us we needed an example of ‘true’ love or beauty.”
“I don’t think it’s a particularly beautiful song,” Destiny said, “Why this song? Why not Boyz II Men? ‘End of the Road’? Now that’s a pretty song”
“Because this is the first song I learned to play on the guitar. My Mom taught me before she died. I think that gives it special meaning to me. Even if it’s not the best song, it’s truly beautiful to me because it has special meaning.
Destiny thought for a beat, folded her arms and said, “Ok, you win. Not like I have any ideas anyway.”
An hour later we were back in my house absolutely blasting Melissa Ethridge out of my stereo system and staring at the leg from behind the couch waiting to see if anything would happen. Nothing did.
We cycled through every musical artist we could think of. Boyz II Men, Tiny Tim, Evanescence, Elton John. We even tried whale calls and several podcasts. Nothing happened other than the lights flickering a bunch when we played the Beach Boys, we got the sense the leg was growing stronger and feeding off the awful music The Beach Boys played so we quickly turned it off.
“Maybe you have to play the music yourself,” Destiny suggested.
It was as good a guess as any, so I grabbed my guitar and started playing “Come to my Window”. Initially, outside of Destiny’s pained wincing, my playing didn’t seem to make much of a difference, but after about 30 seconds the skin on the leg seemed to ripple and move. I focused and sang even harder, which made Destiny wince even harder, but I didn’t mind - it was working! Eventually the leg started to shake like it was having a seizure. Just then a flash of silver caught my eye and I turned to look just in time to dodge the kitchen knife that flew towards my head from the kitchen. That quickly put a stop to my playing.
“Ok, so we’re on the right track,” I said, “It clearly doesn’t like that”
“Yeah,” Destiny replied, “But does it not like it because it’s hurting it and could potentially destroy it? Or because you suck at singing and you’re just really annoying to listen to?”
I turned to face her.
“You sound like a bag of cats in heat,” Destiny was not holding back her feelings on my singing voice.
I ignored the comment, “No, we’re on the right track, but something is missing.”
“If only we could get Melissa Ethridge here to play it for us.” Destiny said sarcastically.
“That’s it!” I shouted, “We need Melissa Ethridge’s guitar! I know there is one hanging on the wall of the Hard Rock Café downtown. Let’s go get it!”
“Your plan is to ask them if you can play Melissa Ethridge’s guitar?”
“We’re not going to ask”
“Your plan is to do a smash-and-grab at a restaurant owned by Native Americans? One of the most oppressed groups of people in the country.”
“Destiny,” I retorted, “The Seminole Tribe of Florida owns several billions of dollars’ worth of real estate and has more white people working for them than Facebook. They aren’t oppressed.”
“Alright, but I’m not going in. I’ll be the lookout with Hercules.”
“Fine.”
5 minutes later we were on the road heading towards the Hard Rock Café. Destiny sat shotgun, Hercules and the leg sat in the back. Hercules sat behind me and I could feel his stinking breath on my neck. It made my eyes water.
“Do you know who stole Hercule’s body from your porch?” I asked, trying to make conversation, “I mean, how will he ever get to rest in peace?”
“I have no idea who did it, but I’m sure Hercules does.” Destiny replied.
The conversation died down again and I turned my focus to the road, periodically checking my surroundings and my mirrors for any sign that Psycho Jimmy could be following us.
“What are you looking for?” Destiny asked, breaking the silence, “You seem, like, really paranoid about something?”
“Oh, I’m just paranoid about the haunted prosthetic leg in the backseat garroting me, you know?”
“Fair point.”
We arrived outside of the Hard Rock Café and quickly realized we had no plan that could feasibly work. After a few minutes of deliberation, we decided to go in and get a table. We were seated between two displays. One of Michael Jackson’s iconic gloves hung in a glass case above my head. Above Destiny’s head hung one of Prince’s electric guitars. Across the restaurant we could see Melissa Ethridge’s guitar encased in glass and hanging above the table of a couple who were clearly fighting with each other.
“There’s the guitar,” I said, nodding towards the display, “We just need a distraction.”
“Ok,” Destiny said, “I got this. Get ready”
She took two steps from our table, let out a dramatic sigh and fake-fainted on the floor of the dining room. No one seemed to notice.
“She’s fainted!” I shouted.
“Fucking TikTokers,” I heard a man mumble from a table near us.
After a few embarrassing moments, Destiny stood up, dusted herself off and sat back down across from me. “That didn’t work”
“No shit.”
“I have an idea for a distraction,” I told Destiny as I pulled out my cell phone, “I got the perfect guy for this.”
I called Psycho Jimmy. He picked up after 3 rings, but didn’t speak. I told him where I was and explained the situation to him and how we needed a distraction. He still didn’t speak. I told him if he could be there in 15 minutes that would be great, but if not, then he shouldn’t worry about it, but I had a feeling he was probably right around the corner.
The line went dead without Jimmy saying a single word.
“Give him 15 minutes,” I told Destiny.
5 minutes later Destiny and I were startled by a low growl that emanated from under our table. It was the snarling of an angry dog. It was Hercules.
Destiny quickly lowered her head under the table and began uttering commands to the phantom dog in a stern, authoritative voice. Patrons of the restaurant, one-by-one, began to take notice of the noise and began to stare.
“What is the issue?” I asked
“I don’t know!” Seethed Destiny.
I glanced around the room at all of the eyes watching us and began to apologize when I noticed Psycho Jimmy walking in through the front door of the restaurant. I began to stand up to greet him but Destiny quickly stole my attention.
“Oh my God!” She said, “This is it. I think Hercules sees whoever stole his body” She had a hand gripping her ghost dog’s invisible collar but was struggling to maintain control over the specter. Several waiters were on their way over to us when Destiny couldn’t hold on any longer.
The invisible phantasmal force that was Hercules exploded from under our table and through the dining room of the restaurant knocking over several chairs and tables in the process. Several patrons of the restaurant who had been tossed to the floor by Hercules or had seen some of the chairs tossed aside by the unseen force started to panic. Just like I had only a few days earlier, they’d suddenly been confronted with the possibility that there are things in this world they cannot explain.
A few people got out of their seats, a few women yelped, a particularly fat man stood on his chair like the ground was suddenly made of lava. The waiters were not paid enough for this.
