Context; My Dad is a secular humanist and frequently watches new atheist/pop atheist YouTubers with my Mom. Both of them were like really mad at me when I was baptized at the request of my aunt. I grew to love Catholicism and just finished the Summa Theologia. I started carving wood statues of Jesus and after I finish my senior year of high school; my plans is to a cybersecurity degree.
My Dad has been on a gaslighting crusade to get me out of Catholicism by various means. Just recently he invited me to his lab where he works and had me do a photo shoot with his friends. We all had to wear this cringy shirt with an Atom and the words “Science Non Fiction > Religious Fiction”. I was so furious after this; can you please pray for me and tell me what to do?

1330 Terran Front Fleet Time
On the Turinika homeworld, the first signs of unrest began to manifest like a wave, The broadcast of the most esteemed Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata, Taratanti of the roost Kazatalak, openly performing the act of Kavsa had been met with shock. The last Taratanti who had voluntarily performed Kavsa had done so in protest of the treatment of the Kulorn caste, nearly two thousand years prior. It was an ancient rite, one that signified rejection of the greatest shame. Even more shocking than the act itself was the evidence that had followed it. Visuals of species, brought into the Conclave, not as migrant workers as had been believed, but as slaves, was met with an almost immediate attempt at censorship. This attempt failed spectacularly, mostly due to those who had been tasked to censor the information not only refusing to follow the command, but openly declaring that they had been ordered to do so. A situation that was already, as the humans would say, out of hand, spiraled completely out of control. Within only twenty minutes of the ending of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s broadcast entire cities entered a state of absolute anarchy. Two planetary capitals were stormed and taken by the furious civilian population, demanding the location of those who had been enslaved. The Turinika Armada, which even then was in the middle of a training session meant to prepare the fleet to withstand the Terran Front’s assault, began to cease operations. Within the hour, the entire armada would be recalled to the turnika homeworld. Those who did not take to the streets simply stopped whatever work they were doing and went to their homes to be around their brood. Images of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata with his stripped wings spread wide in front of the human fleet commander were on every news fed of the Conclave, as was the sound of his thunderous voice, and the wails of despair from a turinika female that couldn’t be seen. Close ups of the human fleet commander’s face were shown, with analysts remarking on the shock, horror, and sympathy. Since the outbreak of the Seventh Orion War, the female human known as Simmons had been reported to have made several threats towards the turinika, she had quickly become seen as a warmonger, ready to take revenge against the turinika for refusing to go to war and violate their principles of pacifism. Now the images of her lunging forward to stop the violation of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s plumage, the agonized expression of her face, and the true reason for her threats against the turinika were rapidly reversing her image. On far flung deep core mining stations and agricultural stations, on deep space stations dedicated to material processing, and in other areas hidden from the sight of the normal turinikan population, overseers and taskmasters felt their hearts run cold at the knowledge that very soon, their part to play in the willful enslavement of another species would be known to the wider Conclave. As the data package transmitted alongside the broadcast were fully decompressed and the scale of the Conclave’s government’s involvement was revealed, the entirety of the Conclave itself was teetering on the verge of absolute pandemonium. The image of a member of the kolra species, from the look of it barely a hatchling, quickly was becoming the face of the entire incident. The picture was absolutely damning, and the sight of the image had sent any who saw it instantly into contorting and painful displays of shame. The young kolra was sprawled on it’s stomach, looking to the one taking it’s picture with eyes that had no life in them. It’s shell covered it’s back, and despite the age of the kolra it was already dulled and scuffed. The foot pressing down on the shell was unmistakably familiar to those who saw it, the clawed feet of a turinika. Within the hour, billions of winged figures stood in streets, the normally soft spoken and passive species demanding action, demanding justice, on the hundred worlds of the Turinika Conclave. The bulk of the Taratanti caste, most of whom had been left in the dark of the truth of the situation, quickly went public with their own declaration of outrage, and the eyes of the entire species turned inwards to the mountainous homeworld of their species.
Hakuri Watanabe looked down at his helmet before putting it on his bed, the stylized SEVEN seeming to stare at him. He sat down in his chair and picked up a small cloth from his buffing kit. No one knocked on his door, in fact, mostly he and the rest of his squad were left alone before a major operation. They were just given their time, time to mentally prepare. Some of his squad would go over their mission briefing, some, like him, would spend their time doing something to relax themselves. Hakuri always found that taking care of his suit calmed him considerably. Granted he could simply turn it over to the squads armorers to be tended to and they would do as good of a job as he could, but he preferred it to be done by his own hand. The symbol of a triangle was on his form fitting shirt, the symbol of his special operations command unit. He was known as a Myrmidon, but the official title of his unit was Section Three. He knew this, his superiors knew this, and as far as Hakuri knew, most of the Terran Front was aware of his unit’s existence, but past that, they knew very little about what he actually did. As far as his mother knew, Hakuri was a pencil pusher onboard the TFS Berlin, the troop mothership that all of his letters were sent from. He thought about writing her, but then again, he only liked to do that when he returned from a mission, not when he was expecting to go to one. If he tried to write her when he was waiting, he would just get anxious, and homesick. That wouldn’t do when he was dropping into a combat zone. That wouldn’t do at all. Hakuri instead started to buff his helmet, waiting for the word to come down which meant they were prepared to jump. A glance at the clock made him pause in his circular rotations. The clock said 1330. Operation Naked Sun was about to begin.
Tika was on his side, Kzia standing at the end of the medical bed that had been adjusted for his turinikan physiology. He felt cold in more ways than one. For his people, clothing was more of a decoration than a necessity, but without his protective plumage he felt the cold stabbing him through to his hollow bones. His diplomatic access was already gone, his privilege access revoked. He heard the broadcast for a preparation to jump, but he wasn’t truly listening. There was no question in his mind he had made the right decision. There was no question at all. One of the humans, a nurse, came to his side and gently laid a heavy blanket over him. The human’s hand lingered on his trembling body for a few moments before it was removed, and Tika glanced in their direction. The female was one of the ones who had responded first to the call for medical service for him, had heard what had happened and why. Tika had gotten very used to being glared at on this ship. He was hated, and he knew it. He knew he had deserved it. He was a party to the vral’s enslavement of the humans, the chua, and far too many others. When he had come to Thermopylae station, he had not even given that fact a single thought. He was born into power, being of the Taratanti. He belonged to the most powerful species and government in the entire quadrant of the galaxy. His people, while mighty, did not seek to use it. To him, they had simply been above it all. When the vral had approached him with the offer to sell captured species at first TIka had wanted to reject it out of hand, but a few had told him to go through with the sale. Such was the nature of this galaxy, or so he had believed. The weak were at the whims of the strong, and one’s place in the galaxy was determined only by the power they could wield. The turinika were not nearly the first to have taken a species and used it for slave labor, and while Tika did not approve of the deal, he had not fought it either. As he looked back to the wall, he remembered what the humans had taught him these last days. When he had arrived in Thermopylae he had assumed he would find the chua species to have been at the very least regulated to a subservient role, if not outright enslaved. Finding them sharing power was a curiosity. He had expected to be treated with all the honor and dignity that his station demanded, that the power of his government demanded. Fleet Marshal Simmons had disabused him of that, and had left him humiliated and shamed. As he had laid in the dark as Simmons had declared the Seventh Orion War, covered in his own filth, feeling as if at any moment he was going to be killed he knew true fear and horrific uncertainty for the first time in his life. He had never faced these emotions, these sensations before. He had always been in power. He had stood with the full might of the Turinika Conclave behind him. He had never known anything other than the superior position. Now, as he lay in the hospital bed, staring at the wall, he was ashamed of how arrogant, how blind, and how short sighted he had been. After he had risen from his own filth, he had desperately tried to convince his leadership of the strength of the Terran Front, how it matched or eclipsed their own. The Conclave was not the unchallenged power in the quadrant anymore. The terrans, the human and chua, had somehow defied fate. They had not fallen to the vral after ninety years of near constant conflict, and now if Tika was right they had come out of it nightmarishly stronger than before. Tika had actually begged to be heard by his superiors, and he had never come close to that once in his life. The chua homeworld however, had fully broken him. If he had not been on the Antares, had not been humbled beforehand, he knew that he would have just clapped his hands together and said that it was delightful. As the transmission from the chua homeworld had come in, and the rescue effort had begun, he could only wallow in his own shame. He had profited directly from the chua’s suffering, the human’s suffering. Again he had tried, and failed, to convince his people, and again he had failed. Being on the Antares, for him, was torture. The lights were too dim, every human and chua looked at him with nothing more than loathing and contempt, his entire worldview had been shattered from the way he viewed the galaxy to his own place in it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the shadow of Simmons standing over him, her voice cold with a lethal rage, hearing her voice echo in his mind, seeing the glint from flashes of light shining in her eyes. ‘We Know.’ echoed in his mind in his sleep, the voice of the terrifying Fleet Marshal transforming into the sound of a vengeful god demanding compliance and promising retribution. Then he had watched the humans and chua, who he knew were preparing to go to war with his people, celebrating the return of the shesvie. Once more he had expected them to be integrated into the Terran Front, but as soon as he learned Simmons offer to them, and what it had entailed, he had been called to his room to answer the latest message from his people. Once again, his people had doubled down, the knowledge of the enslavement of the humans had been suppressed, and once more Tika found himself, and his people, standing against a Terran Front that had every justification to declare war, to right the wrongs that had been done to them. All the while, he knew something else. He knew that, after everything he had seen, that his people would lose. The turinika had not been to war for nearly two thousand years. His people were not ready for what the Terran Front could do, and after seeing what they had done to the vral so far, he knew his people were not ready for what the Terran Front would do. He was afraid of the dark. Tika was absolutely terrified of it now, because now he knew the monsters were real. Simmons had shown him that, but the humans, the chua, they were not the monsters. He was. He had refused to be one any more. He had announced his intentions to his staff, who had squalled in rejection, all but three. Kzia was the first to step to his side, Kikumot and Tziki had stepped forward as well. Never, in his most nightmarish dreams, did he ever think that he would stand in front of Simmons and voluntarily have his plumage stripped from him, performing the act of Kasva. He never thought that his staff would have ever compiled and transmitted the data package they had sent. He had never thought that he would betray his people, if only to save them. Simmons had changed that, the humans had changed that. He knew the terror of the dark, he knew fear for his people’s safety, he understood the horror of war, and for the first time in his long life he could truly look back at every interaction he had had, with every species, that had asked for help in their struggle for survival against the vral and truly understand their fear and desperation. Now he lay, his plumage stripped from him, his station revoked, his status removed, surrounded by a people who despised him. He wouldn’t have it any other way now. He knew that they would listen now, if not to him, then to the civilian masses of the Conclave that would not stand for what they had done. He prayed to the Great Mother often now, shivering in the dim light, hoping that it would be enough. He had been wrong, and in his error he had sullied his own people. He had made them complicit. Even now, he did not know how they would ever be forgiven, because right now he wasn’t quite sure he could ever forgive himself. As he heard the broadcast calling out on the ship, announcing one minute to jump, he felt a hand on his side, and looked up to the human nurse. She was smiling at him. Not a smile born of malice, or anger, but a genuine smile. She patted his side lightly, then turned to walk out of the room. For not even the twentieth time since he had come onboard Thermopylae, he was mystified by these people.
The bridge of the Dhampir was thrumming with music and the vibrations of the reactor and Conrad leaned forward in his chair mount, his eyes almost feral as he looked at the empty space that was the mandeville point. He was positively chomping at the bit. Batz was positively roaring the lyrics to the song that was blaring over the ships speakers. Rev and Dev sat side by side in their mounts, throwing their hands up in time with the pounding bass beat of the sound. Towns was the only one besides Conrad that was quiet, both of them looking towards the mandeville point with complete impatience. Conrad felt like jumping from his skin. Fidget, well, fidgetted, holding his hands over his headset and listening as if he were trying to hear secret messages in the music. They were ready, their pulses were racing. The crew of the Dhampir was positively vibrating. Conrad looked to the shipboard clock, seeing 1330 displayed, and his head snapped to Fidget, waiting for the word. They were going to run, they were going to chase, they were going to hunt.
Vicky sat back, looking towards Jess and Kukat as they slept. Jess was in her chair, Kukat in her medical bed. Vicky glanced back at the block print on the paper and read it for the fifth time. She read the individual lines, one at a time, cursing their existence. After reading through the message printed she let her hand hang again. Kukat would be released from medical tomorrow, and both her and Jess still thought they would be boarding the Thumper to join the Vellacore once more. Jess had talked non-stop about her quarters on the Vellacore the past few days, how she just wanted to be back in her room. Kukat was equally excited. Only Vicky didn’t share their excitement. They didn’t know yet. They didn’t know about their battlefield promotions, they didn’t know about their reassignments, they didn’t know the days of them working together were functionally over. Vicky looked down at her hand holding the paper again, and felt like crumpling it. She had lost her crew. She had lost them not due to negligence, or time, she had lost them to fame. Kukat was to be promoted to ensign, and was to be the sensor officer on the destroyer Hadrian, Jess was getting the same promotion, her station on the cruiser Victorious. Vicky? She was the sparkling new commanding officer of a destroyer that was arriving at Thermopylae in two days, the Quarrel. She never wanted this. She had turned down promotion after promotion that would take her from the cockpit of the Thumper, away from Kukat, away from Jess. She wanted to serve in this war in her own way, as a pilot, with the two who had made her life so enjoyable. Now though, they were to be split up, and there was nothing she could do about it. These promotions hadn’t come from simple seniority, they had come from High Command, as had the orders. Tomorrow, when Kukat was released, they would be ushered into the hanger bay of the Barrowmore. They would all three be awarded the Star of Terra, then they would be reassigned. Tonight was the last night they would all be together. Vicky wanted to wake them up, she wanted to tell them, to give them a chance to process it. As she looked to Kukat and Jess she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She held up the letter again, reading the first few lines, then she felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. She looked away, her heart panging with sadness, and stared at the wall. The clock read 1330.
Corporal Brandy was sitting on the small rack, with Janet Shippen sitting between his legs using his thighs as armrests. They were both dressed for the first time in the last few hours, both of them staring at the clock. This close to the reactors they could feel them beginning to spool up for the trip through hyperspace. When the news of the operation had come down they had elected to spend as much time together as possible, which Brandy had enjoyed to no end, and he had made sure Janet had as well. Brandy had even taken some time to reach out to his sister Victoria, a rarity for them both, as since they were children they were often barely able to speak to each other simply due to schedules. He had even told her about Janet, and although he hadn’t gotten a response from his sister yet he already knew what she would say. Janet nestled back against him, but he could feel her body was stiff. Neither of them knew what the next few months were going to hold. Their time together might be constricted, in fact, this might be the last few moments they were together for quite awhile. Brandy’s Ghouls were specialists, ship boarders. Chances are he was going to be extremely busy, as was she. He didn’t quite know how he felt about Janet, but he did know that beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t want to be away from her. Judging from how she was acting, she felt the same as him, conflicted about her relationship with him, but not wanting to be apart. He knew what he needed to tell her, that he had to get up, that he had to leave. The Ghouls were going to be assembled at 1345, ready to board. Her unit was going to be prepared at the same time, to begin taking on salvage. Her hands were like clamps on his legs, and from how tense she was, he wasn’t going to get up until she was good and ready. The clock on the wall switched to 1330. He stared at the clock, feeling like the clock was mocking him, when suddenly Janet leaned up and turned. Her hands took hold of his shoulders and she threw her body against his, her lips finding his own. Her arms wrapped around her frame and he tightened his grasp on her.
Simmons spread her hands over the panel in front of her, looking at the table. Seven points connected the recently reclaimed chua space to what was former Shesvie territory, and beyond that, the heart of the Vral Empire. Her lip curled in a wicked smile, On the digital display of the table the hyperspace lanes, and more importantly, the avenues of attack her fleet was preparing to take. She held out her hand, all five fingers splayed over the lanes, envisioning the war as it stood now. The war to come. Seven hyperspace lanes, seven systems, branching out into sixteen, branching out again to another twenty. The Antares herself was going to link up with the Barraki, and was set to simply plough through the next five systems to do so. Slowly she tightened her hand into a fist as she looked along the hyperspace lanes, seeing task forces lined up and ready to jump. Drones had already been sent through. The vral had forces along the border, but nothing that could withstand what was to come. Her fleet was ready. She was ready. The Seventh Orion War was at the end of it’s first month, and had taken back six systems. The first moves of Operation Naked Sun would double that and exceed it, then double it again. She had already given her speech, her task force commanders were ready. High Command had taken it’s time making this decision, and while she had railed against the delay that didn’t matter now. All along the front, individual task forces were joined into larger fleets, ready to jump into the next system and eliminate any vral defenses, but unlike now, they simply would not wait. Naked Sun was to be a lightning strike to cut off as much of the Vral Empire as possible, to deny them their own space, to imprison them on their own worlds. Task Forces were designed around three types of vessels combinations, Lighthammer Task Forces were comprised of corvettes and fast destroyers, the fastest vessels in the fleet, meant to take systems quickly, to devastate unprotected infrastructure, and to eliminate light resistance. Simply put, they were going to swarm into vral space, determine pockets of resistance, and move on. They were going to rip entire sections of vral space from them, calling in other task groups if needed. Thunder task groups were the primary capital fleets, meant to be sent into those pockets of resistance, and neutralizing them, joining with the Lighthammer groups if needed. The cruisers, carriers, battleships, they all belonged to these task forces. Her own task force was called the Nova task force, and it comprised only the Antares and it’s sizable fleet escort. Simmons glanced up at the clock, the time was 1329. She breathed in slowly, then unbidden the thought came to her head and she looked to the report from the two habitable planets that had been scanned by the drone cutters, the information having been relayed to her almost twenty minutes prior. She was not worried about the ground campaign, in fact a reserve fleet from Thermopylae would be the ones to escort the landing ships from planet to planet that her fleet left behind in it’s wake, isolated and defenseless from the wider Vral Empire. Fleet escorting was no longer her job, protecting ground invasions were no longer her job. Simmons was positively growling now, as her only job was to take her fleet and use it to rip the vral out of the stars. Still, the thought nagged at her. On both of the planets that her fleet was set to overrun, there were Vral ships in orbit. On the first, there was evidence that the Vral had been bombarding a small area of the surface, extremely similar in size to the hole that now existed on Zvitia, the planet that even now was being integrated into the Terran Front. In the second system it showed Vral ships in orbit, but whatever they were doing during the time they had taken the scans, whatever they were covering up, they didn’t seem to have gotten to it yet. On the radiological scan of the planet a massive bloom of electromagnetic energy painted a broad region of the planet blistering white. She had sent the images back to Earth, back to High Command, but no one seemed to know what was happening. The one thing that every analyst agreed on so far that was that whatever the blooms represented, it meant nothing good. She took another long look at the radiological scan, seeing the intensity of the radiation, and her lip curled in a snarl. She couldn’t think about that right now, but orders had already been given to notify her the moment that they had taken a planet that still bore the radiation signal. The vral were being damned fastidious about it though. She pulled her thoughts away from it, looking back to the hyperspace lanes. The slow grin entered her features again. She glanced at the clock. 1330. Her hand took hold of the receiver next to her station and she pressed the transmission stud, knowing that Hazard had already opened a channel to the wider fleet.
“Commence.”