Hercules continued on his war path through the dining room, pushing more chairs and tables aside and knocking over the hostess before finding his target – Psycho Jimmy.
Jimmy hit the ground with a grunt and began wrestling with his invisible foe. After a few intense seconds of rolling on the ground it appeared Hercules had him by the shirt sleeve and was dragging him back into the dining room, stopping every few steps to ragdoll Jimmy’s arm. Blood splashed out from Jimmy’s forearm as if he was cut by a knife.
This is when everyone really started to lose their minds. The restaurant descended into pandemonium. People who’d never met each other in their lives were clinging together and crying, some were fighting, one lady fainted and one woman too drunk to stand simply took in the scene and laughed.
A punch on my shoulder pulled my attention from the scene. It was Destiny.
“The guitar!” She shouted.
Right.
I ran across the restaurant to the glass case that housed Melissa Ethridge’s guitar, took the prosthetic leg from my backpack and smashed the glass with it sending a thousand razor sharp shards down into the meals of the angry couple who sat beneath it.
“You’re paying for our meals, buddy!” Said the man.
“Dude, look around!” I said back to him, extending an arm towards the insanity unfolding before us, “Just leave!”
I pulled the leg back and smashed the glass case again sending more shards of broken glass down onto the angry couple seated below.
“You NEVER stand up for yourself, Bryan!” The female half of the couple said to her mate, “Look at you, letting this crazy man with a prosthetic leg push you around and ruin our dinner! You’re a Beta!”
An arm grabbed me by the wrist, it was Bryan, “I’m not going to ask you again”
“Dude, get your priorities straight man” I said, pulling back the leg a third time.
A fist connected with my stomach and sent me to the ground. The leg clattered on the floor beside me.
I laid on the ground wheezing like a fat guy walking up his 5th flight of stairs when I heard Bryan’s lovely partner cry out to him:
“Hit him again, Bryan” shrieked the bimbo, “Kick him in the nuts!”
I gasped for breath and observed the chaos around me. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Men and women were running out of the restaurant screaming, Psycho Jimmy was being rag-dolled by an invisible dog, one of his arms had been reduced to hamburger. One woman was walking casually out of the dining area and sampling foods from various plates as she walked by each table.
My eyes came to rest on Destiny who sat solemnly in her chair watching her beloved pet maul a man. Tears fell silently down her cheeks. As strange and morbid as the situation was, it was for her a final goodbye to her companion over the last several years. As far as we knew, once Hercules was done thoroughly thrashing the man who had stolen his body, he’d presumably ascend to Heaven in some sort of Rapture. If a dog can go there, that is – The Bible is pretty fuzzy on the subject. Maybe he’d go to Hell, he didn’t seem like the friendliest dog.
My gaze shifted again to the frat bro who towered over me. He was lifting his cheap imitation snake skin cowboy boot to stomp my lights out when an ear-splitting screech filled the dining room.
People throughout the restaurant clasped their hands tight over their ears, a few dropped to their knees in pain. Covering my ears didn’t seem to do much, the sound was sharp enough to penetrate straight through the bone of my cranium and reverberate around in my skull cavity knocking loose neural connections as it bounced back and forth.
I felt concussed, dizzy.
The screech turned into a chorus of screams as the floor directly in front of Psycho Jimmy began to crack and separate. Psycho Jimmy crab walked backwards away from the fissure as it widened to about the size of a manhole cover; heat and orange light began to pour forth from it. Suddenly arms, several of them, burst from the newly formed cavity. The arms were a patchwork of raw red skin, pustules of pussy white sores and deep black areas where they had been too heavily charred to even be recognized as human flesh. Swollen and shiny, the arms began to flail in circles, heatwaves seemed to rise from their angry hands as they grasped at the air around them.
The restaurant lights flickered and my old friend, Fear, began bubbling up inside of me once again. A palpable sense of dread weighed heavy on all of us left in the dining room. I was filled with a dizzying mix of disbelief, panic, and a primal instinct to flee from the hell-spawn emerging from the depths of hell before us.
I got the impression that frat boy Bryan was the type of person who could never pass up an opportunity to impress a girl. Generally, to these guys, this usually meant drinking a beer while wakeboarding, getting into fights with total strangers after a night at the bar, or being incredibly mean to waitresses and various other positions in the service industry. At that moment, I guess he thought closing a door to hell itself would earn him a few late-night snapchats, which it probably should have if he had any idea what he was doing.
Bryan, as if this was just another bar fight, casually walked towards the thrashing mass of charred hands without making direct eye contact with it. When he got within striking distance he attempted to throw a massive haymaker punch, it was almost as if he thought he could catch the monstrosity off guard.
One of the grotesque hands easily grabbed his wrist mid-punch and Bryan could hardly get out a pathetic, “Huh?” before the hand pulled him into the fiery crevasse.
His girlfriend erupted into shrieks.
Less than half a second after Bryan’s demise, another hand lashed out from the group and caught something invisible.
The hand had grasped Hercules by one of his back ankles as he was trying to make his way around the hole and over to Destiny and, for a brief moment, Hercules’ true form came into view. Hairless, slimy, with human hands at the end of each of its limbs and a single horn protruding from its forehead, Hercules definitely wasn’t a dog.
What the hell was Destiny up to? I couldn’t believe I’d been in close proximity with that thing for the past few days. I felt sick.
Just like Bryan before him, Hercules was pulled into the pit of fire and the restaurant descended into a brief second of silence as it closed behind him.
I lifted myself up off the floor and took one more swing at the glass display case that protected the guitar of Melissa Ethridge. It finally shattered.
Dropped the leg on the table in front of me and reached into the shattered display case and pulled out the guitar. I took a step back, cleared my throat and began to strum the guitar when –
WHACK!
A very heavy and very gaudy purse smacked me upside the head, “You Bastard!” Shouted the life-size Barbie girl Bryan had brought out on a date tonight, “You motherfucker!” she shouted again in unison with a second swing of the purse.
“Ma’am, please stop” I pleaded with her as I ducked under another swing of her unusually heavy purse, “I’m trying to destroy a haunted prosthetic leg with the power of song to save my intern from being trapped in a painting for all of eternity!”
Not only did she not stop, but she grabbed the prosthetic leg from the table next to us and started inspecting it, no doubt to judge its effectiveness as a weapon against me.
I took the opportunity to start playing, “Come to my Window” while slowly backing away from the angry woman.
After a few seconds of my sweet music-making, I watched the human leather on the leg begin to ripple in the woman’s hands. Any sane person on the planet would have dropped the leg at that point, but she didn’t.
Instead, the woman tilted her head back and screamed. Her mouth opened wider and wider until it reached a point when she physically could not possibly continue to expand her gaping maw. Then her jaw shifted slightly and there was a sudden POP! and her mouth continued to stretch wider.
Then the hands appeared, two hands appeared from out of the woman’s mouth and gripped the sides of her lips as if something was about to pull itself out of her mouth – and that is exactly what happened.
“I would dial the numbers, just to listen to your breath // I would stand inside my hell and hold the hand of death”
I started singing faster now, desperate to make this work.
An old woman’s head emerged from the mouth. She was old, dripping red with blood and I could see by the look in her face that she wasn’t just angry – she despised me. I could feel the hate radiating off of her. It was as if I could taste it in the air. She didn’t just want me dead, she wanted me annihilated.
The neck breached the mouth and in short order – the shoulders. The scene was quickly changing from one reminiscent of childbirth to one of a snake molting its skin.
“Come to my window // Crawl inside // Wait by the light of the moon”
This wasn’t working. I glanced around the room. Looking for an ally. Destiny was gone. Hercules was gone. Psycho Jimmy was pulling himself to his feet. He was looking at me with his crazy eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was under some sort of trance, but he wasn’t blinking, and he looked pissed. Then again, he always looked pissed. He started moving towards me.
I continued to sing, but panic was starting to rise within me. The song wasn’t exactly going as I'd hoped, there was a demon being born in front of me and Psycho Jimmy didn’t exactly look like he wanted to hold hands and sing Kumbaya.
I took a step backwards and found my back against a wall. I was cornered.
“Giving away promises….la la…na na na nahhh”
I realized at this point I didn’t even know all the words to this song. I quickly switched over to the first song that popped in my head. It was by The Ramones and it wasn’t even close to a beautiful song, but Melissa Ethridge wasn’t cutting it.
“The KKK took my baby away // They took her away // Away from me!”
The demon continued to pull itself out of its skin suit and revealed more of its true form: Her upper body was a twisted, nightmarish version of an old woman. Shriveled, wrinkled, naked and dripping with blood. From the waist down, it was an enormous spider, its black, chitinous legs clicking against the wooden floor stepped on to the hardwood floor of the dining room. The spider's body was bloated and hairy, with glistening beady eyes that dotted the area where the woman’s abdomen met the spider’s face.
Psycho Jimmy was nearly within arm’s reach as well.
“Time for Plan B” I thought.
In a flash I swung the guitar over my head and smashed it across the face of the demon, sending shards of chipped wood flying across the room. I wanted to try and quickly throw a punch at Psycho Jimmy before he could react, but when I turned to face him, he was already on top of me.
Before I even knew what was happening Psycho Jimmy had grabbed both of my wrists, pressed me up against the wall and pinned my arms above my head. His grip was vice-like, even with one of his arms being torn to shreds. For the first time I saw him smile. His crusty lips parted to reveal a row of cracked, yellowed teeth.
I was about to try a kick, when Psycho Jimmy leaned in quickly and kissed me on the mouth.
What the hell was going on?????????/
Psycho Jimmy pulled back from the smooch, looked me dead in the eyes and said in a surprisingly gentle voice, “I didn’t believe in love at first sight until I laid eyes on you. I just didn’t know how to say it.”
I glanced over to the monster standing a few feet away and it seemed to be physically pained by what it was witnessing.
An act of True Love! This was it!
“Oh Jimmy, I feel the same way,” I whispered back to the crazy and most likely homeless man who had just kissed me. It was difficult to pull my eyes away from the literal demon next to us, but I had to make eye contact with Psycho Jimmy to make the moment work.
“Call me Psycho” he said, moving in for another kiss.
In that moment I fought the most difficult internal battle of my life – Do I kiss him back?
I took one last look at the demon – it was now writhing on the ground in pain, I could hear it whimpering.
“I cannot believe I have to do this,” was my only thought.
I closed my eyes and kissed PJ back. A large slimy tongue that tasted like cigarettes slipped into my mouth, I tried to hold back a gag – and then I heard shouting.
I opened my eyes just in time to see a police officer full-body tackle Psycho off of me. Two more officers followed close behind to kneel on Psycho’s back as they cuffed him. I scanned the room looking for evidence of the demon spider woman.
All I could find was the prosthetic leg. It was covered in hard plastic. The human leather that had been used to bind it was gone.
There was no other evidence of what happened. No demon, no manhole to hell. Just a totally destroyed restaurant dining room. Imagine if Lord of the Flies took place in an Applebee’s. That’s what it looked like.
A police officer escorted me out of the building asking me if I wanted to press charges on the man who assaulted me. I could hear Psycho shouting at me, “Wait for me! No jail can hold me! I’ll come find you!”
I would need to put my house up for rent immediately.
I got in my car and drove home; I called Destiny on the way but she didn’t answer. There was something about her that she was hiding from me, I decided it’d probably be best for me to never find out.
I pulled my car into the garage and was about to head inside, when a loud banging rattled my trunk door.
I pulled out my keys and popped the truck door and my car birthed Pedro onto my garage floor. He was sweaty and breathing heavily. A blank canvas lay in the trunk he just emerged from.
“Holy shit, Boss!” he said between breaths, “That was wild, bro! What are we going to do next?”
I paused for a moment to evaluate not only what had just happened in the last week, but my entire life, then I told him, “You’re fired, Pedro” and then, “I need to get a real job.”

From book called "A LAND UNKNOWN: Hell's Dominion" by B.W. Melvin (Bryan Melvin)
EXCERPT 1:
As He [Jesus] was speaking to me, these thoughts entered my mind: “It is appointed once for a man to die. When it is not that time, returning is an option decided. Children were raised; others were raised, as it was not their appointed hour, but mine. God is a God of the living and not the dead. When you arrive, say two words at that particular point of overwhelming and they are: My Name in your tongue and my Title.” At the end of these words, He reached into His robe and withdrew keys of many odd shapes and design, all bound by a connecting brass rung. Taking one key from the ring, he turned toward a door that appeared like a wall of mist that lay off to His left-hand side. As He inserted this key into the doorway that was arched like a gate, the mist parted, unrolling as a scroll, exposing a greenish-black narrow hole. In this hole there appeared a tunnel that led neither down, up, sideways, this way, or that. It was just there: a vortex.