That’s all it was. A game.
Something my friends and I used to play during the summer when we had nothing better to do. I never expected that it would get so out of hand.
I never expected it to come back long after recovery.
To anyone reading, please don’t do what I did.
I’m putting this out there to warn people.
On that warm summer evening, we played the role of Pandora.
Except, the monsters we released were far worse than what’s told in stories.
Because stories end.
And this doesn’t.
I still remember the date. July 16, 2013. I was an upcoming senior in high school while the others were getting prepared for their freshman year of college, raving on about their majors, life plans, dorms, you get the point. The summer had been bittersweet as those months would be the last I’d see them for a while. Because of this, Anthony, Lola, Eliza, and I would spend the bulk of our time together going to festivals and various camping trips, trying to make the most out of the summer while we could. On that day, the day I wish I could forget, Eliza had run late to one of our hangouts at my place. This was odd since as an Ivy league student, she was usually early or right on time to these kind of things. Half past three, we heard her knocking on my door rapidly, which was also out of character considering that she was usually the calm one in our group. A bit worried, I hurried down the stairs with Anthony and Lola following close behind, expecting Eliza to be in hysterics due to her frantic behavior. When I opened the door, however, there she was with a bright smile on her face, her red hair getting in the way of her eyes, which were a dark green shade. She pushed her hair out of her face with one hand and held a brown box in the other, and she was bouncing up and down as she usually does when she’s about to talk about something exciting.
“You’ll never believe what I found.” Eliza’s voice could barely hold her impatience as she stepped inside and kicked her shoes off once she crossed over my threshold.
“What’s up with you today?” Anthony questioned, looking more confused than concerned now.
“I’ll show you guys in a minute. Can we go up to your room, Felix?” Eliza looked over at me with her trademark smile, knowing damn well we were all too curious to just leave that box unopened. Without a word, I led the group up to my room and shut the door after everyone had walked in. Anthony took his usual spot on my beanbag and unzipped his hoodie, which had the MSM logo sprawled across the front in big red letters. He adjusted his dark rimmed glasses and took on his usual stoic expression. Lola wore a dark blue FIT shirt, which she revealed more of when she moved her locs over her shoulder as she sat on my desk chair and wheeled over to us. As she did, the various necklaces she wore clinked against each other. Eliza herself was the smartest out of the group, and probably in the whole school as well. She had gotten accepted into multiple prestigious schools, but ultimately settled for Harvard to pursue a degree in some obscure philanthropic career. Unlike Anthony and Lola, Eliza wore her regular outfit –usually a white tank top and jeans– and sat on my bed with the box in her lap. I took a seat next to her to get a closer look.
“So what’d you find?” The others moved closer.
“Something we probably haven’t thought about for a really long time. Do you guys remember that one game we used to play in middle school? The one we made after Felix joined our class?” Eliza looked at our puzzled faces to see if we had connected the dots, but her clue didn’t seem to strike any of us with familiarity.
“After Felix joined? Didn’t we just hang out or something that weekend?” Anthony questioned.
“We did, but there was something else,” Eliza raised an eyebrow, “you guys seriously don’t remember?”
At that moment, I saw Lola’s eyes light up and a thin smile grew on her lips, something she always did whenever she was able to figure something out.
“You mean that little map game we played? Where we would go out to the woods and explore?”
Both Anthony and I seemed to have remembered as well with the mention of a ‘map game.’ I chimed in, “ yeah I remember! Every once in a while when we were all bored, we’d pick a random spot on a map to go to and explore there for a bit, right? When did we stop doing that anyways? I remember really enjoying it.”
“Well life happens,” Eliza responded to me, “but I was thinking of things to do for the rest of the summer when I suddenly remembered that game! That’s why I was so late for our meetup today, I was looking through my attic for this.” Eliza shook the box slightly and a couple things clattered around inside.
“There’s no way.” Anthony sounded like he was in disbelief.
“You mean…?” Lola sat forward in the chair. Eliza smirked, her adventurous nature creeping out as realization swept over us like a wave.
“Mhm! I found the map we used to use as well as the things we collected from our little escapades.” With that, Eliza opened the box, revealing a folded piece of paper and various trinkets scattered over the bottom of the capsule. Lola squealed with excitement and immediately snatched the box from Eliza, who simply chuckled and leaned back on the bed.
“No way! Everything’s still in here!” Lola digged through the box and placed whatever objects she found across the blanket. Anthony got up and sat at the foot of my bed, to observe our findings more closely. There was a piece of some clay pottery, some rusty springs and scraps of metal, an old digital camera, and some other random stuff I can’t recall to memory right now. Anthony picked up a spring and turned it in his palm.
“Shit man, this is from that abandoned junkyard we found in 8th grade…that feels like such a long time ago now.”
I examined the piece of pottery with Eliza looking over my shoulder. Lola picked up the digital camera.
“Do you remember where this came from?” I turned to Eliza and held up my discovery.
“No clue,” she shrugged. It must have been a while ago if even she didn’t remember. I turned the piece over and grew curious when I saw weird symbols inscribed on the inside of it. I squinted a bit, trying to discern some sort of pattern within the scribbles.
I turned to Eliza again, “hey, what do you think-”
“OH MY GOD GUYS IT STILL WORKS!” Lola’s voice went up a whole octave as she motioned to us.
The rest of us looked up as she turned the camera to face us. There were various photos we went through. All of us at lakes, museums, exploring the woods; everything we did from 7th grade until my freshman year seemed to be documented. The last photo was arguable the best and msot bittersweet. It was a picture of the whole group from a while ago. We were sitting at Eliza’s dinner table with a giant chocolate cake on the middle of it adorned with two candles shaped like the numbers one and five. Eliza was talking to me in the photo. Her hair was even more red at the time and she wore it in a braid. I looked about the same in the photo as I did then, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles scattered all over my body and face. I was smiling sheepishly at Eliza. I now knew why Anthony said it was obvious I had a crush on her in 8th grade. Lola went through the most changes out of all of us. At the time in the photo, she had her hair straightened and side-swept, with a bright pink streak in her bangs. She wore clunky jewlery and a frilly skirt underneath a long tank top, leaning over the table to cut another slice of cake. All of us had birthday hats on except for Anthony, who kept his sitting on the table. He held up a peace sign staring straight into the camera with a stoic expression. He looked like a statue compared to the rest of us, who were laughing and smiling. You could tell he was having fun, though.
“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine,” Lola snickered as Anthony shot her a dirty look.
“At least I didn’t go through some weird scene phase in freshman year,” He smiled and watched Lola’s face, knowing she was blushing despite her dark skin which made it practically invisible. I let a laugh slip out, but quickly stifled it knowing that if I kept going it would mean death. Lola side-eyed me and continued, “I was using my creative liberty to experiment with my options as an artist,” she said with an overly-posh accent that made Eliza laugh.
“Yeah Anthony, don’t be such a downer,” Eliza teased. Anthony simply rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile to pretend like he was mad at all of us. He looked into the box and picked up the paper we left, unfolding it with a hint of excitement and curiosity. When he looked at it, only two words came out of his mouth.
“Holy shit.”
“What, what is it?” Lola tried to look at the other side of the paper, but Anthony quickly held it out of her view.
“What if I didn’t want to show you?” A smile crept onto his face. This was one of those rare moments where he’d be in the moos to joke around with us.
“Don’t be a dick bro,” I said, laughing as I went to grab for the paper. Anthony just held it up in the air and pushed me off of him and I landed on my floor. While he was distracted, though, Eliza took her chance and snatched the paper right out of his hand.
“You boys need to learn to be nice,” she warned in her jokingly stern voice as she unfolded the paper and spread it out onto my bed. We all leaned over to look.
It was a map of a couple towns including ours. There were around ten small star stickers placed on different areas on the map near the streets the four of us lived in. On the top of the map, a couple words were scrawled in black sharpie; “Pick a Place!” I could see everyone’s faces light up.
“Oh my god it’s our map!” Lola shouted and pointed to one of the stars near her street, “this was where we found that old junkyard right?”
Eliza smiled, “I remember that. It feels like such a long time ago now.” She pointed to another star, “and this is where we found that lake we made a hideout of. I still remember swimming in there in 8th grade…”
The four of us reminisced for a while, talking about where we had gone and what we did there, and how impressive it was that we didn’t get tetanus from that junkyard. After nearly an hour of conversation, Eliza asked something that made all of us stop.
“So how about it guys? Do you want to do one last round before the summer ends?”
The rest of us looked around at each other. It was clear we all wanted to do it. Eliza seemed to catch on and she nodded.
“Who wants to pick where we go?”
“How about you do the honors?” Lola suggested, motioning towards the map. “You’re the one that brought this stuff in anyways.”
Eliza raised her eyebrow but didn’t object. Without a word, she examined the map for a few minutes, then placed her finger on one spot a bit far from my house.
“How about here?”
“You think we can make it that far?” Anthony asked.
“Well, we can drive now so why not?”
“You sure there’s some type of trail we can drive on? That spot looks pretty deep in the woods”
“We can find a path to drive on for a bit then walk the rest of the way. C’mon guys, this is probably our last chance to do something like this! Felix, you can drive right?”
Eliza and the rest turned to me with a hopeful expression. I had to comply.
“Sure. No big deal, right?”
All three of them cheered and high fived each other, looking pretty excited to go on one last adventure.
“So when do we leave?” I questioned.
Eliza flashed that smile again, “right now.”
“Right now?!”
“Hell yeah,” Lola chimed in. “It shouldn’t take that long, right?”
“I guess…” Even then I felt uneasy about the whole thing. I didn’t feel prepared enough to go on some random trip into the woods. I needed to pack food, water, flashlights, I had no idea how long this was going to take. Little did I know that those things would be the least of my worries a couple hours from then. I wish I could go back and convince my 17-year-old self that it wasn’t worth it, that I should just convince my friends to stay and talk for the rest of the day. I wish Eliza had never remembered that stupid game. In a way, I’m almost mad at her for what happened, but I know it wasn’t anyones fault. We just wanted to have fun. I wish we could’ve just had fun. But God had a different plan for us. One that made me think Satan himself devised it instead. On July 16, 2013, Anthony He, Lola Smith, Eliza Landserson, and Felix Johanson went on an adventure that none of them were ready for.
Author's Note:
If you just read all of that then thank you so so so much for doing so! I'm a rookie writer, so feel free to comment any constructive criticism you might have if you have actual writing experience! This is the first silly little story I'm posting here, so I hope you enjoyed :)

[FIRST][LAST]
Atlantis Commission
Officer Report - Lieutenant Colonel John Shepard
CLEARANCE LEVEL 5
Well this had definitely been a very interesting couple of hours. This dimension and its people had very odd opinions and ideas. Apparently the prey species of this dimension were all obligate cowards, whose instincts compelled them to be non-violent and run from threats. At least according to themselves. There were apparently some of them who were “predator diseased” as they called it, a disease which often resulted in increased violence, aggression, lack of empathy, and unheard like behavior. It sounded to me like some form of infectious psychopathy, but the venlil assured us it shouldn't affect us since we were predators, which didn’t really ease my fears, but hopefully it was something we could figure out when we got home if it ever became a problem.
Gotta love mandatory quarantine periods woo hoo!
As scary as this odd disease sounded, my main concern at the moment was to try and turn a professed coward into someone who could at the very least defend themselves.
I looked down to the table of gear ahead of me and then over to the mostly naked Venlil to my side, and then even farther to Tiel’c who thought It would be a good idea to help oversee Farva’s rapid fire training course. I fiddled with the bluetooth earpiece which was rigged up to one of our handhelds to run a translation program to speak directly with the captain. A big step up from our unknowingly one sided communications earlier.
I stepped on the other side of the plastic table and placed my hands down upon it and looked on at my new student..
“Welcome Captain Farva to our very impromptu accelerated course on Human arms armor and basic infantry tactics.” I said gesturing to the hodge podge gear we had managed to assemble for the good captain. “Are we ready to begin?”.
She flicked her ears, somewhat nervously by the looks.
“I’d take it that's a yes then?”
“Oh yes sorry”
“Alright then, well given that most of our crew is human and the only other alien struts around naked all the time, the only gear we have on hand is for humans, So you're going to be running size smalls and it's all going to fit all a bit big” I say as I toss her the tactical vest. ”Here try this on, we can try to tighten it up if it's a bit loose anywhere”. The captain wrestles with the buckles a bit, and Teal'c helps her tighten up some of the top straps, as the Venil’s shoulders weren't as broad as humans. Farva gave Teal’c an odd look, but seemed appreciative none the less.Once finished, she grasped the vest in her paws with interest. “This armor seems quite lightweight, which is nice, weight is often an issue that causes us to forgo armor, since heavy armor would hurt our running ability.” Farva remarks. “Also the sheer amount of pockets seems quite excessive, what do you need all these for?”
“Well for starters it's currently missing these '' I hand Farva one of the armor plates which she looks over. “That is a depleted Naquadria ceramic composite plate. It’s designed to stop bullet impacts and dissipate energy weapon blasts. It slots into that chest compartment in the front and back of your armor.”
“This isn't quite what Id imagine for the armor of your kind”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well judging by your ships I would have imagined you would put more emphasis on defense Your predatory nature would make you less likely to run away from conflict allowing for more encompassing armor to cover more than just your chest, since you have less need to run.”
She would put it like that.
“Well there are a number of reasons for that, a lot to do with those excess pockets you mentioned. For starters you will not be carrying the same amount of gear that the standard infantry unit would normally be carrying, we are preparing you for a quick in and out op. Normally us expedition teams need to be deployed into unknown territory for extended periods of time, we need to carry everything we might need with us from food, bullets, weapons, to comms gear, sensors, repelling equipment etc. The weight from all that gear adds up fast; In order to stay sufficiently mobile and combat effective; we only carry enough armor to protect our vitals, head and torso, anything else can hopefully be patched up by a field medic.”
Tielc gave his piece as well. “It is important to know when to run both towards and aways from one's foes, not every battle can be won through strength alone, but by strategy and cunning. Being able to reposition oneself quickly is therefore highly advantageous”
Farva seemed to freeze at Teal'c's statement, not out of fear I think, she instead had a distant look in her eye. To snap her out of her slump I handed her a standard ballistic helmet.
Seeming to get the idea she looked at it oddly and tried it on. It confirmed to her head shape decently well but depressed her ears to either side of her head, kind of resembling what one might imagine a sad bunny rabbit to look like “I don't think this will be something I can bring with me” she said ” I can't use ear signals and this will muffle my hearing.”
“Why don’t you keep it on for the time being, I think any extra hearing protection might be useful considering what we are about to try next.” I hand Farva some ballistic ear protectors, slightly modified and somewhat ramshackle. “One of the corporals worked closely with Nurse Fila to get an idea for safe decibels levels for your kind, we were also able to get these earbuds molded to fit into your ear canal better”
Farva took them and slipped them in. “These are a bit uncomfortable, what do I need these for?”
“You'll need them for this” I say as I unsnap the clasps on the weapons case revealing its contents.
The content seems to capture Farva’s interest, getting a slight tail wave.
“Okay So this here is a p90, It carries a 50 round top loading magazine of teflon coated armor piercing ordnance. With a cyclical rate of fire of 900 rounds per minute.”
Farvas ears perk up at this. “This seems like an efficient design, I take it these are a flashlight and laser sight for accuracy?” She asked, pointing to the top of the weapon.
“Yes we also have holographic and acog optics which will help line up targets from farther away.” I look on as Farva picks up the weapon and inspects it, testing the weight as I note that it will weigh a fair bit more once loaded. But she doesn't seem to be struggling with the weight. I can't help but notice good firearm safety as well, she keeps her finger well off the trigger and takes care to keep her weapon pointed aways from anyone else.
“This seems like a solid design but I'm not sure how useful those weapon optics would be, as they are not designed for my side facing eyes”
“I'm sure our master at arms can figure something out, why don't we give it a test fire first tho, before we send it off to make adjustments.” I instruct her on how to load the weapon and turn the safety off. I warn her of the sound it makes. And while definitely taken aback by the recoil and sound at first, she quickly gets the hang of it, she has some respectable shot groupings in both single fire and in short bursts. And keeps the rounds reasonably centered while firing in full auto.
She did a whole lot better than I would have initially suspected given her performance in the hanger bay a day before.
“The rate of fire seems useful” Farva spoke “This would be useful for our soldiers, our accuracy falters when we are panicked, and the increased shot count should guarantee some hits based on volume of fire alone” she finished with a dejected expression.
She quickly places the weapon back in its case, as if it burned to touch.” I don't know if I should be armed for this mission, at least not with that weapon, I don't want to miss and hit one of you in the back!”
“What? Nonsense, you are a great shot, and this is just a precaution in case we get separated or flanked and need some covering fire. If our guys are doing their job right you shouldn't need to fire a single round anyways.”
Captain Farva’s breathing started to hasten, earlier I might have thought it was fear, but I was starting to get an idea of what the captain's issues were. I’ve seen this before.
“I.. I can’t be trusted with this responsibility, every time I am left in charge of something, every time people put their lives in my paws I ....”
“Farva, don’t you start with me now you hear.” I said sternly, swiftly capping off her inevitable spiral of self doubt.
“But.. no.. you don’t understand”
Stopping her again I spoke. “But nothing, what happened before on that ship, and back at that colony is in the past. I don’t know your whole situation, but from what I have gathered from the crew It was nothing good. You feel responsible and it's eating away at you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if that's true or not. Accidents happen, people make mistakes, and when that happens we need to learn, take those lessons to heart, and don't let it stop us from helping people in the present. If you let guilt, or fear of mistakes stop you, then bad guys have already won, all without having to have fired a shot”
Farva is quiet for a short time, I was hoping I got through to her, I'm not the best and pep talks and this certainly wasn’t your typical weapons demo, if only everyones could go as smoothly as Ronan’s.
Farva spoke quietly, arms pressed up against her chest, she looked so sad, defeated, and small. Well more than usual anyways. “We can't be strong like you humans, we are too emotional and when we are scared we run away or we lock up and...”
“And that is clearly not the case with you captain Farva” Teal’c finally reentered the conversation having heard enough. “You have shown courage with every action you have taken so far, your actions have saved the lives of many of your crew, every time you have been threatened you acted not just to protect yourself but others as well. You attempted to contend with beings many times your size without even thinking about it, all in the effort to protect others, and this is only in the time we have known you, this speaks nothing of your actions over the colony. You are a warrior of admirable courage Captain Farva, your self doubt is unearned.”
A single tear rolled down Farva’s eyes which she quickly wiped away. “That was very nice of you to say, but I'm not brave like you say, I was terrified out of my mind the whole time.”
Teal’c looked puzzled. “I did not call you brave, I said you were courageous.”
Farva shot back with the little venlil one up one down ear flick I had very quickly learned was confusion.” I'm confused you just said brave twice”
“Hmm it appears your language does not contain the word I am using, I apologize I am not used to speaking through a translator” Teal’c relented “ There are two words I am using admittedly in slightly different forms, bravery and courage. Bravery or to be brave is to lack fear, to not be afraid to begin with. Courage tho, Is a trait far more admirable. Courage is to be afraid, to have fear, to worry about one's own mortality and personal safety. It is to acknowledge risk, danger, to feel fear, but to act in spite of it.”
“Had I not met your kind before I would have thought predators don't feel fear.”
“Everyone fears feel Farva, It is how we overcome it that determines our worth as warriors”
Teal’c picks up the p90 and returns it to Farvas hands.
“Your people need a warrior Farva, a warrior who protects the innocent and guides the lost to safety. You have shown how collected you can be in the heat of battle, You have already proven your worth in our eyes Farva, now you must do the same in your own. The greatest enemy lies not without” Teal’c places his hand firmly on the venlil’s chest “But within”.
After Action Report - Venlil Colonial Defense Force
Subject : Chief Engineer Donu
I fiddled with my holopad, Its small surface area proving to be a consistent source of annoyance in my current endeavor. Gone was the large workspace afforded to me by my holotable back in my office. Instead I had to work with the scaled down portable holotablet I was just fortunate enough to have strapped to my person when I was beamed away from our last ship. I was stuck with its smaller keyboard and slower rendering speeds.
An annoyed smooth skin alien looked over my shoulder at my device, attached to it was a jury rigged fiber optic cable, slotted into a terran silicon to crystal patch cable, which would convert the electrical signals broadcasted by my tablet into a bandwidth that the terrans crystalline based computers; which they used for highly complex tasks like hyperdrive and transporter systems; could use, and then It was patched again in a even stranger connector to patch into the odd asgard computer stones.
All in all it looked like someone tried to plug a regular computer into some crystal construct like you would find in a fantasy holonovel, and again plugged that into a harchen heat rock sauna lounge. Finally branching out from this conglomeration was a simple copper based wire that connects to a computer terminal at which currently sat the late Doctor Rodney Mckay. A title upon initially hearing led me to believe he was a medical doctor, which led to a flurry of medical questions that he had absolutely no means of answering.
While this odd alien nomenclature was interesting, what intrigued me more was his actual area of expertise, theoretical astrophysics, as well as a number of other diverse specialties and fields. Not to mention not only was he a great scientist who had he been raised in the more civilized portion of this galaxy, would have knowledge and aptitude that would put him alongside some of Aafas greatest minds, but he was also an engineer without peer, at least in this galaxy. His interactions with general Samantha Carter hinted at her possibly being his match if not more. For a species that was supposed to glorify violence the decision to have a scientist be arguably the most senior member of what was by their admission a military vessel spoke to their commitment to knowledge and understanding, a very noble prey-like goal.
I looked warily at the lines of code at my screen, the asguard translation program had earlier scanned our ship and was able to parse written languages, but complex files, like images and 3d design schematics were harder to encode and decode from our perspective systems. As is stands we have 3 completely separate computer architectures, the asguard can talk to human computers and the venlil computers can talk to the asguard computers, It sounds like we would have everything we need to get a human C.A.D schematic into a venlil holotablet right? Wrong! And you're stupid for entertaining such a idiotic notion! Parsing text from raw binary is relatively straight forward, you're just looking for patterns, repeating bit combinations that might infer letters and then iterating them over millions of times looking for patterns, letters, words, and then with a bit of help from some undecoded analog audio transmission, spoken language. This is a far cry from actual procedural communication protocols,the ones that allow for file transfers, exactly what we needed if we were to get Rodney's redesigned part schematics into a format and medium that can be plugged into a suitable fabricator. Assuming one still exists, which I can reasonably assume it does.
Speaking of which, I have just made something of a breakthrough. For upon my screen appears a simple geometric hydrogen cube, we’re talking vertices, planes, material data, everything we need for a usable design file.
I let out an excited pent up yip, the culmination of hours of frustrating software integration work. Unfortunately I startled Rodney, who lets out a panicked gasp and clutches his chest pelts with one of his paws.
“Oh god…..” He gasps, pointing at me “Please.. don’t do that”
“Sorry!” I say a bit meekly. I slowly approach him so as to not make him unnecessarily uncomfortable and show him my work.
“I got the file exchange set up, all we need from you is to finish any modifications to your part, upload them to my holopad, and then we can print away at any class 3 or above fabricator we can scrounge up on Brayga colony.”
“Ok.. um.. got it, I'm almost done i’m just you know” He points a lone grasping appendage at his screen,”Running some simulations, making sure everything is up to spec.” keeping his response kurt. “Sorry for freaking out there.”
I nod my head in the human display of affirmation and return to my workstation to further bug check my work, to test potentially problematic edge cases for when he finishes. Tho Rodney's continued odd behavior intruded on my thoughts.
I should have felt empowered, being able to intimidate this ‘massive beast’, but I didn't. I didn't like being feared, his people have been nice to me, Rodney himself courteous to a fault and desperate for positive attention.
I thought I could expect predators to be fearless but that clearly wasn't the case, rodney was fearful, nervous, had I not known better I would say defective, and while it annoyed his crew, they didn't berate him for it, or attempt to assert dominance, they encouraged it even with placating words and tried to help him through it, they encouraged and supported him like a proper herd, even if sometimes it took the form of what the human would call a playful ribbing. I supposed I could help him as well.
I approached him again, careful to make my approach known to him, making sure to approach from within his limited field of vision. He looks up at me with a wide eyed glare, had I not known him I might have assumed it was hunger, but I did and knew it to be concern.
“Uh high Donu.. um whats up?”
“Why are you afraid of us rodney?”
“Wa-What, me afraid?” he gives out a panicked laugh ”uh no no, I'm not afraid, you know just a bit weirded out I'm just getting used to you all, it's not a fear thing it's a a…. Just getting used to new aliens thing, ask Hermirod we went through this whole song and dance right buddy”
Hermirod furrowed his brow and gave an irritated sigh from across the room.
I reached out to take Rodney by the paw.
His whole body flinched at my mere touch, I quickly withdrew my paw.
“Oh.. um.. I didn't…”
“Rodney! It's okay, your crew doesn’t seem to care when you show fear, and neither do I. Why are you afraid of us? You are almost twice our size and surely double our strength, most venlil would scream and run in terror at the mere sight of you. What's wrong?”
Rodney let out a sigh. “Oh its, we don't have to talk about this, I can deal with this, I deal with scary situations all the time, it's fine, I'll be fine.”
“Rodney, my people are a very emotional, empathic people, we are open with our feelings and with our fear, and the fear of the one can affect the herd, please let me help you. I don’t know what to expect from your society but I promise I wont judge you for your fear or emotions, I mean look at many of my crew mates, we are no one to judge”
Rodney shot back “You didn't seem to be so bothered”
“I’m too old to care, I was about to retire, hell I was about to die as far as I knew, Brayga colony was supposed to be a quiet place to lay back, work on some hobbies, plant a garden and pester the young men of my colony until I either dropped dead of boredom or got lucky” I joked.
That seemed to raise Rodney's mood somewhat. He sighed and seemingly relented.
“It’s… a dumb story, I don't even know why it affected me so much, I come from a place on earth called Canada, people don't usually believe me when I say I am from there, us Canadians are notoriously friendly and I guess I haven’t exactly filled that mold for a lot of my life, but hey I'm working on it, people like me, I have lots of friends back at Atlantis” He says the last sentence in a way as if it isn't me he's trying to convince.
“I'm sure you do, Rodney, You seem like quite the charming individual when you're not cowering!”
“Ha ha thanks, maybe you could come and visit sometime. Tell that to doctor Becket, really nice guy, smart man, he would love to meet you, he loves investigating new species. But back on topic, oh boy, so me and my sister Jeannie were on a family trip to rural Vancouver to visit my grandpa's farm, he kept a lot of goats, not for eating or anything, they were essentially pets that he would use for milk”
“Wait hold on? You drink milk from other animals! Do your females not produce enough milk for their young?”
“Oh um no, we just sort of drink it or ferment it into cheese!”
“Ferment? You mean spoil?
“Yeh”
I reeled from this plasma blast of a statement, I like any right minded venlil had a number of nightmares about being an arxur’s cattle before, especially when I first learned about those things in primary school, but never once had it crossed my mind that we could be used for something so weird. What the speh was I supposed to do with that information?
“Maybe you should get back on topic”
“Yeh sorry about that uh.. Anyways the momma goat had just had a litter of babies, and their real cute when their little, so late in the day when my grandpa was asleep we snuck out to the pens so we can play with the little baby goats, our grandpa told us not to but you now how kids are.”
At this I think back to a young Nyan, as I teach him the inner working of the hyperdrive, I tell him he’s not cleared yet to operate in this engine compartment alone, but I could tell from the occasional caught black hairs and dropped writing implements, there had been a number of curious unauthorized expeditions into its inner workings, he didn't really listen either.
“My sister as always was trying to be the voice of reason, wanting to take it slow. If I was paying attention I might have noticed the angry moma goat who didn’t appreciate the strange human messing with her children.”
The color seemed to drain from his face.
“I uh…” He began to stutter again ”I screamed, a lot, it was rather undignified, she ran right at me, thank god it wasn't a male goat, one with horns, I tired to run but I was hit in the back and knocked over and kicked real good in the head, like wake up in the vet clinic a quarter mile down the road kind of bad”
“This goat was a prey animal?”
“That would be what your kind focuses on”
“Oh sorry”
“Anyways It seems dumb but I have just never been good with animals since then, especially ones that look like you; no offense; I'm getting better but when I first saw you guys in the hangar bay, I was just that dumb kid again, getting in way over my head, scared for my life. I guess there is something to be said about childhood trauma. I really should be over this, I'm getting better with it I swear it’s just”
I take his paw again, he doesn't flinch this time.
“I'm a venlil, a prey animal, I know fear, I know what it is to live in fear, It rattles your brain, it turns your paws to wet grains. It takes great strength to overcome it, to push it aside just long enough to protect the herd. Your herd relies on you Rodney and you are doing a great job in spite of your fear, in spite of having to work with those you fear. You have achieved intellectual feats that rival the greatest minds of the federation and all that while struggling with a traumatic experience. Fear isn’t dumb and there is nothing wrong with you for feeling it.”
“Thank you” Rodney says “That means a lot, I won't be like forever I promise, I just need some time.”
“We will laugh about this someday,” I assured. “Nothing as big and intelligent as you should be afraid of anything”
“Are you calling me fat?” Rodney exclaimed with fake offense.
We both chuckled.
My kind words had resulted in a more upright posture, and a more cheerful demeanor from the human, almost like when I congratulated Nyan on his work, and it got me a look at that happy snarl of his, that I was starting to grow quite fond of.
After Action Report - Venlil Colonial Defense Force
Subject : Apprentice Engineer Nyan
Oh wow! I get to write a report for this mission! I never get to write reports, Donu says they're too boring, but there’s so many interesting things going on all the time. Sometimes I sneakily write my own! Just for fun of course, nobody sees them, which is probably for the best as I sometimes get excited and embellish them slightly. One of the reports I wrote was about the time Donu used nothing but a wad of electrical tape, a bottle of high grain venlil alcohol and a pocket knife to repair a venlil medical ship just in time to get out of the way of a big scary space predator, with glowing red eyes and a million tentacles!
Anyways Im not sure If im suppose to write these In present tense first person or past tense. I asked the captain and she said it's whatever so long as I make sure any pertinent dialogues are properly quoted(“”).
“Nobody usually reads these things anyways.” She said, but this one is surely going to be so exciting, who could look away!
I mean who's gonna scoff at a chance to read about friendly predators from another dimension! A dimension of friendly predators who give warm head scratches and hand out yummy strayu not strayu treats called donuts, that are somehow fluffier than strayu, and have a nice moisture to them. I asked for the recipe but Samantha said we wouldn't have the ingredients back on Venili prime to make them, and Teal'c said the recipe is an old family secret. Its weird predators would be so protective of their plant snacks.
There are so many weird things about these predators, they have nurturing instincts that make them find us cute. They stay perfectly balanced even if they don’t have tails, swinging their arms and body all over the place to keep upright like a lopsided gyroscope, it's pretty funny looking!
They also wear artificial pelts all the time, which I thought was weird, I thought maybe the ships temperature was set by the angry gray alien since he’s the only crew member beside the venlil who walks around naked all the time, maybe he had a fit when it was to warm, and the humans obliged him cause they were worried they would make him even angrier, and wore clothes to make up for the cold. I thought this made sense, a lot of their technology does seem to come from the Asguard, maybe he has more say in the goings on of the ship because of that. But apparently humans just like wearing pelts all the time. They feel uncomfortable without them and don’t like it if you try to remove them or look up their upper artificial pelts they call shirts.
The humans are so weird, I don’t even have to embellish my reports to make it more interesting. Like that time with the big tentacled space predator. That may sound real compared to this stuff but it Isn't, Ha! I bet you fell for it at first, hook line and sinker! Like the humans would say. I think I used that saying right, I'm not sure what it means, but Shepard brought it up when he was telling a story about the wraith.
The humans are so nice, instead of exterminating their predators they try to cure them! Their doctors are working to modify the wraith so they don't have to eat humans anymore, so they can be friendly predators too.
Anyways I should probably get to the actual report part of this report. Farva says I should start after I went off with Samantha to work on some special astrophysics equations she said I would be good at. I kind of wanted to go with Donu to help Rodney get the new parts they needed, or Farva to help rescue our people, but the humans and even the angry gray alien got really weird when Farva mentioned taking me on the mission. Samantha seemed to want me to help her really badly so I didn’t mind. Samantha says I have the most important part to our mission. She's teaching me about how humans communicate through subspace, and about stellar drift equations. We are working on what she calls the exit strategy.

Hi, I know some of you have been interested in Joost’s written stuff, so this is one of them. It’s a short story that Joost wrote for Boekenweek voor Jongeren (Book Week for Young People) in 2019. There’s more info about it here (in Dutch) https://www.vice.com/nl/article/qvgzpv/joost-klein-schreef-een-kort-verhaal-over-een-wilde-nacht-in-berlijn and there was also this promo video for it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx7wxnpxps0. It's been translated from Dutch - maybe not the most perfect translation but it's readable. Original in Dutch here. Enjoy

"How come he suddenly has cash?" I looked at Gurb, but he avoided my gaze. Louis never had money and yet he was buying another round. Meanwhile, a Moby song was playing and nothing made sense. "If he has money for drinks, he can surely pay me back, right?"
Just a few hours ago, I was alone in Berlin. Now, ten hours later, I'm standing in some obscure techno club with my best friends. Loud rock music with drunken shouting. "Hey, Miss Murder, can I make beauty stay if I take my life?" I woke up that day with a mild hangover from the lonely yet people-filled night before. Perfect conditions for a 20-year-old dropout.
The Hard Rock Café was the most beautifully ugly place in Berlin. Gurb had driven for seven hours straight in his mother's car, but we didn't notice. An iconic black Mini Cooper. Your body leads your mind, the beat never stops, and you can conquer the world. Louis threw in another crazy dance move. We were happy.
"Do you want another drink, brother?" Gurb asked me, half shouting. An evening filled with rhetorical questions. He saw me dancing and already knew the answer.
Gurb always had money. Louis, on the other hand, never did. Louis was also the youngest of us three. He had just turned 18. I wouldn't call him a cunning fox. More like a jack-of-all-trades. Like the time he made a lot of money on a Wadden Island with a group of boys. They sold large blocks of hash.
"Crazy dude!" I shouted at him. He yelled something back.
"Do you remember back then?" Louis said.
"Back then? Back then? Yeah man, of course!" I had no idea what he meant. "Do you mean the party?"
"Do you mean the party, he says! This guy. When I look at you like this, it makes me happy. The exact same kid is here letting loose just like back in high school!"
We knew each other from secondary school. He joined when I was in the second grade. He was very intelligent. Too young, too much knowledge of the world. His mother is from Brazil. We often went to his mother's place to play on the Playstation Louis and I had bought together.
I lived everywhere at that time. In the crisis shelter where I stayed for a while, for example, I wasn't allowed to have a Playstation. So we set it up in an accessible place, near school. It was always fun with Louis. Going together to the Apple Store. Taking all kinds of photos with all the webcams, posting them on Hyves, and then leaving. Louis always knew how to cheer me up.
"Aaaaaaaaaa!" There was Gurb with five drinks in his hands. Gurb was wearing a blue checkered shirt. Two buttons undone. Hair slicked back. "You look good, brother!"
"You look fresh too! We all look fresh!" Gurb said enthusiastically. Louis was wearing a completely white outfit. We quickly bought this before going out. He also bleached his hair.
"You look like the Brazilian cousin of James Dean in these clothes," I said. Louis laughed. "Let me take a picture."
Suddenly, the DJ switched to some kind of techno. "Ah, here Berlin briefly takes off its mask." I was fine with it all. Louis was talking to a lady.
Voluptuous breasts, I thought to myself. He gave her one of his two drinks.
"He's with a girl and he's thinking with his dick," I said to Gurb. "Let him be, tonight Berlin is ours!"
The bass kept pounding. "I simply don't have the patience for the club," I said to Gurb. He looked surprised. Like a sweet dog, tilting his head. "I'm just waiting for tomorrow. Can't do my thing here. Don't have patience for the already known. I want adventure and I want it now!"
Gurb started laughing. "Patience is a virtue." Yes. Patience is all well and good, but I think it's a waste of my time. Gurb grabbed my shoulder.
"I think it's time for another beer."
Louis and I were walking through Leeuwarden a year ago when suddenly a red Ford Ka stopped in front of us. It was Gurb, casually driving around the city. He invited us into his car. We hopped in. Since that afternoon, the three of us were together. A few months later, Louis got a tattoo on his ribs in honor of our friendship. It was the name of our group chat. Braddar Force Indigo.
There were also days when Gurb would take me for a drive around Friesland. He reminded me how beautiful Friesland is. The world doesn't spin there. The newspapers I threw away in the Stiens forest in 2011 could still be lying in the same spot, so to speak.
Just before midnight, I found myself in line for the restroom. My eyes fell on a pair of striking shoes. Cigarette smoke invaded my nose for the fourth time. "Müssen Sie eine Zigarette haben?" a female voice spoke to me. I felt like Tom Hanks in the final scene of Angels & Demons, where the new pope first steps onto the balcony. The curtains opened. There I was, witnessing an important moment in history. I was just told how I was sent by God, but my ears didn't want to hear any of it. At least that's how I felt. My mouth was empty. I had no words left. That's when I knew for sure. Berlin might really be as crazy as literally everyone says.
Dark blond, silky hair. Was this real beauty then? She wouldn't look 40, but I think she was. A true woman. Beautiful in all her elegance. I always joked about being interested in older women, but tonight one stood in front of me. "I don't smoke," I said to her.
Someone tapped me. "Please, just go to the toilet!" He was right. I hadn't peed in a while either. My urine was cloudy. "Glomerulonephritis," I said to myself on the toilet. This is an unusual condition. It's an inflammation in the kidneys, I thought I remembered. They should never have given me access to Google.
The evening progressed, and Louis kept buying rounds. "But seriously now. How does Louis suddenly have all that money for drinks?" I asked Gurb. He was outside smoking with a group of Swiss girls. I had strategically positioned myself so that I could always leave the crime scene if necessary.
"You shouldn't ask me," said Gurb. He was laughing with the temporary girlfriend group of Louis. Gurb has a beard. A lot of chicks like that. I get it too.
As much as I enjoyed Louis and Gurb being here for me, something didn't sit right with me. It couldn't just be about the money. "What's up with him?" I heard one of the Swiss girls say to Gurb.
Those kinds of questions really tire me out. "Not much, with you?" I replied.
They all started laughing. "That's not what she meant, brother," said Gurb.
"I couldn't care less whether she meant it or not. Send that brace-face back to Switzerland. Don't drive me crazy, alright!"
Actually, I hadn't drunk that much that evening. "Two vodka Sprites, please!" It's rare for me to get just one drink. "I always get two drinks, then you have to wait shorter for the third one!" Maybe the alcohol was affecting me more than I wanted to admit. Oh well, it was still the three of us against the world.
"Nice shoes, are those Prada?" I asked a random girl at the bar.
"No, these are fake. Why would I buy real ones for 600 dollars if I could just buy these for 20?"
"..."
I'm not very good at that. Talking. To women.
Louis and Gurb were in the smoking area now. It was less blue than the dance floor itself. My clothes already stank, so a visit to the smoking area couldn't hurt. "These people are so underground!" Gurb shouted. Louis was filming him with his phone. "These people..." There was a brief pause. As if Gurb forgot the only line he had. "...so underground!" All three of us burst into laughter. The alcohol flowed through our veins as if it came from the purest mountains. People seemed doubled and the room was full. We had been in the same club in Berlin for several hours.
"Leonardo! What are you hiding from the big boss?" I sometimes called Louis ‘DiCaprio.’ "You a rich guy, now?" I said, with an accent as if I were from the Bronx.
Louis started laughing. "Eh, you know nothing. Bullshit talk."
I had to laugh too. What was I even worried about? Friends are friends, with or without money. That shouldn't matter. Louis probably just worked for that money. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe he just had enough to buy rounds. But what if my gut feeling was right? That feeling was never wrong. Except for that one time at the Holland Casino in Groningen. Even the best of us have slip-ups. I was just getting worked up again. When it comes down to it, Louis is one of the sweetest guys I know. I had to let it go. After all, it's still Louis.
"I think I'm going to have sex soon, man," Louis said.
"With who?" I asked immediately.
"That one girl."
"Which one?"
"The one with the boobs."
"Oh, her. Just be careful."
"What kind of reaction is that?" Louis asked indignantly.
I'd only had four drinks, but I was acting like a mess. Louis was right. I didn't understand myself. Where was my head at? I'm here in Berlin, supposed to be having the time of my life, but here I am feeling lonely and sad again. Joost once again couldn't control his emotions.
"Sorry," I suddenly said to Louis. "Sorry for my behavior. Been acting dumb towards you all night. It's unnecessary." Sometimes I have that. Mood swings. "Know that crime is never the solution. We've talked about this so many times. Yes, it's tempting and sometimes easy money. I sometimes find it amusing too, but it's always hypothetical. Ask me for help. I can help you, even with illegal things. I'll always have your back." The dancing was kind of over.
The words I had just placed on Louis's plate came from my heart. My Frisian, irregular boys' heart.
Crying in the club. I had never seen myself like that. Crying, yes. In the club, no. I never understood the taboo around crying. Or emotions in general. I saw myself in the mirror. They weren't tears of joy. They weren't tears of sadness either. It was me letting everything go. All the emotions I had ever felt. The emotions I felt between my brother and sister and myself because they wanted to take on a parental role over me, but I was in puberty, so I pushed them away. The emotions I felt when my old neighbors were supposed to take care of my dog, but didn't tell me that he was bitten by one of their dogs. They didn't have money for the surgery, they later told me. They were ashamed of their lack of money. My dog died from this injury. Even the emotions that were all jumping at once during the retake for my swimming diploma A, I let go of.
No emotions. Just for a moment, not feeling anything. Is that too much to ask for?
"You still don’t smoke?"
It had to be the voice of the woman with the cigarettes. I looked over my shoulder through the mirror. It was her. The one with dark blond, silky hair.
"Not to be rude, but this is the men’s room," I said. She took a step closer and kissed me on my lips. It tasted like more. We started kissing. It had been a while since I had had female contact at this level. It probably didn't look good and it didn't feel good either. She started kissing my neck. Slowly, I noticed the pressure in the erectile tissues of my penis starting to increase. "I really don't have time for this!" I thought to myself. The woman with the cigarettes started to slowly sink down until she was on her knees. I didn't want this. Not now, not like this. She unraveled my penis from my Polo Ralph Lauren underwear. Her tongue was blue. It was probably from cheap shots of alcohol.
Was this real beauty then? Was this the beginning or the end of her story? And had I become the boy my parents hoped I would be? I thought about the fact that this was once someone's little daughter. Somewhere in the world, an old man might be wondering what his daughter is doing. Am I really putting pleasure above my own morals and values?
With my semi-erect circumcised penis still exposed, I lifted her up. After giving her a kiss on her forehead, I pulled up my pants and left the toilets.
It was the usual last hour in any club ever. I met Louis and Gurb at the bar. "Should we have another drink?" I asked Gurb. "I feel like having a cocktail. Something sweet. Lots of sugar. What about you?"
Gurb looked at the menu. "A cognac would go down well right now."
"A cognac? You're only nineteen!" Gurb and Louis laughed. "Two Tequila Sunrises please!" I called to the bartender. "Also, two beers! Thanks!" I also got a beer for Louis. At first, I didn't want to, but I didn't want to spoil the mood either. Besides, I didn't want to show too much that it bothered me so much.
We danced away the last minutes. The club closed, and we decided to walk with the group of Swiss girls. Apparently, they were staying nearby.
As I lagged behind the group, one of them tried to start a conversation with me. "Are you okay?" she asked kindly.
"I'm fine. Just had too much beer. Makes me sleepy." Not true at all, but I've heard people say that.
"You’re tired? The fun has only just began!" And as she said this, she pulled something out of her inner pocket. Her clenched fist, shielded by a half jacket. Who is this girl, anyway? I thought to myself. She opened her hand flat, and right in the center of her palm lay two small pills with a smiley face on them. At least, they looked like it.
"Oh, I don’t do drugs. Sorry."
"Me neither!" And she swallowed a pill. "Now it’s your turn... Or are you scared?"
Scared? Who did this crazy Swiss witch (with really beautiful eyes) think she was. With her "are you scared". I'll show her who's scared.
"Scared? I’m not scared." I picked up the remaining pill and swallowed it.
Everything went in slow motion. Was this who I had become? Was this the same boy from high school? And just before I could swallow, I spat out the pill. She was shocked. I picked up the pill again, dried it with my jacket, and put it back in her fist. "Maybe later!" I shouted, running back to the group, over my shoulder.
I have nothing to say to 9 out of 10 peers I come across. Of course, I can be social. I can also have fun with random people in random situations, but that night, it just tired me out. I also didn't understand what we were doing there. Those girls found me strange anyway. Suddenly, I was the fifth wheel.
"We know this place where they go until 7 in the morning!" The girl leader of the group spoke. I wanted to go home. "If you guys want, you can go. Don't worry about me," I said to Gurb and Louis. The boys had a brief discussion. We agreed to stay for just a little while longer for some drinks. I consented. I was thirsty. "I'll have a Fanta, Louis."
Gurb had reached the last cigarette in his pack. Louis and a girl from the group were nowhere to be found. It didn't even bother me. This guy just walks around with some cash in his pocket and all hell breaks loose. After a night full of stimuli, I understood Louis. Of course, I understood Louis. He's a young god. Handsome, smart guy. But that didn't make me any less angry. It was purely about trust for me. Something inside me said I should stop subconsciously expecting things from people too. It prevents disappointment.
"Hotel please!" I jokingly suggested to Gurb. "Should you call Louis or should I?" I added. Gurb immediately grabbed his Android smartphone and called Louis. He put the call on speaker.
"Are you ready?" Gurb asked.
"Yeah. Sort of."
"What do you mean?"
"We didn't have sex."
"That's fine, right? Tomorrow's a new day!"
"I think I'm in love, man," Louis said.
"...," Gurb said, chuckling as he let out a sigh.
Once we arrived at the girls' hostel, it was already getting light. Louis was thankfully back. There were stains on his pants, around his knees. My focus was solely on arranging a taxi. Although the boys were still flirting, I was really done now. "How are we going to pay for this taxi?" I said a bit too loudly.
There was a silence. "Don't worry. I still have cash," Gurb said.
"Yeah, I knew you would," I replied.
My words clearly hit Louis. "What do you mean by that?" he said.
It was as if time stood still for a few seconds. "Exactly what I said. Better listen." Louis pulled out a small wad of green bills from his pocket. At least 400 euros. "I don't even want to see that money," I reacted. I walked away.
I'll just order a taxi myself.
"Why are you walking away now?" Gurb said.
"Twelve hours ago, I was alone too, and I had a lot more fun then."
"Do you really want to know how I got this money?" Louis said.
Yes, I did want to know. My whole evening revolved around that damn money.
He took a second of pause before he began speaking. "The answer lies in the Mini."
What on earth could be in Gurb's mother's car? Louis was trying to get into my head. "Taxi!"
Once in the taxi, the division was clear. Gurb was upfront, chatting animatedly with the driver. All adventures ever were recounted. Louis and I in the back. One of my best friends since I was thirteen. Funny how things turn out. It was quiet between us. I was in my head, rehearsing how I would bring up the money again. It didn't add up, and he knew it himself. "I don't care, you know," I said, hoping he'd break.
"What don't you care about?"
"About that money."
"What money? You're really a crazy woozy man." Louis burst out laughing again.
On the other hand, it was silent. Gurb had started talking about the driver's family. The driver didn't appreciate it. Gurb meant well. The driver smelled of alcohol. Or was it me? His nails were polished. Maybe his wife was a specialist. I bite my nails myself. Like now.
"In the Mini, oh yeah."
"Shut up. Illegal man."
"You'll never know."
"Stop playing. Just say it!"
Louis grabbed my head, pulled himself towards me, and brought his mouth to my right ear. "Why so serious?" he whispered. He didn't want to tell me.
"But always with this damn money, huh?" I almost shouted at Louis. I broke every silence within a radius of 10 kilometers.
"I'm trying my best, bro. It is what it is. I can't make it any different," he replied. It was clearly bothering him deeply. He ran his hands through his hair. "Sometimes people have to do things. And you know that better than anyone. Sometimes they have to do things they don't really want to or aren't supposed to do."
I knew this spiel all too well. Through all the drunken haziness, I suddenly saw a small glimmer of light. A tiny spark of sincerity. Louis was serious this time.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to involve you in this. I'm sorry," sweat dripped from his forehead.
"You're serious, huh? Damn, man. What mess have you gotten yourself into now? Worse than Terschelling?" Worse than Terschelling would mean stolen goods. Maybe even violence.
"It's not what you think."
"The Adlon Hotel, right?" the driver chimed in. Always saved by the bell, that Louis.
Suddenly I hit my head against the seat in front of me. Of course, I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. The last thing I saw was Gurb waking up in panic from his drunken stupor. One by one, I started losing my senses. It started with the feeling in my fingers. For a brief moment, everything wasn't quite black, and I could only see a vague pattern of colors repeating inside my eyelids. You could compare it to the brief moment after the commercial break before the movie starts in the cinema. The movie was about to begin.
I knew I wasn't dying. At least not yet. Not like this. Not after an overall mediocre night out in Berlin. I found comfort in the image I forced myself to see. It was all in my head. There I was, unconscious.
I saw myself in a third-person point of view. It wasn't like I was actually leaving my body. More like there was a webcam hanging in one of the upper corners of the taxi.
As a child, I used to dream a lot about death. Nights spent awake.
At some point, I developed a kind of compulsive behavior. I kept swaying my torso from left to right with my hands under my head. It became almost like a workout before bedtime. Every night.
I called it dream shuffling. Just like I had learned to shuffle puzzle pieces or playing cards. Making things a little exciting for yourself. But what I almost never told anyone was that I was scared. I was afraid of burglars, who were very agile and muscular.
Especially afraid that they would murder me. I really wanted to know what death was like. It scared me.
These fear visions originated during an all-inclusive vacation in Turkey. I was 6 years old and already in bed. There was a big old TV in our hotel room, so I could secretly watch TV from bed. Every evening, my parents sat on the balcony. Here they discussed their day while enjoying a glass of alcohol. There was a Japanese animated series on TV. In the few seconds that I watched, I saw a scary creature climbing a sort of apartment complex via the balconies. The creature had hundreds of teeth and blond hair. It quickly entered to decapitate the people, then drained them and, as a final insult, robbed them. Dozens of carcasses of dead people were scattered around the apartment complex. The complex on TV resembled the resort where we were in reality, and the TV world merged with my surroundings. I became part of it. I saw people watching. No matter how loudly I screamed for help, they didn't react. The sun became very bright, and the people turned into nothing more than shadows. As the intensity of the sun increased, something became clear to me. These were not people. They had a sort of orange skin. Where I had previously thought it was their nose and mouth, it turned out that these shadowy figures did not have such physical features. They simply had three holes in their heads. The police tried to do something, but in vain. Since then, we always kept the light on in the hallway outside my bedroom. By rocking back and forth, from left to right, I could glance fleetingly at the beam of light under the door. That bit of light, escaping from the hallway into my room, gave me an advantage. It allowed me to stay one step ahead of the burglars. Pretty smart, right?
"From Jamaica to the world!
It’s just love. Why must the children play in the street?"
It was Bob Sinclar with "Love Generation" speaking to us through the taxi's speakers. We were stationary. I was conscious again, but I didn't feel alive at all. "How long was I out?" I asked Louis.
I could tell by his expression that he was relieved. Relieved that I was back. "One minute," he almost apologized. Louis gave me a pat on the shoulder. Gurb, on the other hand, was sleeping. He slept like a baby cub.
I put my right index finger on my forehead. It felt wet, but it wasn't blood. Blood feels different. Meanwhile, I kept hearing whistling.
"Be the love generation! Oh yeah!" It was still that same song by Bob Sinclar.
The earlier scent of alcohol had now been replaced by the smell of incense. It smelled like the same incense I had in my room. Sold to me as Tibetan 39 incense. I had bought it at a coffee shop in Rotterdam. I pulled up my notes on my phone. "Who lights incense in a CAR????" I let Louis read from my screen. He took the phone from my hands and started typing as well.
"Look at Gurb >>>" Gurb was so deeply asleep that his head drooped. His seatbelt held his torso in place, but his head ended up on the driver's shoulder. The man didn't mind. He didn't move. I made eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror, and soon I found him. He winked at me.
We arrived at the hotel. Gurb awakened from his alcoholic hibernation. "Who's going to pay for the taxi?" I asked. Clearly rhetorical. I already knew I would take this one for the team, as usual. I refused to use Louis's money. It was uncomfortably quiet. "By card please," I said.
"I'll always protect you, Louis. You really need to know that. I care about you like my own little brother. I'll always try to help you. But you have to be honest with me. Can you do that?" Louis didn't hesitate.
"Yes. Yes, I can. I'll show you. It's really in the Mini." Meanwhile, the taxi driver's card machine indicated that I had insufficient funds. That couldn't be right. Maybe I had withdrawn too much that evening.
"I have cash in the hotel room," Gurb said to me. Gurb informed the driver in broken English that he would go get his cash. The driver agreed. Money is money, whether it comes now or later. As long as it feels good in your hands.
Louis and I got out of the taxi. "You're not going to light a cigarette now, are you?" Louis wanted to smoke. "Especially for stress. That's really for people who can't handle pain. You need to feel pain. Pain needs to brand you for the rest of your life so you finally learn not to do such stupid things." It fell silent again. My blood boiled. All pots were on the stove. I felt like Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen. "Show me then. Do it."
Louis remained silent and walked around the corner of the hotel. Towards the parking lot. I followed him. "You're not going to find much," said Louis.
"Why not? Are you a magician?"
"No. Just. Not much."
"So there's suddenly magically nothing in Gurb's car?"
"Stop. Get out. Get out of my head!" Louis shouted. Louis had had enough. He was done with the parade. Normally we dealt with hypothetical stories. Only this time it wasn't a joke. I was sure now. Louis had dropped his mask. The revolution had begun. The government had fallen and the dikes had broken. The people were in charge. "You shouldn't freak out like this. Always wanting more. Sweet boy, think about yourself."
After Gurb gave the money to the driver, he came to us. He had a smile on his face, lit a cigarette, and exclaimed, "Brothers!" Once with us, he hugged me. He started laughing. "Maybe I haven't been entirely honest either." Sometimes Gurb seemed like a 38-year-old man. In a positive way. He exuded confidence in a way I didn't often see. Affectionate, with a hint of authority.
We stood in the middle of a large parking lot. "Look. We've reached a point where I might not even care anymore. You guys are teasing me." It did matter to me. Maybe more than ever. I was supposed to be two steps ahead of them, but I couldn't figure it out. "I give up."
The delightful silence returned. Louis and Gurb looked at each other. "You guys win. Apparently, I'm not to be trusted as a friend."
From Louis's expression, I could tell he disagreed with this. "Not true. Come to the car."
We arrived at the car. Louis unlocked it and searched for the trunk button. Gurb had started his third cigarette. "It's a corpse, isn't it? Say it now. I can still help you. I can still help us. I can book a ticket for you. We can get you out of here," I said to Louis.
"Just wait. Nutcase."
"Why won't you accept my help?"
Louis started laughing nervously. Or at least it seemed that way. Perhaps a sly laugh too. Had Louis killed someone? "It's not a corpse. That can't be. You wouldn't be stupid enough to use their ID. You're smarter than that. So it must be something stolen. Haven't you found that button yet?"
Suddenly, we heard a click. Louis had found the button. Somewhere, I didn't want to know. Shouldn't I just trust Louis? Wasn't that the whole point of friendship?
Finally, the moment had arrived. I placed my right hand in the slot of the rear hatch. Something in me doubted. Still. I still doubted. Louis looked dead serious. "You wanted to know, didn't you? Then you also have to be man enough to accept it." Louis was clearly not joking. Or was he acting again? "Pussy," Louis said. I looked away. "You're afraid of what's inside, huh? You're afraid of the real Louis." He began to laugh manically. "Open that thing, man. Nutcase!"
I started laughing too. Why did I make such a big deal out of it? Sweat broke out from every pore in my body. It was even a bit damp in the no man's land between my scrotum and my anus. A tropical climate. It had been quite an adventure the whole evening. I took my hand off the rear hatch and first gave Louis a hug. Not some half-hearted birthday wish. No, a real hug.
"It's okay, buddy," Louis said to me. I had no idea what he meant by that. It fit the moment though.
It was really time now. I opened the rear hatch.
"Where is it?"
"In front of you," said Louis.
"In some secret compartment?"
There was nothing in the trunk. Absolutely nothing. An empty trunk. For an empty evening, in an empty Berlin, with an empty group of guys. I didn't get it.
"You won, man," I whispered. "You finally fucking done did it."
I couldn't believe my eyes. Empty? There was still nothing in the car. Louis just stood there. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I had felt every emotion this evening. Seen every color and smelled every scent. I was done. My body was ready. No longer needed. My mission was complete.
"But why did you do this?" I asked Louis, laughing.
He scratched his chin. It felt like the end of a bad movie.
"I sold our Playstation. Wanted to tell you only after I had sorted everything out again. I terminated my lease. Had some debts, and I also wanted to have some money for once. Once not empty-handed in the club. Once not dependent on my best friends. This is not who I am... I know how much that Playstation meant to you. It was ours together. I should have just told you."
"… and how does Gurb actually make his money?"