EXCERPT 2:
The creature before me had a vile appearance. It stood about fourfeet-eight inches tall and had somewhat human features. Its skin color was dark yellowish-green with a moldy texture. Its skin appeared reptilian/saurian like. It had human raptor-like feet and a short chunky tail. Its teeth resembled those of a shark. Its breath was so foul that the very atmosphere surrounding it was like heat waves off of sun-drenched pavement on a hot summer day. Its steamy breath distorted its round human-like reptilian face and gave it an appearance of having many eyes; yet, it had two or maybe three at the most. With its lizard-like arms it tried to grab me in an evil embrace of welcome. All I could do was repeat a Name and a Title, which caused it to retreat a short distance away. I felt a presence behind me, but I was too afraid to turn my gaze from the creature to look. This small foul smelling ogre’s eyes kept darting at something in back of me that was emitting a blue purplish hue. The ghoul just grinned and muttered out loud. I stood facing this murmuring hissing creature. Gesturing with its hands and jabbering gibberish mixed with a few words of English, this ghastly being appeared to be attempting to speak to me like a foreigner trying to explain directions to a tourist with a limited vocabulary in which to converse. I was the tourist. It was difficult to understand. This beast seemed to be saying in a deep raspy guttural tone of broken English mixed with gibberish I did not understand and said, “Come follow me, (gerrr); I’ll show you half of the Kingdom. (hara-is) Come follow me (hisss) and have (errr) half of the Kingdom. (Alla ohst) Come (Sur-grrr) follow me through the veil; a road out, to, from, above, lies beyond (hesee). It’s been granted to thee to see, (grr-eko) follow me (ahka)” This disgusting foul smelling saurian brute walked with a shuffling manner towards the skyline, which was bathed orange-red by sunset, motioning for me to follow. Away from the house on the hill, away from the apparitions inside its walls, it walked. I followed continuously speaking a Name and Title as fast as I could without cease. Coming to what appeared to be the end of the horizon, the creature reached forth and parted the skyline as one would a curtain or veil. It walked through the torn hole bidding me to follow. I walked through this jagged frayed crack in the skyline and gazed upon a land unknown and best forgotten that was waiting on the other side, beckoning to be seen. Then it dawned on me where I was: the fiery pit, hell’s deep hole.
EXCERPT 3:
I followed the rank creature and immediately emerged on the other side of the horizon. A wide, dirty, flat, barren expanse of land gently sloped downward, betraying an endless circular spiral of misery. On the left side of the coiled grade were rows and rows of cubes with more cubes columned high, forming a wall of ten-by-ten foot partitions mirroring the events displayed inside. Each cube was stacked six high, marring each ascending and descending spiraling level’s wall like a dirty mirror. The wide expanse was a road. Strange entities were traveling on it. This wide dusty road ended at a circular void, highlighting the center of this hellish domain. The cubes appeared encompassed by thin smoke-tinted, gelatinlike walls. Each cube appeared to be about ten feet by ten feet square. You could see into these but not out of them. Within every chamber resided an individual person, trapped, unable to escape as I had.
Looking through the torn wall of the cube I had just stepped out of, the house and tree within were hauntingly calling my name to return. Perplexed, I stepped back for another glance at this cubicle. I was surprised that it was so small. Inside it had seemed so large! Turning, I saw the lizard-like being a few feet from me, reaching its ugly, greenish-yellow arms as if to drag me away to a desperate fate. Boxer style, I blocked the attempt. This fiend stepped back, grinning ear to ear. This beast began hissing and making strange murmurs that sounded as if it were trying to say something. It rocked back and forth while gesturing with its hands like it was in a hurry to go someplace. The creature’s mutterings became loud within my ears, as if one were turning up the volume on a buzzing amp. I became dizzy. My sight was briefly distorted. Then, in a flash, everything came back into sharp focus. Despite its hissing and gibberish, I began to strangely understand its speech without difficulty. While I could hear it speak in another language, I heard in plain English. This creature began speaking in broken rhymes in a rough, raspy manner, interrupted often with highpitched screeches. It spoke: “Dimensions of eternity hold no bounds. A small area can appear as big as a country or as small as an ant’s hole. Neither size nor depth matters here; only space fashioned by one’s mind. Within the walls one cannot escape what one dreads the most. I am (a) HOST here. What one sows is what one REAPS! What one sows is what one REAPS! What one sows is what one REAPS! Come, follow me.” The devilish host pointed across the wide, vacant expanse of road. Within its spongy, dry, brown dirt, small maggot-like creatures arose, squealed, and dipped back into little dark holes like insects. Hissing and spitting this lizardlike brute said, “Come and see, it’s been granted to thee.
Let’s first move on over to the ledge of this wide road.” All I could do was proceed continuously speaking a Name and Title. I wanted to wake up so badly. The fear was overwhelming. How could this be? Long ago, I argued that this place did not exist, but now, here I was. Seeing became believing. Following the foul beast, we both walked out onto the broad barren road, away from the cubes towards what appeared to be a cliff-like ledge, dropping into emptiness. We passed several lone, peculiar creatures roaming about. Passing these, we reached the road’s edge. Looking up and down, it seemed as if I were in the middle of a spiral staircase. Above was a winding, ascending spiral, and below a descending one as far as the eye could see. In the middle was a doughnut hole of space, like the inside of a pit. In awe, I watched bizarre beings moving through this space as if being lifted by some strange force, while others appeared to be climbing translucent, vaporous beams. Upon the roadway, hoards of peculiar entities moved in loose packs. One such pack came and encompassed us.
There, surrounding us on every side, were creatures both small and great in stature. Their features were ferocious, yet soft, then hideous, and then deceptively gentle. Some resembled animals, a few looked snake-like, many appeared almost human, and others were similar to serpents with round heads, sinewy arms, and short, lizard-like legs.
These were strange beings. Several looked almost human but had three faces on the orb of their head. Each face continuously revolved horizontally round and round. With every rotation, their facial features meshed with fluttering appearances into the next. Their eyes were dark and deceptive. They all varied in colors and hues. One particular creature, standing off in the distance, had skin with a purplish, glowing, light-blue tone. It had three faces like the others had, but it was stunningly beautiful. The faces slowly orbited around the orb of its purplish head. I could not tell if it was manlike or not due to a concealing garment it wore around its body. It was out there watching in sullen silence, motionless, just staring at me while emitting a purplish-blue aura. I saw several milling around us that appeared like “walking stick” insects with human-like faces about onethird of the way down their body. Other creatures reminded me of tree trunks and plants with human characteristics.
Many of the apparitions gathered around us appeared like gargoyles without wings. These varied in height from a few inches to around five feet tall. The colors of these creatures’ skin all varied in dark hues. Every one of the gargoyle entities wore odd-looking pants from the waste down. Some wore robes. All around me were a vast array of odd beings of diverse shapes, and on the road lived small creatures that resembled worms. As I watched these creatures, they at first looked harmlessly pleasant, but then, as I stared, I saw them transform into hideousness before my eyes.
The entities with the rotating faces seemed tallest. Lengthwise the snake and serpent-shaped ones appeared longest. The “walking stick” creatures varied in size and length. It was an incredible sight. A costume designer for a horror movie would be gravely perplexed to recreate this scene The noise from this place was incredible, the smell, sickening. The sights were mesmerizing. I stood, adapting to this place with all its creatures lurking about. I slowly began to realize that this hissing, human-lizard-like ghastly being was showing me around this domain as a guide would a tourist at a seaside resort, but this was not a resort. It looked at me and said, “Turn to the walls and look upon the stacks of boxes, each upon a row, and row upon row; stacked six high they go along the road and as far back as they can go. Inside are souls with many friends for each; yes, some friends leave while others like to stay with our guest. The levels of this spiral way spin thither and yon, descending lower where the blessings grow. Come and see; granted thee. Come follow me back to where the boxes grow.” In a limping fashion, this fiend dragged its ugly feet along, creating weak puffs of dust as we headed back toward the front ranks of cubes located across this wide expanse of ugly terrain. Reaching these, the creature came to the border where two cubes met and walked between them without effort into some sort of secret passageway.
In like manner, I followed. As I entered, the cube’s walls eerily parted like ripples from a stone splashing in water. A path came into view, revealing more cubes that lay behind the ones on the front row. It was a maze of narrow hallways that lay beyond, leading to cubicles further back. Cube after connecting cube were all pressed tightly against these narrow passageways. As I began to walk between these compartments, the bordering walls would expand just enough for my body to rub uneasily against it. While I moved, the walls would close in behind leaving me feeling eerily claustrophobic. The walls felt warm and much like a dolphin’s skin feels to the touch. Walking between the cubes, I noticed that at different locations the pathways would at one turn be pressed together, and at another turn they would become narrow hallways; then, at another turn, small wedge-shaped rooms appeared where the cubes did not press tightly against each other. More narrow passageways led to the farthest cells that lay against what appeared to be the back wall of a pit located a great distance from the roadway. Where we were walking, the floor was the same ugly brown dirt of the road, and the ceiling was made up of the cubes stacked above. The cubes were stacked six high. To go up or down to the next highest or lowest cubicle, all one had to do was desire it and the walls from the surrounding cells would morph, forming stairs that reached the destination one wanted.
The host walked ahead of me. We walked between the cubes for what seemed a long time. Inside every square cell resided a single person along with several creatures. These creatures gave the illusion of being people, animals, trees, and incredible things. Every person was imprisoned in his or her own private prison. All were in varying degrees of anguish, according to the deeds and actions done in life, to life, against life, even for life, both the bad and the good. Truly, this is a land best forgotten.
I could see into each cube in some strange form of double vision. It was like viewing the cubicles from the outside, at the same time seeing the inside of these abodes as one of its inhabitants saw it. For reasons unknown to me how or why, the people and creatures inside seemed to be a little less than two thirds of their normal size. Odd!
We walked between and passed cube after cube, up and down. Some were empty, but the vast majority had a person trapped inside. If I looked up, there was a bottom view of a person’s wretched cell and the events that were being enacted inside. Looking right to left I saw more people living out scenarios once lived in mortal life, but now with strange creatures as companions and props. Turning to the right, I could see people enjoying their stay, but then they would grow sullen because the scene never changed. Moving on, I glanced and saw a woman dressed in dated garments of a century gone by sitting, on a beach, mindlessly drawing circles in the sand. Then we passed an old man trying to catch a fish in a pond. It all looked so surreal. What had these people done to deserve such a boring fate? Was not there supposed to be fire and brimstone here? We traveled between more cubes. The sides of these eerily rubbed against the texture of my skin. Everywhere I gazed, I could not help but see people individually trapped inside. Each person lost in the illusions that their personal prison portrayed.
There, in a cube, a young man resided who seemed to be attending a costume ball. He appeared to be enjoying himself rather well. Then the party guests began to cruelly ridicule him. Passing this cell to the next, I saw another person being flogged on what appeared to be an old sailing ship sinking in an ocean; just prior to this he was enjoying being captain on that ship. We moved on. Suddenly the sides of a cube formed stairs. The ugly host pointed at the stairs and said, “Come, climb to the upper ones above.” Ascending upward, we then emerged somewhere on the top sixth row near the back wall. This level was different than the rest, reeking of deception and quiet gloom. The floor here took on an ashen-grayburning-ember hue and masked the views of the people trapped below. It was echoing quiet. All that could be heard were sounds of many shuffling feet. Before me lay a grand hallway that stretched into the distance before ending. This hall was bordered on both sides by cubicles. The ceiling arched upward cathedral fashion into the dirt roof of the pit. Soiled green linen-like drapes, adorning the hall, often eerily rubbed against me like unseen cobwebs concealed in shadows. Down the long, semi-narrow corridor, I could see several large foul beings quietly sitting upon a platform where a podium resided. From my vantage point this cathedral walkway appeared shaped like a sideways ‘T’ with the podium’s stage marking the apexes’ intersection.