So I’m going to start this off by saying that I really like to give second chances…and third chances…and so on. Me, 19(F), and this girl 19(F), became friends our senior year of high school. We will call her Anna. I noticed at the beginning of our friendship, Anna loved to lie a lot…I mean like saying certain celebrities were her cousins and even going as far as saying she was pregnant constantly and then pretending she never said it when she thinks people forgot about it (which should have been immediate red flags but I just thought she would do better). Fast forward to when Anna invited me to go to church with her. I’m very conflicted in my religion and hadn’t been to church in over 10 years so I was slightly uncomfortable. Anna takes me around to meet all these people and i notice that she is ignoring this older boy and even walking away when he talks to her. My first impression is that he was bothering her so I asked her what was up and she said “oh he likes me but I don’t like him. We text a lot but I just want someone better”. I thought about what she had said and asked her “have you told him you’re not interested?” and she just laughed and changed the conversation. This goes on for 3 more days and I noticed the guy’s attitude started to change. He looked sad every time I saw him, I knew what he was feeling, he felt left out. I told him to come and join us and Anna was not happy with that. I honestly don’t think she liked me talking to him but she would show me all the guys she was talking to when we hung out at her house. I didn’t really like this guy at the time because I was just wanting to be friends…well…fast forward a couple weeks and me and him start hanging out and I noticed that I started getting to know him more and I really enjoyed spending time with him. Every single time I would talk to him when Anna was around, she would try and embarrass me. This went on for another two weeks then we both stopped seeing Anna as much together and would do our own thing. After we started dating for a couple months, I had Anna over at the same time he was over…that was a huge mistake. When I saw her come out of the bathroom with her shirt off and she started dancing in front of my bf I was done. After that, mine and Anna’s relationship never got better. I cut her off for a couple weeks when she reached out and apologized saying “I’m so sorry I didn’t see him in there.” So fast forward to the petty stuff :)) I started talking to her again but I wasn’t going to deal with the disrespect anymore. She told me she made a guy cheat on his gf(19F) and was bragging about it to me. When I had learned the gf’s name, I was furious. I had been friends with the gf since we were kids. I was not going to sit here and laugh about this with her and decided to finally do something. I was texting with the gf for some time before I finally decided that I was going to record one of mine and Anna’s conversations because the gf didn’t believe me. I told the gf to keep quiet about the recording after I sent it because I didn’t really want to deal with that…I wanted to work in the shadows girl. BUT YK DRAMA SPREADS LIKE WILDFIRE. Yes, Anna found out. She immediately called me and was yelling at me asking me stuff like “how could you?” And “that’s gonna hurt (the gf) so much!” Like now she was on the gfs side? No babes…you got caught. After that I just laughed and blocked her. I was done. I left a lot of mine and Anna’s backstory out but take it from me when I say it was horrible. After that, me and the gf became besties and my boyfriend and I are moving into a house!!

Warning: LONG POST (Also, apologies in advance for LDS church jargon and terminology)
I have a unique perspective that I thought maybe some on this sub would find interesting. I am LDS and for those of you who are unfamiliar with the church but are just interested in this case, just know that life as members of our church can be a VERY small world, even across state lines. So I personally knew Julie Rowe when she lived in Arizona, and I now live in Rexburg and my husband and his family are local so I have a LOT of personal connections to Chad and his kids.
That said, here's my experience with these individuals. First- Julie Rowe. I was in her ward in Oro Valley (northern suburb of Tucson) Arizona in 2011 and 2012. She lived in our neighborhood and was my sister's Activity Days leader. I was a senior in high school and babysat her kids 2-3 times. My mom was nice to her because my mom is the sweetest, and felt bad for Julie. One day she asked my mom to go on a walk with her and she did. On that walk, Julie started talking to my mom about her out of body experience and said a few things that made her uncomfortable. My mom distanced herself from Julie pretty immediately. Soon thereafter, Julie was asked by the bishopric to not speak in church, comment in classes, or give prayers anymore because she had begun saying some wacko stuff in testimony meetings and comments in class. Everyone kinda started noticing how weird she was after that. Around that time was the last time I babysat her kids. She dropped them off at my house and when she came to pick them up I DISTINCTLY remember this strange encounter: She was talking to me about college because I had recently gotten accepted to BYU-Idaho and would be moving there in the fall. She went on a rant with my mom, sister, and I telling us how one day we would all need to move to Rexburg because it would be protected. She was talking so crazy and we couldn't get out of the conversation so I called our home phone with my cell phone to have an excuse to make her leave. Shortly after that, her family and her disappeared. Like, overnight they moved and house was empty. Super weird.
Fast forward a few years and I meet my husband who is from the area but also lived in Springville as a kid. Chad is friends with his dad and was in the process of helping him publish a book about mental health when all of this came out. Tammy worked as a librarian in my little brother in law's elementary school. Emma even went on a double date with me and a family friend on the night I got engaged and was literally there, in some of our pictures. When all of this came out, I realized I lived down the street from Lori and their townhouses. Also, Rob Wood was my bishop for about two years before he took the case (and don't quote me, but I believe was released as bishop because of it).
PHEW I know that was a lot. But I just have a lot of strange connections and this case has just hit SO close to home for me. Way too close for comfort. And I have a theory:
My theory is that Julie Rowe and Chad were going to be the "it" couple in Chad's mind originally. I see Chad as a guy who grew up kind of a loser, always wanting attention and the limelight, but being boring and not the greatest looking guy, he ended up with a woman like Tammy who has many amazing qualities but who wasn't necessarily the "beautiful blonde bombshell" type that he saw Lori as. (nothing against Tammy!) He always secretly wanted attention and praise, which is why I think he was so tempted by manipulating other women to get what he wanted. Julie Rowe was perfect for that. Julie already had the theology and following, and Chad was both looking for women to manipulate and had his own religious weirdness as well.
Here's why I think they were flirting with an affair before he met Lori: I was talking to my husband’s family member who knows the Daybells well. We were just casually talking about the story I told above about Julie Rowe. She told me that she and her husband went to a farm of a friend of theirs. When they got there, it was later in the evening and Chad and Julie were alone walking around the farm property very close. They ended up running into each other and having to speak and Chad seemed very uncomfortable (this family member is in Chad’s ward so they knew he was married etc). He introduced the woman as Julie Rowe. They quickly got in Chad’s car and drove away. The family member talked later to the owner of the farm and she said that they had been there for a while just looking at areas to keep animals or whatever. That experience plus the claims Julie made.... yeah... I think Chad was trying to manipulate her in the beginning and it didn't work out. He probably assaulted her which is terrible, but she was putting herself with him alone wayy to much for a married woman and I think she got spooked and distanced herself. Just a theory.
Anyway. I know this was extremely long. I just had to dump all of this somewhere and this was the right audience!! I have so many more thoughts on this case that I'd love to discuss too, and I have even more connections to this case than I have shared here but out of concern for privacy I omitted them. Please feel free to ask any questions.

Current:
Patrick Weekes, Lead Writer: Writers Mass Effect: They wrote several side quests, including Citadel: Family Matter and Presidium Prophet.
Additional Design Dragon Age: Origins
Writers Mass Effect 2 and Writers and Manager on Lair of the Shadow Broker: They co-wrote Miranda, and I believe also Garrus, co-wrote Liara during LOTSB. They wrote Tali, paraphrased Thane's romance dialogue, and contributed writing to other characters. They also contributed to the ending content for the game.
Senior Writer Mass Effect 3: Alongside John Dombrow, they assisted Lead Writer Mac Walters in managing the rest of the writing team. They co-wrote From Ashes and served as Senior Writer for Leviathan. They were also the Senior Writer Manager, working with John Dombrow as a co-lead (Basically) on Citadel. They wrote Kasumi, Tali, Mordin, Jack, Traynor, Joker, and Jondum Bau, and co-wrote Legion. Additionally, They wrote Liara's conversation with Matriarch Aethyta and Priority Eden Prime. They co-wrote Priority: Tuchanka and wrote Priority: Rannoch.
Senior Writer Inquisition, Lead Writer Jaws of Hakkon, Consultant The Descent, Lead Writer Trespasser: They wrote The Bull's Chargers, Cole, Krem, The Iron Bull, Solas, and Svarah Sun Hair. They also wrote the majority of Here Lies the Abyss.
Lead Writer Canceled Project Joplin DA4
Dragon Age Finaling Team Mass Effect Andromeda: Wrote several note texts.
Short stories: Dragon Slayers, Glass Beads, I Am Looking for a Book..., Why the Elders Bare Their Throats, When She Grows a Soul, Injure the Corners, Release the Knot, Shepard Off-Duty and Unleashing the Flyers of L
Comics: They co-wrote the story for Mass Effect Homeworlds #2 with Mac Walters.
Books: They are the writer of the Rogues of the Republic Trilogy, which consists of The Palace Job, The Prophecy Con, and The Paladin Caper. They also wrote Dragon Age: The Masked Empire and contributed to The World of Thedas Volume 2. Additionally, they served as both writer and editor for Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, writing Three Trees to Midnight and The Dread Wolf Take You. They also wrote the novel Feeder.
John Epler, Franchise Creative Director since January 2022, formerly Narrative director until December 2021:
Prior to joining Bioware, he spent several years volunteering for various fan sites and dabbling in the modding community for various games.
QA Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood
Term Testers Dragon Age: Origins and Cinematic Designers for Witch Hunt
QA Story Team Mass Effect 2, additional QA on Normandy Crash Site, Zaeed - The Price of Revenge, Firewalker Pack, Kasumi - Stolen Memory, and Overlord.
Cinematic Designers Dragon Age II, Cinematic Designer The Exiled Prince, Cinematic Designers on Legacy and Mark of the Assassin
Cinematic Designers Dragon Age: Inquisition, Lead Cinematic Designer on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Working with the animation team, he worked to remove the race-gating on Iron Bull's romance
Dragon Age Finaling Team Mass Effect Andromeda
Animation Systems Designers/Storyboard Supervisor for Anthem
Executive Producers Dragon Age: Absolution
Books: Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote The Horror of Hormak and Half Up Front
Sylvia Feketekuty, Senior Writer:
Writers Lair of the Shadow Broker: Wrote Feron and Glyph, wrote Liara from the beginning of the DLC until the scene after the defeat of the Shadow Broker, and wrote a few lines of her dialogue after that.
Writers Mass Effect 3, also the Resurgence, Rebellion, Earth, Retaliation, and Reckoning Multiplayer Expansions: Wrote Glyph, Liara, and Samara. Also, she wrote the final version of Kallini: Ardat-Yakshi Monastery, wrote Rannoch: Admiral Koris and Geth Fighter squadrons, contributed to much of the content on the Citadel, including various quests, the refund guy, and various other background material. she also co-wrote Legion.
Writers Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Wrote Josephine, Champions of the Just, and the final versions of Before the Dawn and Under Her Skin.
Writers/Narrative Designers Anthem
Short Stories: The Flame Eternal
Comics: She co-wrote the story for Mass Effect Homeworlds #4 with Mac Walters.
Books: Writers The World of Thedas Volume 1-2, Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote Down Among the Dead Men and Luck in the Gardens
Sheryl Chee, Senior Writer:
Writers Dragon Age: Origins, also co-writer for The Stone Prisoner, Return to Ostagar, and Awakening, and the writer of Golems of Amgarrak. Writers Witch Hunt, Wrote Cullen, Dog, Leliana and Wynne, as well as Oghren, Sigrun, and Velanna during Awakening. Also wrote the Magi Origin, Broken Circle, and the Urn of Sacred Ashes.
Writers Dragon Age II, also on Legacy and Mark of the Assassin: Wrote Isabela and All That Remains
Writers Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser and writer for the Multiplayer: Wrote Blackwall, Leliana and the multiplayer characters
Writers Mass Effect Andromeda: Wrote Vetra and Suvi
Writers/Narrative Designers Anthem: Wrote Mathias
Short Stories: Isabela, Minrathous Shadows
Books: Writers The World of Thedas Volume 1-2
Brianne Battye, Senior Writer:
Assistant Writer Leviathan credited as Additional Design
Writers Citadel
Writers Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Wrote Cullen
Writers/Narrative Designers Anthem
Short Stories: The Next One, Won't Know When and Each Minute Closer
Books: Writers The World of Thedas Volume 2, Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote Hunger and The Streets of Minrathous, and the writer of wholehearted (poetry collection)
Poems: Short Poems
Former:
Lukas Kristjanson, Senior Writer until September 2023 laid off:
Lead Writer Baldur's Gate and the Tales of the Sword Coast expansion: Wrote Minsc, Jaheira, much of the main story and main campaign, and many of the side quests Also contributed manual editing and compilation.
Writers MDK 2
Designers and core design team for Baldur's Gate II: Shadows of Amn and additional design on Throne of Bhaal: Wrote Jon Irenicus and also contributed manual writing/editing.
Designers, Core Design Team, Manual Writers and additional programming on Neverwinter Nights
Designers Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic: Wrote parts of Taris, Manaan, and Korriban, much of Tatooine and Kashyyyk, and also contributed manual writing.
Lead Writer, later Co-Lead on Jade Empire.
Writers Mass Effect: Wrote Kaidan and Joker, co-wrote Kirrahe, wrote Feros, and co-wrote Virmire.
Writers Dragon Age: Origins, and the Writer of Leliana's Song: Co-wrote A Paragon of Her Kind
Writers Mass Effect 2: Wrote Jacob and Joker, contributed writing to other characters, wrote Joker's Mission on the Normandy, contributed to the game's ending, and advised Dusty Everman in the writing of the non-companion NPCs on the Normandy.
Writers Dragon Age II, also on Legacy and Mark of the Assassin: Wrote Arishok, Aveline and Carver
Senior Writer Dragon Age: Inquisition: Wrote Sera, In Your Heart, and several codex entries.
Writers Mass Effect: Andromeda: Wrote Liam
Comics: Co-wrote the Baldur's Gate promotional comic.
Short Stories: Aveline and As We Fly
Books: Writers The World of Thedas Volume 1-2, Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote Callback and Genitivi Dies in the End
John Dombrow, Senior Writer left in August of 2023:
Writer Universe at War: Earth Assault
Petroglyoph Studio staff on Panzer General: Allied Assault
Writer Overlord
Senior Writer Mass Effect 3: Alongside Patrick Weekes, he assisted Lead Writer Mac Walters in managing the rest of the writing team. He co-wrote From Ashes and served as Supervising Writer for Leviathan. He were also the Senior Writer Manager, working with Patrick Weekes a co-lead (Basically) on Citadel. He wrote Wrex, Garrus, Javik, Padok Wiks, Wreav, Eve, and Victus. He also wrote Liara during From Ashes and contributed writing to Kai Leng and The Illusive Man. He wrote Priority: Sur'Kesh, co-wrote Priority Tuchanka, and wrote Priority Thessia. Additionally, he developed the initial Grissom Academy mission and wrote the first draft. He also edited Garrus and Javik.
Senior Writer Bioshock Infinite: Burial at Sea
Writer Telltale's Game of Thrones Episode 3 and additional writing on two of the other episodes
Writer and associate producer Mytheon
Writers and later co-lead for Mass Effect: Andromeda following the departure of original lead writer Chris Schlerf: Wrote Prologue Hyperion, Planetside, and the Salarian Ark Mission.
Senior WriteNarrative Designer Anthem
Short stories: Ruins of Reality
Comics: He co-wrote the story for Mass Effect Homeworlds #3 with Mac Walters and the story for Mass Effect Discovery
Books: Oversaw the development of the Andromeda novels.
Films: Production Assistant Sliver, Writer Control Factor, Screenwriter Deadly Swarm
Writer and developer The Sixth Extinction (Unproduced
Writer original screenplay The Hills Run Red
Films: Production Assistant Sliver, Writer Control Factor, co-screenwriter Deadly Swarm. Also, writer and developer The Sixth Extinction (Unproduced). Additionally, wrote the original screenplay for The Hills Run Red.
Left to go join Sucker Punch Productions as a Senior Writer
Mary Kirby, Senior Writer until September 2023 laid off:
Writers Dragon Age: Origins: Wrote Cauthrien, Sten, Loghain, much of the Qunari lore and the Chant of Light, and most of the Landsmeet.
Writers Dragon Age II, also on Legacy and Mark of the Assassin: Wrote Merrill and Varric
Writers Star Wars: The Old Republic: Wrote the companion conversations for Fideltin Rusk
Writers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Wrote Varric, Vivienne, and In Hushed Whispers
Writers/Narrative Designers Anthem: Wrote Max
Short Stories: Merrill, Varric and The Wake
Books: Writers and editors The World of Thedas Volume 1, writers Volume 2, Writer for Dragon Age: Hard in Hightown
Courtney Woods, Writer left in February of 2020:
Prior to joining Bioware, she worked as an Editorial Intern at DC Comics for 3 months and as a Contributing Writer at Newsarama where She specialized in video game journalism, including previewing and reviewing video games and related projects. She provided written and photographic coverage of pop culture conventions such as Star Wars Celebration V, New York Comic-Con 2010, and E3 2011
Community Coordinators Star Wars: The Old Republic also on the Rise of the Hutt Cartel and Galactic Starfighter expansions. Lead Community Coordinator on Galactic Strongholds and Shadow of Revan. Writers on Knights of the Fallen Empire
Co-writer The Descent
Writers Mass Effect: Andromeda: Wrote Lexi, Reyes and much of Kadara
Senior WriteNarrative Designer Anthem
Books: Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote The Wigmaker Job and Eight Little Talons. She also contributed to the Development of the Mass Effect Andromeda: Nexus Uprising Novel
Left to work on the Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic as the Lead writer left in September of 2022
Currently a Senior Writer as Sucker Punch Productions
Arone Le Bray, Narrative Quality DesigneAnalyst left in April of 2021:
Contact Testers Jade Empire: Special Edition
QA Term Testers Mass Effect
QA Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood
QA Analysts Dragon Age: Origins
QA Story Team Lead Mass Effect 2, additional QA on Normandy Crash Site, QA Zaeed - The Price of Revenge, additional QA Firewalker Pack, QA Kasumi - Stolen Memory, and Lair of the Shadow Broker.
Additional QA Star Wars: The Old Republic
Content Analysts Mass Effect 3
Analysts Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser
Analysts Mass Effect: Andromeda
Analysts Anthem
Books: Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote An Old Crow's Old Tricks
Theatre: Founders Basic Acid Theatre company. Director and an Actor in Finer Noble Gases, Writer and Director of Occupied.
Left to join THE CHINESE ROOM LTD as a Narrative Designer on Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines 2. Currently serving as a Principal Narrative Designer on the game.
FormeUnknown:
Alexis Kennedy, Freelance Writer:
Founder and former CEO Failbetter Games Left in August of 2016
Original developer and lead writer Fallen London
Creative Director Tales of Fallen London: The Silver Tree
Creative Director Machine Cares!
Creative Director Dragon Age: The Last Court
Creative director, lead writer and Designers Sunless Sea
Co-founder Weather Factory
Writer and Designers Stellaris: Horizon Signal
Writer, designer, and coders for Cultist Simulator and its DLC."
Initial Concept Sunless Skies
Writer and Designer Book of Hours
He also worked on an unspecified research and development project with Telltale Games
In August 2019, he was accused of harassment by Meg Jayanth and Olivia Wood, a writer at Failbetter. Bioware has cut all ties with him.
Unknown
Ben Gelinas, Consultant:
Prior to joining Bioware, he worked as a staff writer for Guelph Mercury, Multimedia Reporter for The Waterloo Region Record, Crime Writer, and later Arts Writer for the Edmonton Journal, and as a Freelance Journalist.
Writing Special Thanks Mark of the Assassin
Editors and Additional Design for Mass Effect 3 and From Ashes. Editors on Leviathan and Citadel. He collaborated with the programmers to design the games Kinect voice command system
Editors Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Product owner for the game journal
Editors on Star Wars: The Old Republic: Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne
Editors and Writers Mass Effect: Andromeda: Some writing for Drack and additional story content.
Founder Copychaser Games Inc.
Writer and Designer Speed Dating For Ghosts
Game Design Instructor Sheridan College Jan 2018 - Apr 2018
Narrative Designers Control, Co-writer Control Expansion 1 - The Foundation."
Writers Gotham Knights
Writer and Designer Times and Galaxy
He is also working on a game about sleep paralysis
Books: Lead Writer and co-project Lead The World of Thedas Volumes 1-2, contributed an essay to Shy: An Anthology, Writer The Art of Dragon Age: Inquisition, worked on the English language version of The Legend of Zelda Encyclopedia, and wrote BioWare: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development. He also contributed to the Development of the Mass Effect Andromeda: Nexus Uprising Novel