At the central apex, the hall branched out of sight towards the back wall, while the other leg stretched straight onward before me. Inside these halls, were sporadic groups of shadowy creatures walking, huddled together, shoulderto-shoulder, and steadily plodding past us. Each cluster glumly passed, vacantly starring blindly ahead, never noticing we were there. Separate groups would enter various cubes to my left, which were pressed tightly against the back wall, and then vanished from view. These gaggles were arriving from the apex up ahead, turning either right or left, while the large, foul beings watched these processions mutely plod on from the podium area. Then, I spied that purplish-aqua-blue entity prowling in the dim gloom. As soon as I saw it, I thought I could hear words faintly whispering through the stark ominous silence of this great hallway saying, “The way is broad, enter here, enter there; it matters not where. Enter here or enter there; it matters not how. Follow me here, follow me there, it matters not where; just follow me here.” The center apex of the hall drew closer. The grisly host before me stopped, turned, grinned, and motioned for me to enter between cubes to our right, back toward the road. As we proceeded, its loud gnarly voice broke the hushed silence of this shadowy hall, saying, “Some enter here and are moved to where boxes grow. Others enter there through spinning tubes where boxes wait. It matters not how, as long as they keep entering this Grand Palace!” We began descending morphing stairs till reaching the bottom row. A labyrinth of right and left turns soon greeted our strides. Abruptly, we emerged from between two cubes back onto the spiraling roadway.
Walking between these was like a foretaste of things to come and prepared my senses to comprehend what lay ahead. Standing a few feet from me, this beastly host creature leered at me, as it stood stone-like on the wide, dusty road. Its foul-smelling breath was distorting its face. It seemed as if it had many eyes moving in a kaleidoscope of scathing eyeballs. Leering. Staring. Scathing. Glaring.
EXCERPT 4:
Walking along on the fifth story of cubes was a new nightmare. Seeing those termed as ‘nice’ confined here had shaken me. However, with each passing scene the ‘nice’ were in reality quite different than first perceived. Many diverse desires corrupted their lives. Some desires seemed noble and good. Other desires were just plain bad. No matter, they all corrupted. That uniquely arrogant, condescending, asserting-your-rights-nomatter- the-cost attitude brought many here. This desire unknowingly deceived and defiled scores of victims. Many used this as an excuse to slay those they viewed as weak, according to their own twisted opinions. When encountering any person perceived as a potential threat, or not meeting their preconceived standards, they sought to slay careers, marriages, hopes, and dreams of anyone they saw as not fit.
This attitude was carried over at home, at play, and everywhere they went. If you failed to live up to their predetermined standards, you were marked as prey to be taught a lesson, or targeted for abuse. It comes in many forms, from gossiping slander to creating scapegoats; all in order to rule others’ lives like a king or queen, and then hope to be perceived by others as something great for their own ego’s reward. Cube after cube were passed by. There, inside a cubicle, a man from 1890 who gave to the poor only to be seen by others, so he could be exalted as being something great. He went about claiming how vast his giving was, just to earn accolades from the masses. He was a true hypocrite claiming other wealthy persons should pay their fair share, because he paid a mere pittance from his immense net worth.
He neglected those he employed, paid them low wages, and only through his corporation’s profits did he give to the poor. Now he was encapsulated in a cube as a beggar begging for bread while a crowd of people passed him by, spitting on him as they went. Across form this cell was another man from days gone by, who was wedged inside a barrel that was jammed inside a narrow cave. This man was stingy with the things given during life. He was being deprived of the things he once horded. Creatures chained to the floor of his habitat would place certain items before his face that would aid his escape. He could not reach these because his arms were immobile, stuck tight by his sides, unable to move.
Then we passed a woman, washing clothes upon a rock in a muddy stream wearing the garments of Africa. Despite being pious and performing nice deeds, she was caught up in pride and greed. She envied her neighbor’s goods, complained a lot, and spoke badly about a young woman she did not really know because she thought she looked more beautiful than her. She perceived her as weak and in need of a lesson that only she could teach. How dare this one try to take her place in the community! She would put a stop to that, and nip it in the bud! She never really knew this other woman, but that did not matter. She perceived her a threat to her status and continually slandered the woman’s excellent character. The other woman turned the other cheek after each libelous attack. This was viewed as weakness. She was like a cat toying with a wounded mouse. She told herself that she was just trying to teach that woman a lesson, but in truth it was only a grudge justified to slay: to remove one more beautiful than she.
Down by the stream stood a creature imitating the beautiful woman that she reviled without cause, telling her the things she once reasoned true but now found a lie. She became the mouse. The creature, like a cat, began to play. We moved on, leaving this scene. What one sows is what one reaps. People inhabiting this fifth row of cubes were all mixed together. This row did not class people together with common anguishes or punishments. In fact, no level really did. However, the sixth row reeked of something different waiting above. You could not help but feel an ominous sensation radiating down onto you. The sixth row was reserved for certain types of people, and we were on our way there.
Walking behind the ambling lizard-like being, I came to another square cell on the fifth row high, where resided a cruel woman who had died in the 1950’s, full of malice, being beaten with a hairbrush as she used to do to her children. She used to speak vilely to her children, and then used a hairbrush to bring home some arbitrary, meaningless point. She also tormented her husband in many diverse ways. What she once did to others was now happening to her. It was easy to clearly see why these cruel people were here. Feeling waves of apprehension, the others along these passageways still troubled me because they appeared nicer than the cruel people were, and yet they were here. One minute, I felt I understood why they all were here in this place, and in another, I was not so sure. It was like something following me was causing uncertainty. As I felt this, I tried to remember the montage of words spoken to me from above hoping they would provide aid again. The host creature interrupted my attempt for relief by yelling furiously, “Come on – come on, hurry up! Curse God, curse me – how can this be? How can a Most High leave all the nice people in boxes? Crying? Hurting? Come on Curse God – curse me. How can a Most High let this be?”
This foul beast motioned to move on. I followed this creature along the maze of narrow halls between cubes. It seemed like we were heading toward the far back wall. The further we went back, the passageways became wider and the triangular rooms more numerous. We came to another open area with a limited view of the ominous sixth row high. Sitting along the edges of what would be the roofs of the cubes located on the fifth row sat several creepy, shadowy creatures of varied sizes. Many looked like gargoyles without wings. Others looked harmless, beautifully sublime. All emanated devious vibes. As the creatures saw me passing below them, they began to discourse amongst themselves. “How can the Most High leave people bound in famine?” “Yeah, and tied to earthly plights beyond compare?” “Don’t forget leaving these to war.” “Yeah, floods that perish, storms that steal, how can a most high leave these be?” “Oh, that must be mercy? HA! HA!” “Aye, and then brought here to be with us?” “Fair? Just? Ha! Merciful? HA!” “You, walking there, are foolhardy to think that mercy the Most High has.” “Come on, come on, and hurry up down there! Curse you, curse me you little foul fleet-footed twit!” “Ha! Ha! Ha! You foolish, foul, fleet-footed fool! God creates calamities and we reap the rewards! Fair, Ha!! Mercy! Don’t make me laugh.” Their mocking was intense. Fear began to return with each battering I received from their words. All I could do was what I had been doing, speaking two words fast, like the staccato from a machine gun, “Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!” and walk the gauntlet of hate-filled creatures following the host into the unknown. I wanted to answer them but I dared not stop speaking those two words. I wanted to curse them back, yell, to tell them to go away, but I could not. Their cruel taunting words kept hammering away at me. It was as though they could perceive my thoughts but not my mind and I thought back hard: “How could these beings say such matters? There were no children here, nor any disabled by fault of reason. These creatures’ many devices cause wars. As for the earth, it lives and breathes as designed. To be caught in one of its spasms seems more by chance than folly. One must be ready for eternity’s call at any moment, is what I see. “Yes, God knows all. He gave us intelligence to reason. Could we learn or be granted insight into where a calamity may next befall either by technology, divine insight, or a combination of both? Is this what was meant by man subduing the earth? “We build the buildings that collapse, not God, and yet He receives all the blame. Fair? No! And then, how dare they call me a foul, fleetfooted fool?”
I wanted to yell this out loud and curse all these creatures, but I felt oddly restrained to keep my mouth to myself and to continue walking, following that host creature shuffling along in front of me. I could hear many deep, raspy voices echoing in the halls. “You Fool! You bleak-eyed twit! How dare you think?” “Ha! Ha! Ha!” “No answers and never find any.” “Ha! Ha! Ha!” I was becoming incensed with rage at these beings because of the doubt they sow. Then the peaceful and powerful thoughts from above returned, challenging the taunts, and strengthening my wavering mind with quiet resolve with these words: “True, the earth is designed to move and breathe according to need. When a spasm arises, redemption is in the design. God chose us to choose Him, but will we? “When that tower fell so long ago, at Siloam, the question was not in who made it fall, or why it fell, or if those afflicted were more guilty than the rest, but rather raised the question of what type of redemption really redeems? “Yes, many read into events, accidents, diseases, earth calamities, and assign blame and cause. That is easy to do. However, does this type of redemption truly redeem? “Hmmm, when calamity strikes, where would you be found? Aiding the helpless? Comforting the afflicted? Doing nothing? Join in the looting? Host an argument to find blame? What truly redeems? “Yes, God chose us to choose Him, but will we? God squeezes and fashions light by generating darkness; from this, God refines harmony’s balance by initiating calamity. When calamity arises, redemption is in the design. Aiding fingers need many hands.” A brief silence filled the cavernous halls at the cessation of these words. The authoritative thoughts caused more muffled mocking to slowly intensify again. Soon, contemptuous scoffing resonated loudly in the gloomy passageways, each voice agonizing over the subject amongst themselves.
Then, the reptilian host suddenly stopped, turned and growled, “Enough, enough, hear no more. Up we go, follow me, the sixth row high boxes wait; come, follow me, half the kingdom offered thee. Come, follow me – up we go.” I did not want to go. The sixth row high from the road reeked of doom. The walls of a nearby cell morphed into narrow stairs. The creature went up. I traversed the ascent to the sixth row with great trepidation. Upon reaching this height the venue changed. The residences on this level still retained the ten-by-ten feet dimension, but these were set differently than the other rows previously seen. The walkway between these were wider and the triangle-shaped chambers larger. The ceiling was the same ugly dirt as the spiral road and roofs of the fifth-row cubicles were the floors here. The flooring was no longer a transparent smoky tan color as seen before, below, but now had an ashen-gray, burning-ember tinge. The cubes bordering the road area spread back in a fan shape just like on the other rows, but this extension ended a great distance from where the wide road was located. You could tell that the cubes packed tight, and fan like, led toward the spiral road. The other cubes placed in ranks governed the direction to the pit’s far wall. This was the only area where I had some sense of direction. Also on this level were many individual cubes set apart from the rest. The short saurian ogre was cursing everything. Its foul breath reeked stale and hot in the viscose air. However, this was not air, as we know it, nor was the act of breathing the same as how we humans breathe. In fact, breathing was more like exhaling in a manner that only served to support speech as long as you spoke, and nothing else.
This diabolical escort began speaking: “Each step we take is a take indeed on we go and on we go. Half the kingdom offered thee.” Looking behind me, the creature stopped speaking and stood stone still, pointing. I quickly turned. There in the near distance was that purplish entity, its faces rotating round and round, each full of seductive beauty and profound malice. I heard it speak. “Will thou follow me?” I said nothing in reply except the words “Jesus Christ,” non-stop. “A Most High Author of all? How can He be truly just and perfect and allow the things you have seen?” It was hypnotic, the words it spoke: “An offer given – will thou follow me? Curse God, come, follow me.” My head felt dizzy. Doubts flooded my mind about God and all His mercy and perfect justice. The reptilian host creature stood grinning from ear to ear. I continued to mutter a name and a title louder: “Jesus Christ, JESUS CHRIST!” At the loud mention of this Name and Title that strange purplish being beguilingly vanished between the cubes as though seeking pity for having received a great wound to its smugness.
Immediately, as though nothing had happened, the rank host began hobbling in the direction where the spiral road lay below. The walkways between the cubes became narrow again. I could feel the purplish creature’s presence receding in the murkiness, yet it remained lurking in the distance for another chance to devour. About this time I had the paradoxical sense that we were approaching the bottom of a bottomless pit, but in reality we were somewhere on the sixth row, six cubes high, located somewhere along a spiral road in a land best forgotten but not left unseen. The lizard guide continued onward, pointing to this cube and that. I cannot adequately express the misery I saw inside these square cells. Some people were mutilated; others sat in darkness or flames. In one, I saw a man, a warrior of Mongolia from long ago, experiencing terrible thirst while tied to the ground with what appeared to be insects crawling on his personage, each bug taunting him all the while: “You put me here, now a tasty taste of your own fun!”