The young striker started her first professional contract with the club in July 2021. Aggie Beever-Jones put pen-to-paper on a two year deal. A rising player of the Chelsea Academy, Beever-Jones made her senior debut for the Blues in a 4-0 away win against Aston Villa in the 2020/21 campaign. In the same season, Beever-Jones was handed her first start for Chelsea in a 5-0 victory over London City Lionesses in a Women’s FA Cup fourth-round tie.
The young 18 year old striker spent the 2021/22 season on loan at Championship side Bristol City, where she succour the team to a third-place finish in the second tier. Beever-Jones later then joined the Women's Super League team Everton, on a loan in August 2022. In which during that time there she made 21 appearances and scored one goal. With Everton placing 10th that season.
Beever-Jones scored her first senior Chelsea goal in the 2023/24 season coming on as a substitute in a home win over Brighton. The 20 year old star has scored a total of 11 goals for the Blues.
At the end of 2023 year, she signed a new contract with the Blues until the summer of 2026, with an option to extend and stay for a further year with Chelsea.
Aggie Beever-Jones has made 16 appearances for the blues with a total of 649 minute playing time. She has currently made 6 starts for the Blues. On the 31st January, Beever-Jones made her first debut start in the Champion League against Paris Football Club. Helping to secure an important 4-0 win.
The exciting announcement was made on the 14th May that Aggie Beaver-Jones ha gotten her first senior call up to be involved with the Lionesses. Emma Hayes the Chelsea Manager exclaimed in the press conference the night before playing in critical game against Tottenham saying: "I’m proud that a club like ours wants to develop players. She's been with us since she was eight, she been on a journey and gone on loan to different clubs. Now she has come back here and the effort she put in for the shirt in that Bristol game was unbelievable. She set the tone for the team from the front and it is no more than she deserves. She's in this position on merit. She's in the squad here at Chelsea with world-class players and she's competing week in week out. She's a really warm character, really likeable, but she's really resilient. She's always asking what she needs to do to get better but she has the goal threat. You can't teach that. She's got a goal threat anywhere around the box, whether she plays at the sides or down the middle. I spoke to her this morning and I don't think she can quite believe it. She's chuffed and so are we because there's nothing better than one of your own making it."
Beever Jones will be part of Sarina Wingman's senior squad for the upcoming Euro 2025 qualifying double header against France at Newcastle on the 31st May and once more at Saint-Etienne on the 4th June.

Hey, so you ever get a birthday present that's so not your style, but you really can't return it because it'd be really awkward? Normally it's like, I dunno. Shoes, or shirts or something like that, right?
For me it was four fire-breathing horses.
Okay, so I should clarify. My dad didn't really give me four fire-breathing ponies to keep. It was more of a test for him to treat me like his son again.
See, I just recently got out of a Styx oath that would have led me to eternal damnation if I didn't fulfill it. It's a long story, but to keep it short: I swore an oath on the Styx to be a brave hero by my eighteenth birthday when I really should have just pinkie promised. But yeah. My dad, God of War and dad of the year took it well. …In that he pretty much said that I was a waste of space, disowned me and he'd personally hand me over to the Styx for eternal damnation.
Nice guy. Really should get into motivational speeches.
The night before, after riding the high of not having the threat of being sent to Super Hell I had a pretty bad dream. I mean, it wasn’t the normal David nightmare. It wasn't me killing endless hordes of monsters while my dad laughed at how pathetic I was.
Well, half of that. It was just my dad. To be honest, rather I’d take the monsters.
He was laughing at me, with that smug face of his, in that all-leather biker outfit with the shades that made him look even more like an asshole, as if that's hard to believe.
Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to cuss. Anyways yeah. Me and my dad. Not the best relationship, even by demigod standards.
He gave me a toothy grin, like a shark’s as he circled around me. I instinctively stood up straight, at attention. As much as I hate my dad, ticking off a god is a pretty dumb thing to do. Plus, I was pretty dumbfounded to see him here in my dream of all things.
“Well, color me surprised. To be honest, boy, I thought I'd end up taking care of this myself. So, congratulations on that front. But, sorry to burst your bubble, it might be good enough for ol’ Styxy but…it’s not good enough for me. But, you know, I'm a generous guy! Prove me you're a warrior. Do that, and I'll welcome you back in the family with open arms. I even got the perfect way for you to prove yourself.”
Without warning, he tossed me a set of keys with a miniature boar-headed keychain and a really big switchblade on the end of it. I fumbled with it before slipping it into my pocket.
“An oldie but a goodie. Used to let my sons prove themselves to me all the time with this one. Now, I'm sure once you see what I got planned you'll know the rules, considering you're a fuckin’ nerd. But in case you forget…”
He lowered his shades, revealing balls of fire as he glared right at me.
“Sundown. My temple. Don't be late or I'll toss you in the Styx myself. Well! Have fun, yeah? I'm looking forward to watching you fail this one, like your last quest. Now, get up. Clock’s ticking after all…”
“Gaah!”
I snapped my eyes open, falling out of my bed and onto the hard floor under me. As soon as I hit the floor, I could hear one of my many siblings start to stir from their sleep. Immediately, my sister Tiffany started to sigh as she shot up from her bed. I could see her pastel pink sleep mask perched on her head as she glared into the darkness of the early morning. She groaned in frustration, her words cutting through the quiet of the dawn.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?"
To be fair, I could see why she’d think that. Most of my siblings were fond of pranking each other every now and then. The chaos of the Ares cabin was unmatched from most cabins, except maybe Hermes. But, when you cut off her beauty sleep, the threat of an angry Tiff was usually was enough to make nighttime a truce. Usually.
My sister rubbed her eyes and looked down at me. I sheepishly gave a smile as I rubbed my head, still sore from when it hit the floor.
"Seriously, David?"
Tiffany got out of bed and silently made her way to me. She wordlessly held out a hand and I grasped at it as she pulled me up.
"Thanks Tiff. I had this dream, where Dad called me a nerd and was talking to me about testing me now that my Styx Oath is..."
I felt something hard and metallic poke against my leg, from my sweats pocket. I pulled out the unfamiliar object and to my surprise, there were the same keys from my dream. My eyes widened as I realized that my dream was a little bit more than usual demigod stuff.
"Oh. That...wasn't a dream."
She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the keys that sat in my hand. I played with the accessories, absentmindedly feeling the boar head and the switchblade knife. She leaned in, peering at the keys as the dawn started to rise.
"What the hell are those for?"
She looked to the keys, then back at my face, and then the keys again. She looked at me as if I just said that Kronos was about to come back and throw an ice cream party courtesy of the Titans.
"You're telling me Dad gave those to you or something? You're joking. Have to be."
I shook my head, but I could see why she thought so. I was pretty sure I was near the bottom, if not at the bottom of his list of favorite kids. If I was being honest, I was pretty sure he wanted me dead more than a few times.
"Tiff, you know that I'm not exactly Dad's favorite by a long shot. Why would I say something like that and risk him getting even mad more mad at me because of my lying? Dad disowned me, remember? He mentioned something along the line in my dream that if I pass his test I'd be treated as one of his sons again but he didn't mention what it..."
The gears started turning as I looked at the keys in my hands.
”A test…keys…sundown…oh no. Oh, no.”
I immediately pocketed up my keys and started putting on my shoes. No time for pants, sweats would do just fine, I just had to make sure to take my wallet with me, considering I was going to New York now. I had to be quick or this test was over before it even started.
"No. I...I think I know what it is. But if I'm right, then shoot I gotta get going then! Before our brothers take it."
In hindsight, I probably should have told Tiff a bit about my thoughts. But, the more I delayed the more issues that could have cropped up. I just had to make sure it was safe.
"Take what? Where the hell are you going?!"
I burst out of the cabin, staring at what was in front of our cabin. I felt a bit of nervousness bubble up as my thoughts were proven true. Tiffany was close behind me as she walked outside our cabin. I looked at her face and caught an expression of wonder as whatever she was going to ask me was forgotten. Parked in front of the cabin was a red and gold Harley. The seat was white leather and gave a sorta…humany vibe to it that I did not wanna think about. Only one thing came to mind, something I knew instinctively from the moment I saw it. Dad's War Chariot.
Or as the god of war would call it, his chariot.
"I...I think dad wants me to take his ride for a spin."
I ran my hand over the cold metal, and I realized what Dad meant about the “oldie but a goodie.” A while back, before the Second Titan war ended, and all of the children of the gods had to be claimed, there was a ritual all sons of Ares went through. It was something all my brothers did at fifteen. Drive around his Chariot and return it before sundown. It wasn't easy, my Godly siblings, Phobos and Deimos both loved to mess with whoever was in charge of the chariot at the time. And you had to deal with monsters too, but overall when it came to demigod stuff it wasn’t the most dangerous around. I dunno if that says a lot about how dangerous this life can get though.
But, shortly after the then-counselor Clarisse La Rue became the first girl to do it, Dad pulled the plug. I dunno if it was good ol’ sexism, someone totaling it, or dad not wanting to let all of his kids drive his ride, either way it wasn't super common nowadays. It wasn't like he stopped, but it was something given, not a right. Dad letting me do this was him at least giving me a chance to prove myself to be one of his kids, which was more than I expected to be honest.
I took a breath as I looked at Dad’s ride, feeling a pit of unease in my stomach as I started to climb in. If it wouldn't end up with me being tormented for the rest of my short life, I'd tell him no and go back to sleep. But, telling a god no, especially my dad is a neat way to be turned into a rodent. Or a fine red paste. Or a rodent that would be turned into said paste.
Tiffany's brows furrowed as she processed my words, a layer of disbelief on her face as she chewed over it.
You? He wants you to drive it? I...that...what the hell?"
I fought off a wince as she looked at me, then the ride, then back at me again. I could tell she was a bit annoyed. I mean, yeah from her perspective I was singled out by dad to do something she probably wanted to do for a while. I felt a pit of guilt in my stomach, it wasn't fair, really. But at the same time I had to do this.
"I mean, seriously? He must be out-"
She cut herself off. Calling my dad crazy was another way to get turned into a rat that would then be turned into a fine paste. Actually a lot of things carried the threat, my dad is kinda a jerk. I sighed, figuring I might as well tell her about why Dad was doing this. I didn't wanna hide it, but it's not like I like to talk about the fact that I've been disowned for two years. She knew, most of us did. But it's not something I like bringing up, because yeah. It sucks.
"I read a bit about previous Ares campers. He used to do this more often, at first only his sons did, but later his daughters could. I dunno why he stopped but, this isn't really like he's doing it because he's proud of me. I'm sorta disowned, remember? He said if I can drive the chariot, he'll take me back as one of you guys again. It's...more of a test to earn myself back into his good graces, I think.”
Tiffany listened to my explanation, not saying anything for a bit She looked a bit bothered about the fact that I was chosen to drive the Chariot, which again, not surprising.
"Ugh, I guess that makes sense."
I could hear the frustration in her voice as she crossed her arms. I winced again, preparing for her to resent or hate me. But to my surprise, I heard her add more in a softer voice.
"Well, don't get yourself killed trying to pass this stupid test, I don't want to have to explain to everyone why you're not coming back."
Her icy tone defrosted as she looked back at me with a bit of concern in her eyes. She seemed less annoyed and more worried about me, which was sweet. Not that I'd let her hear that. I hoped that maybe, dad would let her give it for a spin later down the road. If anyone deserved it, it would be her. I gave a nervous laugh as I took the keys out of my pocket.
"Of course, I passed my Styx Oath, didn't I? It'd be really dumb of me to die right after barely avoiding that, right? Oh, yeah. If Ellie asks for me, tell her about dad's little test he has for me. Hopefully it won't be too long but you know how it is with godly stuff. I should be back in time for us to hang out for the rest of my birthday once I do this for dad. I'll bring back something cool!”
I felt my trepidation fade away as I prepared to drive. Lots of my siblings dreamed of piloting the chariot. It wouldn't be right to reject the opportunity when it was given to me. And, who knows? Getting back in Dad's good graces (or as much as one can get in them) might help me out. At least I would have one less target on my back. As I sat down in the white leather seat, I put the keys in the ignition and instantly it began to morph.
OOC:Read this while listening to whats coming up
The front split apart into one steel horse that slowly split into two, and then four cream-colored horses that looked around with a cruel intelligence. The seat dipped, and warped before it became a horse-drawn chariot I was now standing in. The chariot was gold and blood red, adorned with the lovely images of people dying gruesome deaths, because Dad's taste in decor is somewhere between military surplus and serial killer, apparently.
“Okay…so, I need to get to Dad's temple before sundown. I don't know New York highways though, so how can I…oh hey! A gps!”
My fingers brushed against a touch screen set up on the chariot and punched The Intrepid into the coordinates. I gave one last wave to my sister before I lashed the horses and they immediately took off. I led them out of camp easily enough, but as we reached the highway they sped up to an impossible speed for a chariot. Their speed was even faster than any cars on the highway, rivaling the time that Aphrodite camper drove us to the beach once. I pulled back on the reins, trying to get them to slow down. Instead, they gave a rebellious snort and went even faster.
I would like to say that I embraced my inner Ares kid and relished the challenge. But I'm not going to lie, when you end up going past 80 MPH in a chariot, you tend to think you're going to die, fun fact. I screamed for most of the way, yanking and pulling at their reins so we could bob and weave through traffic.
It's a bit of a drive from Camp Half-Blood to New York City, I know it well, it’s a pretty common place for me to go for some monster slaying. But, up until now, I've been in the passenger seat while Argus drives. The speed of the horses really made the time go by faster. As we entered the city, the horses started to slow down and I felt a ray of hope as I started to steer them through the city. I gave a triumphant laugh as I looked down at my ETA. It was surprisingly quick, considering how congested New York can get. And I didn't see hide or hair of either one of my godly brothers, so I felt pretty good, all things considered.
“Huh. That's weird. There's not many cars today…my luck must be turning around!”
“Traffic update: Incoming Monsters. Rerouting. Cannot reroute.”
“Huh?”
Immediately, a massive boar the size of a garbage truck burst from a nearby alley way behind me. Behind the massive pig, two armored bank cars recklessly merged into traffic. One leaned out, revealing a gray-skinned human in body armor brandishing a shotgun.
“Of course! I had to open my big mouth! Is there anything that I’m going to have to deal with?”
“You are on the fastest route!”
“Well that’s just GREAT! Now I can be on the quickest way to the underworld!”
”Rerouting to: D.O.A. Records, Los Angeles.”
“Woah, woah, woah, no! Keep me on The Intrepid! The Intrepid!”
Seeing all these enemies together though, I started to put a thought in my head. They all had something in common, now that I saw them all in front of me. A boar was sacred to Ares, Spartoi too came from a dragon sacred to him. I put the pieces together as I saw the monsters come out of the woodwork and all to me. Now things made sense. The lack of Phobos and Deimos, the sacred beings to Ares, the lack of mortals on the street.
I didn't see my siblings because Dad wanted to mess with me personally.
Even now, I don't know if he wanted to test me in a Spartan way, or if he just wanted to get rid of me without kinslaying. Either way, I couldn't back down now. Not when I was so close. I snapped on the reins and the rebellious horses continued on their path, bickering and weaving left and right as they snorted and whinnied.
I heard the wiz of something traveling through the air and quickly moved out of the way. A metal feather hit the chariot, bouncing off the hull and onto the ground. I looked up and saw a few birds. They were black and crow-like, but their feathers had a metallic sheen, like iron. Their wings flapped and I heard the sound of metal on metal as they soared above me.
“Dad called in feather-shooters too? Come on!”
I steered left and right as I evaded the metal feathers shooting at me. The newcomers behind me quickly gained as I bobbed and weaved. I had to figure a way out of this, and fast. Problem was, I was quickly outnumbered and outmatched. I wasn't the best at archery, and my sword could shoot a blast of force, courtesy of the then Forgemaster. Main issue was it took a bit to charge, and I couldn't take them on so high up.
I couldn't run. I needed to fight out of this. But even if I could fight the two Spartoi and the big pig, the problem was the birds. I didn't have a ranged option…or did I? I looked to the horses, breathing embers as they huffed and pulled the chariot further on. Ares kids couldn't talk to horses, but these were godly horses. They seemed smarter than your average horse. Maybe I could talk them into behaving, the same way I got some of my siblings to listen to the plan during Capture the Flag.
“Hey guys, are you bored? I'm sure Dad and my brothers take all the good fights, huh? You know, if you guys continue fighting each other, I might lose this and you guys will miss out on a good fight.”
At first, I thought it fell on deaf ears. But then, they stopped their jostling and started to take a more unified path as we raced along the streets. Like I thought, they enjoyed a good fight as much as their owner did.
“That's what I like to see. Look, we're pretty surrounded right now. What do you say we rampage a bit before I take you guys home?”
An evil-sounding whinny came from the horses. I couldn’t really speak horse, but I took that as an okay and pointed at the birds above us. Did I feel stupid? Kinda. But as long as it worked, I couldn’t complain.
“See them? All yours. I'll cover you guys from the ground forces, and in exchange, you guys fall in line. Alright?”
A burst of fire came from one of the horses in response and I heard a loud squawk as it engulfed one of the feather-shooters. I breathed a sigh in relief as the rest of the birds started to scatter. They veered left and right in an attempt to avoid the flaming streams that were now sporadically being fired in their direction.
“Alright! Good job, I'll leave it to you!”
I gave a smile as I turned behind to my land-based foes, quickly gaining on me. I could hear the occasional woosh of fire as the horses fought the birds. One of the armored trucks caught up to my right and one of the spartoi leaned out of the vehicle. They aimed down the sights and pointed their shotgun at me.
“Sudden traffic in your area. You will be delayed by…five minutes. You are still on the fastest route!”
“Woah, that’s not fair! Come on Dad! A gun? Really!?”
I felt a tug in my stomach. It wasn’t something I could do a lot in a row without being exhausted, but I had some sorta pull when it came to weapons. When I gave a command, they were able to fall right out of their owner’s hands.
“Alright, let’s even the playerfield shall we?”
I held out my hand and they dropped it, the gun fell onto the ground, crushed by the wheels of the car. The second caught up to my left and once again, a spartoi leaned out of their car, weapon in hand.
“Another one!? Come on! How am I going to…”
I was jerked to the side as the horses suddenly veered right. At first, I thought it was the horses misbehaving again, but then a monstrous squeal came from behind me, rushing forwards.
Crash
I heard the sound of steel groaning as the boar rushed past the truck, pushing their truck out of the way as they aggressively charged forward. It was a good thing I managed to get out of the way, or else I would have been in trouble. I could see the spartoi shaking their fist as they spun out, their car massively dented with a massive gash in the armor. Now that I had to deal with two enemies, I decided to use the boar’s momentum to my advantage. I pulled back on the reins and the boar kept barreling on, too fast to stop as I made the chariot suddenly stop and then take a sudden turn away from the temple. The boar ran straight into a brick wall, seemingly dazed but otherwise okay.
”Rerouting...”
That temporarily took care of two of my enemies. Now that I had one to worry about, and my horses were pretty steady, I could start this fight in earnest. I kept one hand on the reins as I grabbed my Miku keychain. I unclipped it, and the keychain turned into a katana, with said keychain still on the bottom. It was my sword, Anime (I want to clarify, my friend Jules named it, not me). One of the Spartoi readied a spear and lunged at me. I parried it with my blade, and stabbed at their chest. I felt my blade plunge into their body. I pulled away at it, slashing at it again to tear it apart. To my disappointment though, the monster quickly reformed.
I don't know what I expected, to be honest. They wouldn't be much of an immortal soldier if they died after the first hit. But it bought me valuable time as we pushed forward. Almost as soon as its bones knit back together, it struck at me. I guarded once again, my sword starting to glow brighter and brighter with each strike. Our blades clashed and separated again and again for, I don’t know how long to be honest. I was putting up a good fight, but I just couldn’t gain the upperhand in that fight. For starters, if it was a monster or even a demigod it’d be ten ways to Tartarus at the moment. But, no matter how I sliced or diced it, the immortal soldier kept on coming back. Also, I just wasn't used to multitasking like that, I held on as tightly as I could, but the brief times I practiced Chariot combat with my friends Jules and Cel, I was either driving or fighting. Both at the same time was hard, and I was lucky that the horses were so cooperative.
I heard the whinny of one of the horses ahead as I looked back to the front. No sign of the birds meant that there was a few extra-crispy feather-shooters along the road somewhere, which was good news. But then, I looked out in front and realized that there was a big problem. One of the trucks we left behind somehow got in front of us, blocking the road with their car. Five spartoi were standing outside of the car, swords and spears drawn as they headed the chariot off.
At this moment, I knew I was screwed. I was too fast to just stop. And, even if I did stop, I’d have to deal with all the angry skeleton men chasing me down. I just winced, bracing for impact. But then, I heard a neigh as the horses pulling my chariot started to turn into steel and combined once more. The chariot started to shift, the creak of metal folding and turning. I quickly sheathed my sword as the reins turned into chrome handlebars which I gripped like my life depended on it. The chariot continued to morph until once again it was a motorcycle with flame patterns. I veered as left as I could, narrowly avoiding hitting the side of a nearby building as I sped past the skeletal blockade. I braked, motorcycle now turning back into the chariot form as I turned back and watched as the car that was chasing me slammed straight into the other.
The now pissed spartoi stumbled out of the wreckage and started to scream undead obscenities to each other. I couldn’t speak ghost, but whatever they said seemed to be pretty rude, because both sides started to unsheath their swords and get into an all-out brawl. One of the spartoi sliced the other in two, and they didn’t reform this time as their essence slid into their black sword.
Huh. Well, that was one way to deal with them.
“Whew! Good horses.”
I turned, ready to snap the reins once again, but I stopped as I saw what was waiting for me at the other end of the road. The boar, still very much on my trail stood in front of me. It pawed at the ground in front of it, and my horses started to do the same. I stared at the boar, unsheathing Anime once again as we stared off.
“Keep straight for…500 feet.”
The thing about boars is that they can be pretty deadly. They’re brutish and aggressive, and they go down fighting. You know the crossguard that’s near the pointy end of a spear? That’s so the animal doesn’t run up the spear to take you out with it. You don’t think them being that dangerous, but there’s a reason that dad’s symbol is a boar.
I had to make this quick, and efficient or I’d end up maimed, or worse. I snapped the reins one more time, and the horses started to dash down the street. The boar squealed as it barreled to me. I could see it get closer and closer. I grit my teeth, holding my blade in my right hand as it started to shine more and more brightly. My hand held onto the grip tightly, bracing for my next action.
I’d have one shot at this.
I miss, I’m dead.
I hesitate, I’m dead.
I don’t hit the vitals, I’m dead.
Time started to slow around me as I watched the boar rush at the chariot, enraged as it reached the point where there was no stopping it now. I could see the powerful muscles push and pull, the beast using all its power in an attempt to off me for good. I felt heat coming from the front as all four horses breathed a stream of flames at the swine. The boar kept on charging forwards, through the fire as the flames engulfed it. An angry squeal erupted from the inferno as it lept up from the sea of flames, still on fire as it used its strong legs to clear the horses and go straight for me.
Breathe in
I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I pulled my sword hand back. My blade shined brilliantly, even in the May sun. I watched it fall ever closer to me, the flames still eating away at the flesh. I stared into its ever-angry eyes, burning brighter than the flames surrounding it. I don’t falter. I’ve faced monsters that have crushed my bones. I don’t feel fear. I’ve fought creatures that could have killed me in five seconds. This is it. I need it to be perfect.
Breathe out.
SHING
I swung my blade and a rush of air followed it, making an arc that flew to the boar. I don’t doubt my skills. I simply watch, confident that this will end the monster once and for all. The blast, charged from my fight flew unimpeded. The beast’s chuffs turned into surprised squeal as it sliced the boar cleanly in two, bisecting it from the snout down. I sheathed my sword and put both hands back on the reins, eyes on the road as I barely watched what came next. The flaming boar started to fade into dust, still falling through the air until only a tusk was left. I held out my arm and caught it with my right hand.
“Oh hot, hot!”
I juggled it a bit with one hand before placing it down on the chariot floor. I grinned triumphantly as I realized what happened. Dad tried to test me, to see if I was “worthy” or he genuinely tried to kill me. Either way, I beat him this time, proving to him that I was more. That he underestimated me when we first met, that I was a brave warrior all along. In the end, I proved to him that I could fulfill my Styx oath even past what was expected of me. I laughed as I sped up, I felt pretty good about my victory. I wondered how his face would look, or if I could read his expression past his dumb sunglasses.
But as I rounded the corner, a terrifying sight came to my face as my glee turned to sorrow. I watched with horror as I realized Dad’s influence on the fight kept a more dangerous foe than any before at bay. Now that the fight was over, he had no reason to keep it around, and for once, I wasn’t sure if I could get through this unscathed. I gulped as I put my hands on the reins, not ready to face the impossible challenge alone. I hoped it wouldn’t break me as I prepared what little I had to fight this foe.
”There is an unusual amount of traffic in your area today.”
“Now you tell me…”
None other, than New York traffic.
I’d like to say that I did something else. Like I defeated an army of drakons on my way, or managed to fight off crazed demigods sent by my dad…but no. It was pretty much just traffic the rest of the way there. It was long and arduous, but I managed to make my way over to The Intrepid. After that traffic,I had to say, the amount of crazy drivers was almost San Francisco bad. I’d have taken as many spartoi and boars as dad could throw at me, if it meant I wasn’t drowning in the sea of cars. I drove down Pier 86, feeling a sense of relief as I got closer and closer to the aircraft carrier turned museum. As I got within eyeshot, I realized that dad said to take it to the temple, but not where to drop it off at.
It would be really stupid to end up failing just because I wasn’t sure where to leave dad’s ride. I got off the chariot, and was eyeing the prices of a ticket.
“Adults are thirty-six, Seniors and College Students…thirty four… Oh hey! Children of Ares get in free! Now, how do I wheel dad’s chariot through the front…”
Suddenly the side gate opened, lights flashing and clanging as it automatically retracted. The person standing in the booth waved me over and I hopped back onto the chariot, driving it by cautiously. They were dressed like a security guard, shades covering their eyes as they looked down onto their phone that they were absentmindedly playing with. Eyebrow piercings peeked out from behind the shades. They were tall, looked about early twenties, and seemed like your average bored museum guard, if not for that sorta godly aura I got from them.
“Take the chariot this way, Lord Ares will be at the end of Pier 86. Can’t miss him.”
I eyed the godling suspiciously. They seemed like one of those myriad younger and minor gods I saw when I was on Olympus. Not anyone I’d know, but if they wanted to stop me, it’d be annoying to get past them. They didn’t seem to be that dangerous, at least right now. But when you were a demigod, you learned to be wary of free handouts.
“Uh…look man, I’m going to be honest. I just got through some hellish traffic to get through here. So if like, you’re leading me into a trap or if my godly brothers are going to show up to try and take this, can you just start the fight and save me the trouble? It’s been a long morning, and I just wanna get this over with.”
I stared back at my reflection through their mirrored shades. Growing up, I always thought of myself as gangly and awkward. I could see my messed up hair, tousled from the wind. I stood tall, and although I wasn’t the buffest Ares kid around, you couldn’t call me skinny anymore. I looked almost heroic as I held the reins atop the chariot. Was that how I looked now? The godling shook their head as they chuckled, putting down their phone as they looked at me in the eyes.
“Kid, even for a god like Ares who likes conflict, you don’t do something like that in a temple. You can’t just attack his kid on his own grounds. Plus, it's part of the rules of war to respect neutralized zones. Trust me, you’re home free.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
He nodded and went back on his phone. I snapped on the reins and the chariot trotted along, even fire-breathing horses had to follow traffic laws apparently. I was on guard, not taking the godling’s words at face value. Mortals in a daze parted around the chariot, a few snapping pictures at me. I freaked out for a split second before I heard the tourists being in awe at what I heard to be a “vintage bomber”. Dumbfounded, I stopped for a brief second. It didn’t even have wings! But, I could see the mist shimmer around me and for a brief moment, see the silhouette of the plane around the chariot. It was an old fighter, a single propellor with flaming horse art on the nose.
“P-40B Warhawk? Alright, guess we’re working with that.”
I frowned a bit, trying to think if I knew that before this, from a school project or if it was more demigod shenanigans. I was never into fighter jets, but when you’re a demigod sometimes your parent’s godly influence shoves itself into your head and it’s always confusing when it does.
I drove the “plane” to the end of the pier, where I could see my dad sitting down on a barricade, blocking off a massive plane above him. It wasn’t used for war apparently, because I had no clue what type of plane it was. Looked cool though, it was really narrow around the nose end and the wings were all near the back end. He had a big wicked-looking combat knife in his hand that he used to clean his nails. He looked up at me, disinterestedly, before going back down to the knife.
“You’re alive.”
I couldn’t tell from his tone if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed… neutral. Like he was stating the sky was blue. But, overall I’d take that as a good thing, considering our last meeting. I spoke a bit warily, not sure if he was in a good or bad mood considering my victory.
“Uh, so Father. I’m finished with what you-”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not!? Do I need to do anything or-”
A moment of panic snuck up into my chest. For a brief moment I was afraid he was going to pull a twelve labors on me, but then he whistled and held out his hand.
“Not until you give me the keys kid, then it’s done.”
I hopped out of the chariot, the reins in my hand turning into keys as the horses went back into their motorcycle form. I somewhat clumsily tossed it to my dad, who grabbed it. He pushed himself off his perch, first making sure his motorcycle was unharmed. Then, he turned to me, eying me up and down as he circled around where I stood. I stood still, at attention as I felt my heart racing in my chest. I felt like a deer, cornered by a wolf just waiting to strike. Yet, the first pang of anxiety soon settled down. If he wanted to take care of me, he would have done so already. Or sent something more dangerous like a Drakon at me when I was driving. I felt my heart leap up into my throat as he clapped a big hand on my shoulder. The gesture wasn’t hostile, if anything, the motion seemed friendly. But his grip was anything but. His hand, like the claws of a tiger dug into my shoulder as he grinned at me.
“I have to say, I thought you were a lost cause, but look at you kid. Took you long enough, but I guess you have enough of me in you after all. Well, a late bloomer is better than being completely useless, but man! You were one of my most pathetic kids when you took that oath. I don’t think I had a kid as wimpy as you in a long time. Well, I’m glad my little nudge helped you keep that oath up after all. It would have been a waste of a perfectly good warrior if you didn’t shape up.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He helped me? He didn’t do anything! I wasn’t stupid enough to point it out, but I guess he knew what I was thinking as I felt his grip tighten as he growled.
“Come on, don’t give me that look, kid. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Tip of advice: don’t dip your toes into cards. You have a horrible poker face. Your mom was the same way. But, yes. I helped. Not that kids these days would understand. Parents these days are too soft, including most of us gods. Back in Sparta, we’d leave our kids to fend for themselves. Just give them barely enough food and let them hunt or steal the rest. If they end up dying in the hunt or starved, well that’s fine. They were too weak to do anything of note anyway. You should consider yourself lucky I was generous enough to just turn my back on you.”
He chuckled low, and my blood ran cold as he shook me. I shook my head, fighting off a wave of dizziness as he threatened to take off my arm.
“Oh, but that’s in the past! You passed your agōgē period, all by yourself. Now that is true strength.”
His evil grin widened as he gave me the closest thing to an approved look he’d ever given me. I furrowed my brow as I shook my head. This credit, it wasn’t mine to take, was it? Before I could think, I spoke what was on my mind.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t do this by myself. Everywhere I went, I had someone to help me out. If it wasn’t for the help from my friends, I don’t think I would be standing here. I didn’t-”
My dad’s good mood instantly soured as his grin warped into a snarl. His grip, although somewhat friendly now seemed dangerously tight as he frustratingly interrupted me.
“Oh for the love of! I’m complimenting you, kid. Look. I don’t care about those other twerps one way or another. Allies are fine enough in war, as long as you don’t make them do all the work. Kid, you’ve gotten strong all on your own, like a true son of mine. Don’t deny you and me the kleos you rightfully deserve ever again. Shut up and just take the honor.”
“I…uh…yes, Dad.”
I was surprised that all it accounted to was a mild scolding. My dad, too seemed to calm down after I agreed with his words, as he went back to a smile. He put his hand back into his pocket as he started to walk up to his chariot. He ran his finger across the chrome finish, taking out a cloth and cleaning off my fingerprints from the metal.
“About your joyride. Not bad, not bad at all. It took you a bit to embrace your birthright, but you ended up not even scratching my ride. Nice. Nice. Saves me the trouble of buffing it out. Now, if you could only stop complaining at everything that opposed you. You’re a man, aren’t you David? Start acting like it. If you think a bag of bones and a pig are hard, just wait until your future. The stronger a warrior gets, the stronger their foes get. Make sure you’re strong enough to stand up against them before you end up a stain on the pavement.”
I heard the engine rev as he got into the seat. He threw a bag at me that I clumsily fumbled with before I fully caught it. I opened it, and a few golden drachmas shined back at me.
“Since your agōgē finished up, consider yourself un-cut off. Even I’m not heartless enough to leave a son of mine stranded in New York. Keep the rest. Feel free to hang around my temple, and help yourself to the gift shop if you want, it’s on the house, happy birthday and all that. Just don’t go overboard.”
He turned the motorcycle, wheeling it around so he could leave the pier. He turned around, giving me a few more parting words he shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Don’t think you’re done yet, David. You got a lot more to grow. Especially now that you can receive my blessings again. What, did you think that taking a good hit was all you can do? You’ll see sooner or later. See ya kid! Don’t disappoint me.”
He revved his engine one more time and took off, leaving me behind on the pier. As I watched my dad leave, I realized that with that resolved, the last of what made my Styx Oath so suffocating was finally finished. A part of me felt that I’d always keep the consequences of it with me. Either dad would continue to disown me, or I’d be horribly injured from my jobs. But, to my surprise, everything worked out alright. I worked as hard as I could, and now everything was over, truly over. I…wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I mean, like obviously I didn’t wanna have them with me for the rest of my life. But, for all of my oath’s lifespan I had the deadline looming overhead, and my expectation was that something would happen to me as a result. I was glad to have it over with, but I never felt that I could relax until now. The feeling of not having the anxiety of my imminent demise was something I wasn’t familiar with, and to be honest I still have trouble relaxing. As he disappeared into the afternoon traffic, I realized that, so too did my previous life.
Maybe…maybe I could afford to enjoy my life now after all.
OOC: And there we have it! The final David storymode relevant to this storyline! I meant to have this yesterday but I didn't see the modmail that gave me the okay until literally an hour ago oop. Which means that yes, the Chariot and Ares both are approved from the mods.
Big thank you to Tiffany's writer, angelspoint for helping me with her parts, I had a blast working with them! Hope you enjoyed David's Victory lap!

My grandmother is an 88 year old woman living in Howard Beach, NY. My grandfather kicked her out when she was 73 so he could marry his high school sweetheart (they reconnected on Facebook). Grandma didn't have any money and was living with various relatives every few months.
When Grandma's older brother passed away in 2011, he left his house to her. Grandma's brother's children all live in California. The house has no mortgage and is very well maintained with very good appliances. The house is a duplex. Both units have dishwashers, washer dryers, microwaves, fridges, and ovens. Grandma inherited the house with tenants. They have been paying her 2000 since 2011. She gets a discount on the property because of her senior citizen status. The money is just enough for her to get by. The tenants also help take care of her. The tenants have left 9 months ago because they bought their own home in New Jersey. Grandma refuses to take any money from us or sell the house. She is very hopeful that she will find a new tenant. She is pretty much broke at this point and has run through all her savings. It's pretty difficult to find a tenant that deep in Howard Beach because it's not to close to any buses or subway.
Real question and tldr: Grandma has a duplex and hasn't had a tenant in 9 months. The 2000 dollars every much in rent helps her get by. It's her only source of income. Would it be possible to redo her taxes and write off the rent as loss of income? How would I go about helping her do that?

Backstory: My grandmother is an 88 year old woman living in Howard Beach, NY. My grandfather kicked her out when she was 73 so he could marry his high school sweetheart (they reconnected on Facebook). Grandma didn't have any money and was living with various relatives every few months.
When Grandma's older brother passed away in 2011, he left his house to her. Grandma's brother's children all live in California. The house has no mortgage and is very well maintained with very good appliances. The house is a duplex. Both units have dishwashers, washer dryers, microwaves, fridges, and ovens. Grandma inherited the house with tenants. They have been paying her 2000 since 2011. She gets a discount on the property because of her senior citizen status. The money is just enough for her to get by. The tenants also help take care of her. The tenants have left 9 months ago because they bought their own home in New Jersey. Grandma refuses to take any money from us or sell the house. She is very hopeful that she will find a new tenant. She is pretty much broke at this point and has run through all her savings. It's pretty difficult to find a tenant that deep in Howard Beach because it's not to close to any buses or subway.
Real question and tldr:
Grandma has a duplex and hasn't had a tenant in 9 months. The 2000 dollars every much in rent helps her get by. It's her only source of income. Would it be possible to redo her taxes and write off the rent as loss of income? How would I go about helping her do that?

I'm 17, currently graduating my Senior year of highschool.
I came out as trans to my parents about 2 years ago now, back when I was a Sophomore (I’d known for longer). I've completely regretted it ever since and went back into the closet, I just tell my parents I'm a masculine woman and I was confused. A lot happened and I've been called a lot of names (slurs) by both of my parents, mainly my mother. She's done that long before I came out to her though because of my choice of style. She's said some incredibly hurtful things to me outside of the name calling like how she wishes she never had me, that I'm a failure/disappointment, "what would your grandparents think??" etc specifically because of how I dress.
Finding a way that I like to dress that makes me more comfortable has changed a lot for me and it's really helped me with self-image issues I’d had. I know my parents don't see it this way, and I know it's upsetting to them but I just feel terrible whenever I'm forced to wear dresses, outfits that show cleavage, or other just generally girly things not by choice. I've tried to make compromises with my mom about dressier pants, blouses, and so on but she always says that I'm doing it to spite her or upset her intentionally. She calls me a dyke, a carpet muncher, says that she's ashamed of me, "why can't you just be like other girls / Other girls don't dress like this," idk she just gets mean about it? Why would you say these kinds of things to your own kid?? I've tried explaining to her that it's a style I like and that wearing girly things makes me feel uncomfortable but she always dismisses it by saying I used to wear those kinds of things all the time.
For graduation, I'd sat down with my mom to look at outfits and she went over a lot of the usual things that tended to be revealing, or things she knows I don't like but wants me to wear anyways, so I try to compromise. I picked out something that she and I both liked which was overall shorts with a white shirt underneath. She ended up not ordering it, saying that I was "indecisive" when I'd been pretty clear that I liked it and she seemingly did too, but now it's too late and it won't be here on time, so she's trying to force me to go out and buy a dress or something else with her. I tried to convince her to let me wear a blouse and nice pants but she blowed up and it turned into a big argument. She said I'm "selfish and don't care about anyone's feelings but my own” for not wearing something that practically has my tits hanging out, which I am NOT comfortable with.
Am I the asshole for wanting to wear something I'm comfortable in for graduation? I know I can only see from my own perspective and I am not asking for advice. I wanted to hear the thoughts of others on this, I've been struggling a lot with if I'm being an unreasonable prick or not??