I turned and looked into the cubicle opposite his, and there was another man experiencing a battery of unkind words that continually assailed his mind. He was an abuser during his mortal sojourn on earth. He beat his family quite often with words and at times with fists. He derived great pleasure from this, as it made him feel good and in control. He told his sons and daughters, “You are scum; you’ll never amount to nothing! Do as I say boy (with an upraised hand). Woman – what did you do with my pants! How dare you – you witch.” These words were now coming back to haunt him. He sat on a brown sofa in a room with algae green curtains that were opened, exposing a sliding glass door. He sat with the sun to his back, drinking what appeared to be a glass of beer, but in fact it was nothing at all except a prop. There he was, while invisible voices assailed his mind. He remained seated with an all-consuming anger in his eyes, listening to the words he once spoke over and over again, but now each word was returning to him. During my stay in this place, I always heard the cubes click at certain times. Each timed tick would be followed by a click, and the cubes would move and ever so slowly began descending to new levels located somewhere below.
As the cubes moved, torments increased, and the scenes inside the cells changed for those trapped inside. On the sixth row high, when the cubes moved we also moved, just as we did on the proceeding levels below. Here on this row, it felt as though I was approaching the bottom of a bottomless pit, yet I was still six cubes high, off the road that lay somewhere out of sight. I witnessed a nightmare of events as we traveled along these passageways. Every person that I saw inside his or her cube was living in his or her own private night terror. Each person’s worst nightmare had become a reality. The most violent and cruel received various forms of mutilations, while others were experiencing mental torments which they had personally devised for others in their time on earth. As the cubes moved, torments increased by degrees. There was such despair, hopelessness, and extreme loneliness here. The weeping was like one long, droning sound. Isolation was the common factor for all, and separation from God was very pronounced. I noticed that so many of these people had simply accepted their fate, while others cursed God, cursed the creatures that appeared to them as companions, and cursed themselves. I saw men and women trapped in cubes that reeked of despairing gloom and deep darkness. Some appeared to be in houses that were decorated like the ones they once lived in. Still there were others bound, unable to move, while buglike creatures crawled in and out of their mouths. The people were shouting, “No! This can’t be happening! I want to wake up!”
Another cube passed, and inside were several creatures strapping a man clad in ancient Roman garb to a cross and driving short spikes into his wrists and near the ankles. He was once a soldier, a leader of men of battles fought long ago. He had ordered many to be crucified along a road. Here he was now, as he had once done; now it was done to him over and over again, feeling all the pain fresh and new each time. Over there I saw a woman who had claimed to be a real witch in the 1890’s. She was trapped inside a coffin. She would scratch the inside trying to get out, and still could see herself on the outside looking in while shadowy figures stood outside mocking her. It had been her worst nightmare during her earthly life. She had dreamed this often, but now it was real. She was cruel toward those who tried to love her, and here it was being repaid in kind. Her cube clicked and moved, and we moved along with it. The scene changed. The coffin opened. She sat straight up, screaming hateinspired terror at everything that moved. Every lost soul in this place was experiencing degrees of severe isolation, loneliness, gloom, boredom, and despair. It was as if these people became totally resigned to his or her fate. It was though the anguishes seen here were being given back in full measure, to each according to every unkind word spoken, every slanderous lie told, all filthy thoughts relished, all covetousness practiced, every hidden dirty passion that had been enjoyed; every foul deed’s motives were completely exposed, totally without excuse.
There seemed to be a whispering ambiance in the air that sounded like a gentle wind rustling leaves in the twilight of a summer evening, and was speaking something like this to all the inhabitants: “You, in here, chose to walk away from the only way, even though many times you were called to restrain and return; you refused. Look at what you made of your life, and what you did. How can you remain and continue to defile the holy way provided? “One with an intellect and reason has responsibilities, and to force you to change now is impossible. Why? Could it be because your intellect and reason would continually pervert the change, renewing detestation toward God if consequences do not last? “Just because you were given the gift of a living mind granted latitude to reason with intelligence, you, here, find fault with judgment? What was given as a gift, life, cannot be taken back once sealed by eternity’s ways. If so, what was done before would remain and a gift would no longer be a gift as originally consigned. “How can the Most High change your reason here, from this, if you failed to heed then? To change your intellect and reason now would make you like a lowly beast, or a slave, who serves out of fear and hates those above due to perceived resentments. How do you think that one before was found to have iniquity in his heart, and what this means?
“If you were allowed to be free from these torments, after serving some time here, in a thousand years you would return to your ways knowing you would just be punished, serve a little time, and be free again. No justice in that. “You, here and there, say blast me off into an eternal nothingness! To do so would be against the nature provided by the Most High. He cannot curse His own being that cannot help but breathe life. “There are many who desire this type of destruction, but life cannot beget death of the kind that breeds eternal nothingness. However, it is not impossible to do this, but again that would be against the nature of all things consigned. What does it matter when the matter was decided to be a matter of fact? “You, in here, perverted life’s free gifts, and changed it all just to suit personal cravings and desire. You kept the wrong life, live. You neglected family, fostered envy, slew people with your words, sought to be king of the hill, thought you knew what was best, brought others low deemed as unfit. You, in here, made life ugly where you were assigned by all manner of means to rationalize your selfish gratifications.
“You, there, rejected the chance to escape this fate and gleefully accepted the free ride that falsely promised to turn stones to bread, turn every perceived want and desire into some form of power that was perceived as just a “benefit”, and promised that you were exempt from all the calamities you created during your mortal sojourn. “You challenge by saying that if God truly was allpowerful and merciful, He could change those down here with the wave of His hand. How can one really change your mind now if you would not freely listen then? You would learn to view this as a spanking, just temporary punishment, to make you behave for a while, but then you would return to your own vomiting reason every few thousand years. Corruption would only beget more corruption unless restrained, confined, here.”
This quiet ambiance’s gentle rustlings stirred many inside their cubes to curse God, themselves, the creatures; but it also caused them to understand and accept their fate, while awaiting a future judgment’s final verdict’s decree, and then…?