This is the second half of my list for Florida's execution roster. As stated in the first part, I split it into two halves in order to follow reddit's character count limitations. Link to part 1.
The currently 105 executed offenders, cases 53 to 105:
53. Aileen Wuornos (~1974-2002, lethal injection): Wuornos murdered 7 men between the ages of 47-65. She was a street prostitute that enticed her victims with promises of sexual favors. After a victim was entrapped, Wuornos shot them dead, and robbed them of their money and their vehicles. Although Wuornos initially claimed that she killed the victims in self defense, she later admitted that they were murdered for their valuables. Her criminal history was extensive, and she had several convictions for armed robbery, assault, DUIs, reckless discharge of firearms, and disorderly conduct. She was also accused of domestic violence by an ex husband, and he placed a restraining order on her within weeks of their marriage.
54. Linroy Bottoson (~1971-2002, lethal injection): In a robbery of a post office, Bottoson stole $14,000 in money orders and $100 in cash, and abducted the post mistress, 74 year old Catherine Alexander. After holding her captive for 3 days, Bottoson stabbed Alexander 16 times, and ran her over with his car. He had several robberies on his criminal record.
55. Amos King Jr. (~1972-2002, lethal injection): After he escaped from a minimum security prison, King broke into the home of 68 year old Natalie Brady and assaulted her. She was raped, stabbed, and savagely beaten in the attack. King then set her house on fire, and returned back to the prison. At his arrival, the prison counselor confronted him about his absence and bloodied clothing. He was stabbed 25 times by King, but managed to survive his injuries. Despite her injuries, Brady managed to crawl out of her burning home, but succumbed to blood loss shortly before help could arrive. King had a previous conviction for robbery.
56. Newton Slawson (1989-2003, lethal injection): Slawson went over to the home of the Wood family (consisting of parents, 23 year old Gerald and 21 year old Peggy, and their children, 4 year old Jennifer and 3 year old Glendon) to buy some cocaine. During an argument over the transaction, Slawson shot and killed Gerald, Jennifer, and Glendon, and wounded Peggy. Slawson then stabbed Peggy (who was 8 months pregnant) with such force that he tore her unborn child out of her womb.
57. Paul Hill (1994-2003, lethal injection): During an attack on an abortion clinic, Hill shot and killed John Britton, a 69 year old abortionist, and his bodyguard, 74 year old James Barrett. Britton’s wife, 68 year old June, was also wounded in the shooting. Hill was a hardline pro life activist and Christian fundamentalist, and saw ending abortion by any means necessary as his personal divine mission.
58. Johnny Robinson (~1980s-2004, lethal injection): Robinson and his teenage accomplice picked up 31 year old Beverly St. George when they found her broken down on the side of the road. They then raped St. George and shot her to death. He tried to claim that they had consensual relations and St. George was hit by an accidental discharge during intercourse. If Robinson's "recollection" was to be believed, he then shot her again to cover up an "accidental" shooting of a white woman. The courts weren't convinced by the defense, and the accomplice admitted that the murder was entirely deliberate and calculated from the beginning. Robinson had several rape convictions and accusations before St. George's murder.
59. John Blackwelder (~1970s-2004, lethal injection): While incarcerated for molesting a 10 year old boy, Blackwelder tied up his cellmate, 39 year old Raymond Wigley, under the alleged pretenses of a bondage session and strangled him to death with makeshift rope. According to Blackwelder, Wigley had been sexually harassing him, and he wanted to put a permeant end to the unwanted advances. Blackwelder had several sexual assault convictions dating back to the 1970s, and was also previously convicted for threatening former vice president Dan Quayle. His victim was the accomplice of another executed offender, John Marek, and was serving a life sentence for assisting him in the torture murder of a woman [for more details on Marek and Wigley's crimes, please see section 68] at the time of his own death.
60. Glen Ocha (1999-2005, lethal injection): Ocha picked up 28 year old Carol Skjerva from a bar and they had sex in his home. However, Skjerva allegedly made mocking remarks towards his genitals and threatened to tell her fiance of their encounter. In a drunken rage and under the influence of ecstasy, Ocha hung her with rope from his kitchen door.
61. Clarence Hill (1982-2006, lethal injection): During an attempted bank robbery with an accomplice, Hill engaged in a shootout with the responding policemen. One of the officers, 26 year old Stephen Taylor, was killed and another was wounded.
62. Arthur Rutherford (1985-2006, lethal injection): Rutherford was hired by a widow, 63 year old Stella Salamon, to do odd jobs around her home. He then drowned Salamon in her bathtub and tried to cash in a check of $2,000 from her account. Salamon's nude body was found with a broken arm, bruising all across her face, and three head wounds.
63. Danny Rolling (~1960s-2006, lethal injection): Rolling murdered a total of 8 people between the ages of 8-55. In 1989, Rolling stabbed 55 year old William Grissom, William’s 24 year old daughter Julie, and his 8 year old grandson Sean to death in their home. Julie’s body was ritualistically mutilated and posed during the attack. A year later, he shot his estranged father, 59 year old James. Although James survived, he was left permanently blind. Rolling then burglarized several student dorms in a week long rampage. Five students, 23 year old Tracy Paules, 23 year old Manuel Taboda, 18 year old Sonja Larson, 17 year old Christa Hoyt, and 17 year old Christina Powell, were bound, raped, and stabbed to death. Only Taboada was spared from any sexual abuse. As with Julia Grissom, Rolling posed the female victims into provocative positions and mutilated their bodies. Roiling decapitated Hoyt and placed her head on a cabinet shelf for the sole purpose of shocking witnesses stumbling across the scene. He had a long history of robberies, assaults, and voyeurism, and some of his earliest convictions occurred when he was a teenager.
64. Ángel Díaz (~1960s-2006, lethal injection): In his native Puerto Rico, Díaz stabbed an unidentified man, who was a director of a local drug rehabilitation center, 19 times while the victim was asleep. Díaz was sentenced for second degree murder, but he escaped after beating a guard near death, and fled to Florida. During his stay in Florida, Díaz and his accomplices robbed a strip club at gunpoint, and shot and killed the manager, 49 year old Joseph Nagy. After Nagy’s murder, he and his accomplices relocated themselves to Connecticut. However, they were arrested for a possession of illegal firearms charge. Díaz and 3 other inmates briefly managed to escape by beating up a guard and threatening another at knifepoint, but were quickly recaptured. After a cellmate testified that Díaz confessed to Nagy’s murder, he was deported back to Florida and sentenced to death. His execution sparked controversy, as it took him 34 minutes to succumb to the lethal drugs. Díaz’s other criminal convictions include shooting and injuring an officer during an armed robbery and several drug possession charges. Authorities also suspected him of being involved with several Puerto Rican nationalist insurgent groups.
65. Mark Schwab (1987-2008, lethal injection): Schwab lured 11 year old Junny Rios-Martinez into a motel room by posing as a photographer for a surfing magazine. He bound Rios-Martinez, anally penetrated him, and smothered the boy to death with a pillow. Schwab also had a conviction for the sexual battery of a 13 year old boy, and he was released after serving 3 out of an 8 year prison sentence months before Rios-Martinez's murder.
66. Richard Henyard (1993-2008, lethal injection): Henyard and his teenage accomplice carjacked 35 year old Dorothy Lewis, and her two daughters, 7 year old Jamilya and 3 year old Jasmine. The pair raped Dorothy, and shot and killed both of her daughters. Dorothy was also shot in the head, but was able to survive. Dorothy recounted that she tried praying for her and her children's safety, and Henyard taunted her by mockingly claiming to be Satan himself.
67. Wayne Tompkins (~1980s-2008, lethal injection): While helping his girlfriend move from their home, Tompkins made sexual advances on her 15 year old daughter, Lisa DeCarr. When she rejected him, Tompkins raped and strangeld her to death with a bathrobe, and tried to report DeCarr as a runaway. Tompkins also had several sexual assault convictions and accusations prior to the murder. One incident involved him abducting and abusing a gas station clerk.
68. John Marek (~1980s-2008, lethal injection): Marek and his accomplice, Raymond Wigley, picked up 47 year old Adela Simmons. They forced Simmons to perform oral sex on them, burned her fingers and pubic hairs, and strangled her to death with a bandana. The pair then dumped her body near a beach. Marek was sentenced to death for Simmons' murder, while Wigley was given a life sentence. While in prison, Wigley himself was strangled to death by the above mentioned John Blackwelder.
69. Martin Grossman (1984-2010, lethal injection): Grossman was given probation after a spree involving the burglary of an ex girlfriend's home and stealing cars. While out shooting a stolen handgun with a friend, they were confronted by Margaret Park, a 26 year old wildlife ranger. Wanting to avoid being arrested and put back into prison for violating his parole, Grossman and his friend attacked Park with a flashlight. They wrestled her service pistol away from her and shot and killed Park with it. Due to Grossman being Jewish, his death sentence outraged several Jewish organizations across the globe, and they petitioned ceaselessly for his clemency.
70. Manuel Valle (1978-2011, lethal injection): While driving a stolen car, Valle was pulled over by Louis Pena, a 41 year old police officer, for a traffic violation. In the confrontation, Valle shot Pena and his partner. Although Pena was killed in the shooting, his partner's life was saved by a bullet proof vest.
71. Oba Chandler (~1960s-2011, lethal injection): Chandler enticed a woman, 36 year old Joan Rogers, and her two daughters, 17 year old Michelle and 14 year old Christe, with the promise of a boat ride. On board, he bound the family with rope and raped all three of them. Chandler then tied concrete blocks around Joan and her daughters' necks and tossed them into the ocean to drown. He also raped and strangled 20 year old Ivelisse Berrios–Beguerisse after abducting her from a mall, and was linked to the murder by a 2014 DNA test 3 years after his execution. Chandler was an inveterate sexual predator with a very long criminal history, and was first arrested for car theft in his early teens. Many of his other crimes include several convictions of armed robbery, burglary, rape, counterfeiting, and kidnapping. In one incident, he broke into a couple’s house, and sexually assaulted the wife in front of her husband. One surviving victim, a 24 year old Canadian tourist, helped investigators tie Chandler to the Rogers’ murders with her reports.
72. Robert Waterhouse (~1966-2012, lethal injection): In 1966, Waterhouse snuck into the home of 77 year old Ella Carter, and raped and strangled her to death. He was paroled after serving 8 years of a life sentence. A few years later, Waterhouse picked up 29 year old Deborah Kammerer from a bar and assaulted her on a nearby beach. He stabbed and violated Kammerer with a broken bottle, shoved a tampon down her throat, and drowned her in the ocean waters.
73. David Gore (1981-2012, lethal injection): Gore and his cousin abducted and murdered 4 teenage girls (17 year old Ying Hua Ling, 17 year old Lynn Eilliot, 14 year old Angelica LaVallee, 14 year old Barbara Byer) and 2 grown women (48 year old Hsiang Huang Ling and 35 year old Judith Daley). The victims were kidnapped through force, picked up while hitchhiking, or tricked into thinking that Gore was a police officer detaining them. They were then tied up, raped, and shot or strangled to death. The cousins dismembered the bodies in their attempts to destroy them and buried the scattered remains in shallow graves. Two of their victims, Ying Hua Ling and Hsiang Huang Ling, were a mother and daughter pair of Taiwanese immigrants, and the cousins murdered them together. A 7th victim, 14 year old friend of Eilliot, was also abducted and sodomized, but she managed to escape with Eilliot's help.
74. Manuel Pardo Jr. (1986-2012, lethal injection): Pardo was a corrupt cop heavily involved in the drug trade. After his department fired him for his abuse of power and suspected tampering of investigations, Pardo went on a crime spree. He shot and killed at least 9 men and women in robberies and interpersonal disputes. The victims he murdered in robberies were 39 year old Ulpiano Ledo, 37 year old Luis Robledo, 33 year old Mario Amador, and 28 year old Roberto Alons. In every robbery incident, he stole the victims’ credit cards. Pardo killed 28 year old Fara Quintero in an argument over a ring he pawned to her and 30 year old Sara Musa for refusing his demands of buying him a VCR set with a credit card stolen from one of his previous robberies. Another victim, Michael Millot, a 38 year old Haitian refugee that took up work as a gunsmith, was slain out of Pardo’s fears of him being a police informant. His last murders were 40 year old Ramon Alvero, a drug dealer that he work for, and Alvaro’s girlfriend, 38 year old Daisy Ricard. Pardo turned on the couple after Alvaro stiffed him of a meeting. He shot Alvaro dead, but Padro’s gun jammed when he tried to shoot Ricard as well. As he was beating Ricard to death with his gun, it discharged and hit Pardo’s foot. On death row, Pardo tried to fashion himself as a vigilante trying to rid Florida of all drug related crimes.
75. Larry Mann (~1970s-2012, lethal injection): Mann ambushed 10 year old Elisa Nelson while she was biking from school to a dentist appointment. He raped Nelson and beat her to death with a pipe. Authorities also initially suspected Mann in the murders of several girls in the area, such as 16 year old Janie Sanders and 13 year old Rose Levandoski, but the current thinking is that another (still unknown) predator was likely responsible. Although he had convictions against adult women, Mann was a pedophile with a history of mostly preying on young girls.
76. Elmer Carroll (~1972-2012, lethal injection): Carroll broke into the room of 10 year old Christine McGowan. He raped and strangled the girl to death, tucked the body underneath the bedsheets, and stole her stepfather's construction truck. McGowan's body discovered was by her stepfather when he came to check on her. At the time of the murder, Carroll had two separate convictions (including one against his then 5 year old niece) for child molestation and was first accused of rape at the age of 16.
77. William Van (~1971-2013, lethal injection): Poyck Van Poyck and another man, Frank Valdez, ambushed a prison van that their incarcerated friend was being transported in with the intent of freeing him. The pair shot and killed a guard, 40 year old Fred Griffis and wounded another. Despite overtaking the van, they were forced to retreat without their friend with the arrival of police reinforcements. Both were captured after a brief shootout with the police and were given death sentences for Griffis’ murder. The case sparked controversy when Valdez was beaten to death by other prison guards in his cell. The officers involved were all fired but acquitted for murder in their trials. Van Poyck had several convictions of armed robbery on his record.
78. John Ferguson (~1960s-2013, lethal injection): Ferguson was the mastermind of the Carol City massacre that his above mentioned accomplices, Marvin Francois and Beauford White, participated in. He also committed a series of murders on his own. Two of his other victims, 17 year old Brian Glenfeldt and 17 year old Belinda Worley, were a couple that were ambushed in the parking lot of an ice cream shop. Ferguson raped Worley, shot her and Glenfeldt dead, and ran off with her jewelry and Glenfeldt’s wallet. Another couple, 82 year old Katherine and 75 year old Raymond Perry, were assaulted by Ferguson in their motel room, robbed, and shot dead execution style. Authorities also believe that Ferguson was responsible for the murders of James Ward, a 40 year old runaway from a mental institution, and Joseph Walters (age unknown), but was never convicted of them in court. Ferguson had a troubled upbringing, was stealing cars at the age of 13, and convicted for the attempted murder of an officer. Due to allegations of him being a schizophrenic, his execution was delayed numerous times, which is why he was put to death decades after his accomplices.
79. Marshall Gore (1988-2013, lethal injection): Gore abducted and murdered two women, 30 year old Robyn Novick and 19 year old Susan Roark. Both women were last seen in his company, and they were raped, beaten, and stabbed to death. He also carjacked 32 year old Tina Coralis while she was driving with her 2 year old son Jimmy. Gore raped Tina, beat her with a rock, slit her throat, dumped her on the side of the road, and drove off with her car while Jimmy was still in it. Tina survived the attack and notified the police about her kidnapped son and stolen car. The police were able to rescue Jimmy unharmed and capture Gore without incident.
80. William Happ (~1980s-2013, lethal injection): Happ dragged 21 year old Angela Crowley out of her own car window in a convenience store parking lot. He anally raped and strangled Crowley to death with her pants. A corner's report mentioned that Crowley received over 20 blows to her head during the assault. Happ had several convictions of armed robbery, one of which pertained to an abduction incident.
81. Darius Kimbrough (1991-2013, lethal injection): Kimbrough climbed into the apartment window of 28 year old Denise Collin with the help of a ladder. He raped and repeatedly slammed her head against the wall. She was found bloodied and nude by the paramedics called to the scene. Collin died of her injuries in the hospital a day after the attack. Her murder went unsolved until samples of Kimbrough’s DNA were collected from another one of his rapes. With the presence of additional pubic hairs found in Collin’s room, at least two other men were also certainly involved, but they remain at large to this day.
82. Thomas Knight (~1960s-2013, lethal injection): Knight began his string of murders by abducting his former employer, 64 year old Sydney Gans, and Sydney's wife, 60 year old Lillian. After her forced them to withdraw $50,000 from their bank accounts, Knight shot the Gans' dead. He was apprehended and, but he managed to escape from jail while awaiting trial. While on the run, Knight gunned down a clerk, 54 year old William Culpepper, while holding up a liquor store, and $640 from the cash register. A month later, Knight was recaptured following an armed standoff with police, and sentenced to death for the Gan killings. On death row, he stabbed a correctional officer, 48 year old Richard Burke, to death with a sharpened spoon over the prison allegedly barring him from seeing his mother. Knight had numerous theft and burglary convictions that date back to when he was 9 years old.
83. Juan Chavez (1995-2014, lethal injection): Chavez accosted 9 year old Jimmy Ryce when the boy was dropped off at a stop by a school bus, and abducted him at gunpoint. He took Ryce to a trailer on his employers' property and raped him. When Ryce tried to signal a passing helicopter for help, Chavez shot him in the back of the head, and muffled his cries as he died. The body was then decapitated and dismembered, and Chavez buried the remains near his trailer.
84. Paul Howell (~1990s-2014, lethal injection): Howell was part of a drug smuggling gang. One of the members had a falling out with the ring and made an agreement with law enforcement to testify against them. Howell constructed a microwave bomb to assassinate the witness in her home, and he assigned an associate to carry out the hit. As he was transporting the bomb to its intended destination, the associate was pulled over and detained by deputies. While being processed, the bomb detonated prematurely, and killed a deputy, 35 year old James Fulford, Jr.
85. Robert Henry (1987-2014, lethal injection): As part of his plan to assault the gas station that he worked at, Henry tricked his co workers, 53 year old Phyllis Harris and 35 year old Janet Thermidor, into thinking that a robber was holding him hostage. He duped the women into allowing themselves to be tied up and gagged, as Henry claimed to them that the fictitious "robber" was forcing him to do it. Both women were beaten with hammers as Henry ransacked the station’s store. After he stole a total of $1,269 from the register, he poured gasoline all over the building, and set it on fire. Thermidor and Harris were burned alive in the blaze and died of their injures, but Thermidor survived long enough to identify Henry as the assailant.
86. Robert Hendrix (1990-2014, lethal injection): To prevent his cousin, 25 year old Elmer Scott Jr., from testifying against him in a then upcoming burglary trail, Hendrix broke into the home that he shared with his wife, 18 year old Susan, with an accomplice. He shot Susan and Elmer, beat them with the butt of his rifle, and slashed their throats. In the case that he was about to be tried for, Elmer and Hendrix burglarized a home together, and Elmer agreed to testify against him in exchange for a reduced sentence.
87. John Henry (~1975-2014, lethal injection): In 1975, Henry got into an argument with his first wife, 28 year old Patricia Roddy, while they were driving with her daughters. Henry pulled over and stabbed Patricia to death in front of her children. After he plead guilty, Henry was given a 15 year sentence for second degree murder, and was released in 1983 after serving 8. Shortly after his release, he married 28 year old Suzanne Overstreet. As what happened with his first wife, he fatally stabbed Suzanne during an argument in 1985. He then took his stepson, 4 year old Eugene Christian, to a chicken farm and stabbed him to death as well. Henry also had several convictions for the possession of drugs and illegal firearms.
88. Eddie Davis (~1980s-2014, lethal injection): Davis kidnapped his ex girlfriend's daughter, 11 year Kimberly Waters, from her home and gagged her with a rag. He took the girl to a trailer that he used to live in, and raped and strangled her to death. His criminal activity before the murder included several arrests for burglary and autotheft.
89. Chadwick Banks (1992-2014, lethal injection): Banks shot his wife, 30 year old Cassandra, in the head while she was sleeping on their couch. He then crept into the room of his stepdaughter, 10 year old Melody Cooper, and sexually assaulted her. Melody was also shot dead during the abuse.
90. Johnny Kormondy (~1989-2014, lethal injection): Kormondy and his two accomplices invaded a house that Gary McAdams, a 38 year old banker, shared with his wife, 38 year old Cecilia. The couple were ambushed after they returned home from a high school reunion. Gary was shot and killed by Kormondy, while Cecilia was forced to orally copulate the other intruders. Several items were stolen in the robbery, but my sources didn’t disclose any specifics. Kormondy had several previous convictions of robberies and auto thefts, and the earliest occurred when he was 14.
91. Jerry Correll (1985-2015, lethal injection): Correll shot and killed his ex wife, 25 year old Susan, their daughter, 5 year old Tuesday, Susan's sister, 29 year old Marybeth Jones, and their mother, 58 year old Mary Lou Hines. All four victims were murdered in a home they shared together.
92. Oscar Bolin (~1977-2015, lethal injection): Bolin was sentenced to death for the abductions and murders of 26 year old Teri Matthews, 25 year old Natalie Holley, and 17 year old Stephanie Collins. All 3 victims were kidnapped while they were getting off from work, raped, and killed in beating and stabbing attacks. He raped and strangled a fourth victim, 30 year old Deborah Stowe, to death in Texas, but wasn't charged due to already facing the death penalty in Florida. Bolin also took part in the non fatal abduction and gang rape of a waitress in Ohio, was charged for kidnapping his girlfriend (which were later dropped by the courts), and had several theft convictions that started when he was 15.
93. Mark Asay (1987-2017, lethal injection): Asay shot and killed a black man, 34 year old Robert Booker, during a racially charged fight that he picked at a bar. After Booker's murder, Asay, his brother, and their friend went cruising for prostitutes. They encountered a cross dressing sex worker, 26 year old Robert McDowell, they were acquainted with and picked him up. McDowell was also shot dead by Asay when they got into an argument over payment for an oral sex act.
94. Michael Lambrix (1983-2017, lethal injection): While intoxicated, Lambrix beat one of his friends, 35 year old Clarence Moore, to death with a tire iron, and fatally strangled another friend, 19 year old Aleisha Bryant, with a t-shirt in their trailer. He was previously arrested for welfare fraud and was detained for an unspecified "unrelated charge" during the murder investigation.
95. Patrick Hannon (1991-2017, lethal injection): 27 year old Brandon Snider vandalized the bedroom of his ex girlfriend while she was away on vacation. The ex girlfriend's brother was friends with Hannon, and he convinced him to launch a revenge attack on Snider with the help of another friend. They broke into Snider's apartment, stabbed him, and slit his throat. Snider's roommate, 28 year old Robert Carter, witnessed the murder, and tried hiding underneath his bed. Hannon dragged Carter out and shot him to death.
96. Eric Branch (1991-2018, lethal injection): In 1993, Branch abducted and carjacked 21 year old Susan Morris. He raped, beat, and strangled her to death, and then buried Morris' body in a shallow grave near a nature trail. Branch used Morris' car to flee back to his native Indiana, but was captured for a traffic violation. A registered sex offender, Branch had previous convictions for sexually abusing a 14 year old girl, and raped an unidentified woman 10 days before Morris' murder.
97. José Jiménez (~1990-2018, lethal injection): Jiménez fatally strangled Marie Debas, a 32 year old French woman who was allegedly in a relationship with a Medellin cartel drug runner, during a burglary of her apartment. Two years later, he burglarized the home of 63 year old Phyllis Minas, and stabbed her to death.
98. Bobby Long (~1990-2018, lethal injection): As the “Classified Ad Rapist”, Long raped over 50 women. He was given that epithet due to contacting and luring his victims through classified ads. After one of his victims sought charges that initially convicted him (though were later dropped on appeals), Long’s pattern of sexual violence escalated to murder. Long murdered at least 10 women and teenage girls between the ages of 18-28 and non fatally assaulted a 33 year old woman, Linda Nuttall, and a 17 year old girl, Lisa McVey. The victims were picked up through hitchhiking, forcibly grabbed while walking alone on streets, or were prostitutes lured with promises of payment for sexual favors. Long’s sparing of his last victim, McVey, provided to be his downfall, as it was her meticulously detailed reports that led law enforcement to him.
99. Gary Bowles (~1970s-2019, lethal injection): Bowles lured 6 men, 72 year old Milton Bradley, 59 year old John Roberts, 47 year old Walter Hinton, 47 year old Alverson, 39 year old David Jarman, and 38 year old Albert Morris by prostituting himself to them. Once a victim was enticed, Bowles strangled them, and stole their credit cards. He also had several convictions for armed robbery, hospitalized his stepfather in his early teens, and served a 6 year prison sentence for sexually assaulting his girlfriend.
100. Donald Dillbeck (~1979-2023, lethal injection): In 1979, Dillbeck stole a car, and was pulled over by a deputy, 31 year old Dwight Hall. After a prolonged chase and scuffle, Dillbeck shot and killed Hall with his own gun. He was then given a life sentence for Hall's murder. Dillbeck escaped from prison in 1990, and stabbed 44 year old Robbie Vann to death while trying to seize her car. The pursuing officers recaptured him shortly after the killing, and he was sentenced to death for Vann's murder.
101. Louis Gaskin (~1986-2023, lethal injection): Gaskin started his burglary spree by breaking into the home of couple, 56 year old Robert and 55 year old Georgette Sturmfels. He shot them both dead, and stole their lamp, VCR set, and some jewelry and money. His second target was a house owned by 38 year old Joseph Rector and his wife Mary (age unknown). Although Gaskin shot Joseph, the couple both managed to escape him with their lives. Due to him wearing a ninja costume as a disguise during the robberies, he was dubbed as the "Ninja Killer" by media outlets. Gaskin also had a few robbery convictions at the time of the murders.
102. Darryl Barwick (1983-2023, lethal injection): Barwick stalked 24 year old Rebecca Wendt as she was sunbathing in a pool, followed her to her apartment, and forced himself inside to rob it. He stabbed Wendt 37 times and raped her. At the age of 16, Barwick had committed a similar act of rape and burglary against an unidentified woman, and was released from prison 3 months before Wendt's murder.
103. Duane Owen (1984-2023, lethal injection): Owen raped 14 year old Karen Slattery while burglarizing a home she was babysitting at, and stabbed her to death. A few months later, Owen burglarized another home owned by 38 year old Georgianna Worden. She was sexually assaulted and fatally beaten with a hammer. He was captured while breaking into another house on the same day, and confessed to Worden and Slattery's murders
104. James Barnes (~1988-2023, lethal injection): In 1988, Barnes invaded the home of 41 year old Patricia Miller, and tied her up with her own shoelaces. She was sexually assaulted, beaten to death with a hammer, and Barnes set her bed on fire to destroy any evidence of the crime. 9 years later, Barnes strangled his estranged wife, 44 year old Linda, to death in her home, and stuffed the body into a closet. He stayed in the house until he was arrested by police officers. Barnes also admitted to the shooting deaths of Chester Wetmore, a 14 year old runaway, and Brenda Fletcher, a 50 year old prostitute, but was never charged for their killings. According to Barnes, he killed both victims for stealing from him.
105. Michael Zack III (1996-2023, lethal injection): Zack befriended two women, 40 year old Laura Rosillo and 31 year old Ravonne Smith, while hanging out at bars. He lured Rosillo to the beach with the promise of drugs, and assaulted her with a tire iron. Rosillo was raped, strangled to death, and he buried her body in a sand dune. A day later, he tricked Smith into letting him inside her house. She was smashed in the head with a glass bottle, raped, and stabbed to death. Zack then fled with her car, television set, VCR, and her purse. On a different note, when he was a child, Zack’s older sister dismembered their mother with an ax over an argument regarding the sister’s boyfriend. He used that story to gain the sympathy of his victims. His sister (who was simply institutionalized rather then incarcerated for the murder) also testified about their stepfather’s alleged abuse of them at his trial, though the prosecutors debunked most of her stories.

No, not THAT "baton"!! Here's the definition of "Sticky Baton" syndrome:

All the more significant in our survey of some 154 owners, leaders and top executives of mid to large U.S. family businesses from across industries, is that merely 27 percent of respondents possess a robust succession plan for transitioning senior roles at their companies. This leads to what I call the “sticky baton syndrome,” where the older generation hands off management of the firm in theory, while in practice they remain in control of what really matters. from here
March 16, 1958—The Passing of the Baton World Tribune
On March 16, 1958, second Soka Gakkai President Josei Toda entrusted the mission of kosen-rufu to the youth. World Tribune

Nothing got "passed", though, we can all see that - if Toda had, indeed, passed any "baton" to Icky, he wouldn't have had to wait over 2 YEARS to take the office of President of the Soka Gakkai, would he? But now Dickeda has embellished the account to make it all about HIMSELF (per usual):

And President Toda had in turn passed the baton to his disciple, a young Daisaku Ikeda, who later became the third president, “If I cannot do this during my lifetime, I ask you to do it in yours.” Source

Ikeda DIDN'T. Ikeda FAILED. Toda was obviously shit for picking "disciples".
Ikeda kept repeating that this whole "passing the baton" was GOING to happen - and it never did!
HOW many times did Icky tell everyone he was "turning the reins over to the youth"? Let's look at a few!
From 1966, Ikeda's self-glorifying fanfic of his own GREATNESS:

“I am determined to continue striving and opening the way for you. I will chant to the Gohonzon that I live long enough to see all of you develop into outstanding adults and take your places in society, at which time I will pass the baton of our movement to you. Everything I do is for you and for no one else. I will fight courageously for you. I will open the way for you. I will give my life for you! Source

Barf. Dickeata clung to that "baton" with every ounce of energy he could channel into those doughy plump hands of his. Are his "disciples" really so disappointing and incompetent? Then doesn't that mean he's a ROTTEN "Sensei"??
Here's some more:

"We must entrust everything to the youth." - Ikeda, 2007
This was slightly modified for 2009: "The future must be entrusted to the youth." Ikeda
...and recycled entirely for March 16, 2010, March 16, 2011, March 16, 2012, March 16, 2013, and March 16, 2014
Expect to see it repeated on March 16, 2015! (from here - it was written before March 16, 2015)
And for March 16, 2016; and for March 16, 2017; and for March 16, 2018... Source

Did anything get "turned over to the youth"? NO!

But you can't have "creative mimesis" where there is a narcissistic egomaniacal dictator like Ikeda making all the decisions. For all the decades of Ikedaspeak about "turning the reins over to the youth division", the SGI youth still have no power, no control, and no authority. It's been at least 50 years that Ikeda's been saying that, BTW. It's just noise. Source
Besides, if Scamsei REALLY wants "the youth" to "lead", WHY O WHY has he NEVER turned any power or control or money over to "the youth", despite saying for decades that he's "turning the reins over to the youth"?? Source
But even as we are all told by Ikeda that he is "turning the reins over to the youth", the youth NEVER have any decision-making power within SGI. Source

How many times could you hear that before you realized it was just manipulative LIES??

For over four decades I've been hearing the tired old yarn about how youth will be the successors of Soka, and about how youth will be leading the organization, blah blah blah. Well then, where are they? All those youth pioneers I practiced with would be somewhere between 60 and 75 now. Not only did they not lead as youth, but they never led period - not the cult.org or kosen rufu. Besides, the vast majority left das org long ago. Did anyone young or old ever succeed Ikeda? No! And they're still stuck with Ikeda, despite the fact that Ikeda repeatedly stated that he intended to hand the reigns of leadership over to the entire youth division. Riiight... when was that supposed to happen, just after he moved to the USA (as promised)? What a pack of lies! Source
Ikeda will never "turn the reins over to the youth division", despite promising to do exactly that for over 40 years. And if anyone ever tries to call SGI on it, they'll be told, "Oh, that's because we aren't ready! Sensei is protecting us by keeping all the power and control unto himself! We need to prove ourselves worthy to Sensei!!"

Barf.

And then they change the meaning of "successors" so it no longer means "running things"! Source

And HERE's how Die-suckin'a Dick-eata clarified - he never really meant actual YOUTH!

The real meaning of youth has nothing to do with physical age. In Buddhist terms, youth means to consistently maintain an open, flexible and tolerant mind. Ikeda

Discussing the theme for this year, the Year of Developing Youth in the New Era of Worldwide Kosen-rufu, SGI President Ikeda says: “‘Developing youth’ is nothing other than revitalizing and developing our own youthful life state and limitlessly expanding the number of fellow Bodhisattvas of the Earth into the future” (November 18, 2016, World Tribune, p. 7).

Oh 😶

It really is. I didn't realize that "the youth" didn't actually mean the Youth Division until I ran across that source.
And then it all clicked. THAT's why Ikeda has been saying he's preparing to "turn the reins over to the youth" for 50 or 60 years now - he has no intention to EVER cede any control to any young person or group of young people. He and his fellow oldsters will tightly hold all the power, all the while patting themselves on the back for how "youthful" they are.
Just think how often SGI members or SGI articles describe Ikeda as "youthful"... Source
So when Ikeda says he's going to "turn the reins over to the youth" - like he's been saying for the past FIFTY YEARS AT LEAST - he simply means "We old Japanese men are going to stay in control until we die." Source

And isn't Crypt Keeper Harada youthful???

So basically my Cousin Vince is 16 years old and he is around 5,8 ft tall. He plays baseball for the Sophomore School team. He has other friends as well. It was towards the end of the school year and one day while in the equipment room, Vince and his friends were confronted by Older Senior ball players. His other friends ditched him and he was left to be beat up in the equipment room. From what he remembered he was wearing black sweatpants and a black t shirt. Now Vince was strong but not like Buffed. Anyway he was kicked in the stomach and punched in the face, then picked up, and carried then slammed down on some sort of table. Then he said the last thing he remembered he was punched in the face hard. Later he had a lot of injuries. 2 Broken ribs, bruised face, broken wrist, sores on his back and a broken ankle. He got him treated but he never played ball again after that year

Sitting here, in this chair, it's hard to believe the view from my window used to be the endless stretch of the city. Now, it's all trees, hills, and the most picturesque town you could ever imagine. They call it Big Sky, right outside Yellowstone, which suits it perfectly. I've been here for six months, and honestly, I've never been happier to be out of the city.
But I don't think I deserve this peace after what happened. Ten years I spent as a cop in LA with little to no incident. That's why they only fired me, I suppose. Ten years and one day, I made a mistake that changed everything.
I responded to a bank robbery call, and half of the force was downtown in seconds. With no clear leadership, chaos ensued. I'm not sure who shot first, but it triggered an eruption of bullets toward the robbers.
We're trained to react in a second to situations like this. So, after only five seconds, every gun was empty. For some reason, I paused. I didn't pull the trigger. When I realized what had happened, I panicked and shot at the first thing I saw move while everyone else was reloading.
It was a mother and her daughter trying to run away from the shots. Everything stopped in my life at that moment. I saw every cop's eyes on me; some were confused, but some who realized what happened had a look of sympathy.
The media frenzy was insane, and I don't think I'll ever fully recover mentally. I've grown my beard, and my hair is longer than usual. I've successfully gone under the radar, except when I tell someone my full name. I can sense their looks of disgust, even though they never say anything.
There's not a night that I don't see the mother and her daughter in my dreams. Their faces haunt me, and their screams echo in my mind.
It's funny how things change, you know? One minute, you're a cop; the next, you're a park ranger. Well, not really a park ranger; more of a forest ranger. The forest's solitude amplifies the guilt that gnaws at me every day. Every rustle in the leaves and every gust of wind feels like a reminder of what I did. And yet, I can't bring myself to leave. It's as though I'm punishing myself, living in this quiet, isolated place where my only company is the ghosts of my past mistakes. Sometimes, I catch myself thinking about what their lives would have been like if I hadn't made that fatal mistake. Would they still be alive, laughing, and enjoying life? The weight of their loss is a burden I cannot shake.
Out here in Big Sky, it's not like dealing with bears and mountain lions; it's mostly just tourists lost in the woods and the occasional poacher. And then there are the kids... God, the kids. They're always sneaking into places they shouldn't be, trying to find a thrill.
The air is clean, the sky is blue, and the trees stretch for miles in every direction. The only time you see a cop around here is when they're escorting a senior citizen across the road.
And then, just like that, everything changed. Two hikers went missing. At first, it was just another day. I went about my rounds and checked in on the usual hotspots. But then I saw their faces. They were young, probably in their early twenties. Their faces were plastered across every news channel and every billboard in town. It was almost as if they were haunting me.
The first few days were chaotic. Search parties were organized, and the entire force was called to help find them. But as time passed, and there was no sign of them, the search began to die. It was as if everyone had accepted the fact that they were gone.
I couldn't help but feel a weight on my chest every time I saw their faces. It was like they were a constant reminder of my own failures. I tried to push the thoughts away to focus on the task, but it was impossible.
The search parties continued, and with every passing day, the hope of finding them alive dwindled. It felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for a miracle. But deep down, I knew that miracle was unlikely to come.
And with each passing day, the guilt weighed heavier, sinking me deeper into despair. Every time I looked at the faces of those missing hikers, it felt like a punch to the gut. Their disappearance was a haunting echo of my failure, a stark reminder of the lives I had unintentionally shattered. The knowledge that my hesitation and mistake led to this tragedy was a burden I could hardly bear. It felt like I was carrying the weight of their absence on my shoulders, and no amount of searching could alleviate the guilt that consumed me.
I decided to go where the hikers were last seen along the trail. They'd passed another group of hikers around the five-mile marker, but who knows how far and in what direction they have gone since their last sighting.
As I get to mile marker 5, I notice a tree that looks freshly fallen. The inside was splintered with fresh, healthy lumber in the middle of the tree like someone or something had pushed or fallen on it. I went to investigate and noticed large footprints leading further into the woods, but I'd never seen anything out in these woods big enough to create something this large. My mind immediately went to dinosaurs, but I quickly shook that off.
The footprint was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Enormous and ominous, it stretched deep into the earth, leaving a chilling impression of what had passed through the forest. Each claw mark was etched deeply into the soil, as though whatever creature had left it had tremendous power behind each step. For a moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. It was a footprint like that of a wolf but far larger and more menacing, a stark reminder that things in these woods were far beyond my understanding.
With a shiver, I followed the footprints' trail into the woods, my heart racing. The air seemed to grow heavier with each step, as though some immense weight was pressing down upon me. The trees seemed to close in, forming a menacing canopy overhead, blocking the sunlight and casting the forest into a cold, eerie twilight.
The footprints led me to a small clearing, where I caught sight of movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart leaped into my throat as I whirled around, but there was nothing but a small opening for a cave on the side of the mountain.
I walk closer to peer in, but it's too dark to see anything. I contemplate using my phone light when I hear a huge thud in the trees behind me. I turn quickly, but I can't see anything. Thinking I was too paranoid, I decided to walk back to the path. I walk past the spot where I thought I heard the thud, and it looks like a fresh pair of prints. I have to be going crazy. I return to the path and make it to the station as the sun sets.
I can't stop thinking about those footprints and that cave. As I lay in bed later that night, every time I fall asleep, I dream about the entrance to the cave and the two hikers screaming for help inside. It's like there's an invisible wall preventing them from escaping. I see their faces better as I approach and realize it's the mother and daughter I shot in LA. I wake up covered in sweat every time.
The following day, I asked Lauren, one of my coworkers and the only person who treats me like I'm not an outsider from a secret club.
"You should ask Henry; he can access any record we've ever kept. Maybe he can find something about the cave in that clearing." She told me.
"You think he'll help? Since I've arrived, everyone has been so distant, like they're hiding something from me." I reply, hoping she feels enough sympathy to ask Henry herself.
No luck as she replies, "Yeah! Henry's a good one. Look, you've only been here, what, six months? Give it time; I know people will warm up to you."
"Thanks, Lauren," I say, disappointed, as I head to Henry's office. He's been here longer than anyone, so he must know something. When I knock on his door, he looks up at me over his glasses as wrinkles form inquisitively on his forehead. I wait for a greeting, but it never comes; there is only an awkward silence before I break it.
"Hey Henry, how's it going?" I ask awkwardly
Henry sighs and leans back in his chair as he folds his arms, waiting for me to ask him to do his job.
"Um, yeah, so I found this small cave entrance near the Hart Trail. I saw a tree that must've just been torn down from the middle a few days before I arrived, and I saw these giant, weird-looking footprints. I followed them, and I found the cave entrance. Do you know anything about that cave?" I ask, hoping he'll be more willing to help.
Henry's unamused look faded the more I told the story. He knew exactly what I was talking about.
He leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk, looks up at me, and says, "Nope."
I waited for him to expand, but once again, he left me to marinade in the awkwardness.
"I mean, can you look at least? And even if it's not recorded, don't you think you'd want to put it on record?" I ask, annoyed at his unwillingness to act like he wanted to help.
My frowns and sits back in his chair and says, "Are you telling me how to do my job, rookie? I've been here longer than most of these townsfolks were even conceived," He started to raise his voice the more he talked, "and you come in here after what you did to that poor mother and daughter. Yeah, you didn't think anyone knew?" I knew people were aware, but hearing him say it, it stabbed through my chest like a serrated knife made of ice.
Realizing that he has lost his temper, he calms himself and cleans off his glasses, "Get permission from Forest Supervisor Reggie, and I'll be your personal Google." He looks back down at his computer and continues doing whatever he does.
Still stunned, I stand there, not knowing how to react to this interaction. After a few seconds, I slowly turn around and return to my desk.
The rest of the day is a blur as I try to focus on my other tasks, but Henry's words keep replaying. Every time I close my eyes, I see the footprints and the tree that was torn down. Everyone in this office knows something they aren't telling me.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I muster up the courage to go see Reggie. I knock on his door, and he calls me in. He's an older man with white hair and a kind smile.
"Sir, I-" I say, but before I can continue, Reggie puts his hand up to stop me from talking and chuckles.
"Please, just call me Reg. Sir, sounds like we're in the military." He said as he placed his hand down on his desk.
A little thrown off, I continued telling him about the tree off the hiking trail, footprints, and the cave I found. Just like Henry, Reggie's face dropped as I explained. He stares at me briefly before fixing his face and responding, "Oh, yeah, that sounds like old Grungers Cave. It's probably recorded somewhere."
"Yeah, that's why I'm here. Henry said I needed your permission to get more information about the cave." I reply
He looks at me, puzzled and weary, "What kind of information are you looking for, exactly?"
"Well, I don't really know yet. Something about it gave me a weird feeling, so I thought I'd look into it." I said
Reggie looked at me briefly before changing gears, "With all due respect, you don't have anything else to do?"
I was caught off guard, not expecting him to shut me down like that, "Yeah, you're right. Sorry sir, Uh, Reggie."
I turned around and left the room. As I thought of how to get information without letting anyone at the station know, I decided to try the library.
The library is quiet, with a few people here and there doing their own thing. I asked the librarian if they had anything on Grungers Cave, and she directed me to the local history section. I spend hours pouring over old newspapers, books, and archives, trying to find anything to help me.
One book, written by a local historian, has some information on the cave. According to the author, Grungers Cave was found in 1917 and nothing in particular sticks out except for a short passage that briefly mentions local tales about a giant creature who is said to live near this cave. After about an hour, I gave up and decided to go out there again to see for myself, making sure to bring a flashlight.
As I drive back to the trailhead, I wonder if the stories about the giant creature were just a cover-up for something else. Maybe there was something else in that cave that people didn't want found. Tonight, I'm going to find out.
It's getting dark as I return to the hiking trail and the cave. I can see my breath as I walk, and the air is crisp and cold. The trees loom overhead, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. I can almost feel the presence of whatever has been haunting me since I found that footprint.
I take a deep breath and steady my nerves as I approach the cave entrance. The entrance is narrow and covered in moss, making it appear almost organic. I flick on my flashlight and step inside, bracing myself for what I might find.
The cave's interior is more extensive than I expected, with jagged stalactites hanging from the ceiling like teeth and jutting stalagmites rising from the floor around me like bones. I move further in, feeling a sense of dread creeping up. There's an unsettling silence here, broken only by the echo of my footsteps and the distant sound of water dripping from above.
I shine my flashlight around, searching for anything unusual, and my eyes fall on a large, irregular shape half-hidden in the shadows. As I approach, my heart starts to race. It's a pile of bones, human bones. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. This is a crime scene.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I carefully move around the cave, finding more and more evidence of foul play. The further I go, the more confident I am that something terrible happened here. The bones of at least four people are scattered about, and there are signs of struggle everywhere. I try to remain calm, but I can feel my breath coming faster and faster.
Suddenly, I feel the air get thick as I hear the rumble of big footsteps in the shadows before me. My heart pounds against my ribs as I realize what's about to happen. Before I can react, the creature lunges at me, its massive form filling my vision. Its skin is pale and rough, covered in dirty and matted fur covered in moss and twigs, like it's been living in these caves for centuries. It's a monster, a beast that shouldn't exist in the modern world.
I manage to dodge out of the way, but it's not fast enough to escape its grasp entirely. The creature's claws rake down my arm, tearing through my jacket and leaving long, deep gashes that fill with blood. I stumble backward, feeling the cold, hard stone of the cave floor beneath me. My heart is racing, and all I can hear is the sound of my own panicked breathing.
The creature looms over me, its putrid breath washing over my face as it growls low in its throat. Its eyes are like two burning coals, glinting in the light of my flashlight. It's not human, not anymore. Whatever this creature was once, it's been twisted and warped by whatever horrors it's faced in these caves.
I try to stand, but my legs are weak and shaking. The pain in my arm is excruciating, and I can feel warm blood trickling down my side. The creature circles around me slowly, claws clicking against the stone floor. It seems to be studying me, sizing me up. I can't move, I can't breathe, I can't even scream.
It turns its back, and I take a moment to get on my feet and run out of the cave, hearing the creature's roar echo against the cave walls. I can hear its giant footsteps getting closer and closer until I finally reach the entrance and throw myself out. The creature doesn't follow as I sigh in relief on the floor.
Shaking uncontrollably, I try to catch my breath as I look at my bloody arm. The cut is deep, but I don't think it's life-threatening. I need to get out of here and call for backup, but first, I must find something to use as a tourniquet. I look around and spot a nearby tree, its branches laden with vines. I rip some of the vines off and quickly tie them around my arm, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
Once I'm sure I've done what I can, I return to the station, my heart pounding. My vision is blurry from the pain and shock, but I manage to make it to the front desk. I collapse into a chair, trying to catch my breath. The receptionist looks at me with wide eyes, concerned for my well-being.
"What happened?" she asks, her voice shaking. "Are you okay?"
I try to calm my breathing before responding. "I...I think so. But I need to tell you what I found." I gesture to my bloodied arm, and she jumps to her feet, looking horrified. "No, no, it's not as bad as it looks. Just...get a first aid kit."
She practically runs out of the room, and I lean back in the chair, closing my eyes for a moment. When she returns, she carefully cleans, stitches, and bandages my arm, all the while listening to my story. I told her everything that had happened, but I could tell that she didn't believe me.
"You're sure you didn't imagine this?" she asks, her voice filled with doubt. You should get some rest and reconsider your story in the morning.
I nod, trying to convince myself as much as her. "I know what I saw. It wasn't a dream, and it wasn't a hallucination. That thing...it wasn't an animal. It was some sort of Monster. And it's still out there."
She sighs, looking unconvinced. "Look, I'm sure you've been through a lot tonight. Why don't you just go home and get some rest? We can deal with this in the morning, okay?"
Reluctantly, I agree and head home, hoping word doesn't get around to Reggie that I went back. The rest of the night passes in a blur of nightmares and restless sleep. I can't shake the image of that creature from my mind, and every time I close my eyes, I see its razor-sharp claws and ravenous yellow eyes.
When I finally muster the courage to return to the station the following day, I find that the receptionist didn't report my little expedition after all. Maybe she thought I was crazy too. I feel a strange relief as if admitting my story would make it real.
I make my way to my desk, still shaken from the events of the night before. The station is bustling with activity as usual, but it's difficult for me to focus on anything but the Monster. I try to convince myself that it was just a dream, a hallucination brought on by stress and exhaustion.
I went through my day on autopilot, trying to make it through my shift. When I went home, it was only 8, but I went to sleep as soon as my ass hit the couch. I had dreams of the creature and what it could do to me. I woke up in a cold sweat; looking at the clock, it said 2:03am. I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so I decided to start my morning early by brewing some coffee.
The Monster still plagued my mind as I showered and groomed for the day. I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the injury on my arm itching slightly as I pulled a long-sleeved shirt on to hide them. I didn't want to draw more attention to myself than I already had.
I decided to head to the station since I had nothing else to do. As I drive, I start concocting a plan to get the information from Henry. I knew he wouldn't be in for a few more hours so I could snoop around his office. I park my car and go to his office; I take a deep breath and slowly open the door. The room is just like I remember, messy and full of clues. I sit at his desk, feeling guilty but determined to find what I need to know.
I begin by searching through his files, looking for anything that might have a connection to the secret society. Finding a few files with suspicious names and symbols doesn't take me long. As I flip through them, I notice a hidden drawer in the desk. I pull it open and find a stack of even more incriminating files. They're filled with names, dates, and locations of people who have disappeared, all linked to something called The Covenant of the Hound. I feel a mixture of fear and determination as I slip the files into my bag.
With the evidence in hand, I know I have to do something about this. I can't just ignore it and hope it goes away. I decided to see if I could find anything else on The Covenant of the Hound. I search the dusty shelves and find an old, leather-bound book. The title page reads: "The Covenant of the Hound: Values".
I carefully open the book, expecting to find some twisted code or hidden message. Instead, I'm met with seemingly innocuous paragraphs about loyalty, obedience, and protection. As I read on, however, a darker undertone begins to emerge. The Covenant seems to be less about helping others and more about controlling them. There are mentions of ancient rituals and bloodlines and a monster demanding complete submission from his followers. In return, the Monster provides protection from any threats brought to the members. This had to be the Monster I saw in the cave.
Shaken by what I've read, I quickly close the book and put everything back in place. I can't help but feel a sense of dread as I make it to my desk. I know that I have to do something about this, but at the same time, my mind is running about who exactly is a part of the Covenant.
I decided to start with the files I found earlier and see if I could find any connections between the names on the list and Henry's friends or acquaintances. As I searched through the files, I came across Henry's note that he was meeting someone important early in the morning at a local diner. The time said 4:30am, an hour away. I decide to find the diner and wait for them.
I drive to the diner, parking my car discreetly down the street as I wait until I see them. I watch Henry's car pull up, and another person pulls up behind him. They exchange words before Henry hands something over, and the other man leaves. Henry returned to his car, likely heading to the station, so I did the same.
As I follow him, I can't help but feel a sense of dread in my stomach. I don't know what I will do, but I know I can't let him get away with whatever he's involved in. Maybe if I confront him, he'll tell me the truth. Perhaps he's not part of it, and this was a misunderstanding. But then, why did he have those files on his desk? And why did he meet that man at the diner? I decide to keep the information to myself and act like I know nothing as I park my car at the station.
I walk into the station, trying to act casual and approach the locker room. There's a strange atmosphere in the air today; everyone seems on edge. I quickly change into my uniform and head to my patrol car, hoping to avoid awkward conversations.
As I drive through the forest, I can't help but feel a sense of unease. Every shadow, every movement, every sound makes me jump. I try to push these thoughts away, telling myself that I'm just being paranoid.
When I get to my post, I notice Lauren sitting in her car. Was she waiting for me?
I get out and knock on her window to get her attention, and she rolls it down.
"Hey, you okay?" Lauren asks, noticing the look on my face.
I take a deep breath and try to compose myself before answering. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I think I might have made a huge mistake." I tell her about finding the files in Henry's desk and seeing him at the diner earlier, giving something to a mysterious person. I leave out the part about the Covenant, just in case.
Lauren listens intently, her eyes narrowing as I speak. "And you think Henry's involved in something shady?" she asks.
I nod, feeling a mixture of fear and anger. "I don't know what to think, but I know I can't ignore it."
Lauren sighs, her expression softening. "Look, I can't confirm or deny anything, but I can tell you this: if you're worried about Henry, you should stay away from him. He's not who he seems."
I nod, feeling a mix of relief and fear. "What about you? Can I trust you?"
Lauren gives me a small smile. "You can trust me. I've been watching out for you, even before all this. I want to help you, but we need to be careful. The people you're dealing with are dangerous."
I nod, still not entirely sure what to think. "What do I do now?"
Lauren looks around, making sure no one is watching us. "We need to be careful. I can help you, but you need to trust me. And you need to understand that this goes deeper than you think. The people you're dealing with are powerful and dangerous."
"How do you know that?" I ask hesitantly.
"Let's just say I have my sources," Lauren replies cryptically. "Now, listen carefully. You need to keep your guard up at all times. The people you're dealing with are smart, and they're watching you. They'll try to make contact again, probably through someone close to you. You can't trust anyone."
As she says this, I can't help but feel a chill run down my spine. "So, what am I supposed to do? Just wait for them to make the first move?"
Lauren shakes her head. "No, you need to be proactive. You need to find out more about this secret society. You need to find out what they want from you and why they're after you. You need to figure out how to stop them. If my research is correct, we need to kill the Monster."
I take a deep breath, my heart racing. "Kill the Monster? What do you mean?"
"The secret society is called the Covenant," Lauren explains. "It's been around for generations, and it's behind some of the most horrific events in the town's history. They're led by a man called the Master, who you saw at the diner earlier. He has a pet name for the creature: the Dogman."
I don't know what to do with this information. Ironically, I trust her less now that I'm aware she has ties to this Covenant; even if they're loose ties, it still makes me weary. I try to gather my thoughts, but my mind feels like puzzle pieces. "So, what's our plan?" I ask, not seeing any other direction to turn.
Lauren leans in closer, her expression serious. "Our plan is to kill the monster."
I get into her cruiser, and we drive toward the cave, not knowing if I will make it past today alive.
"I don't understand why they're after me," I say as Lauren navigates the narrow path to the cave. "What do they want from me?"
"You know too much, James, and they know it. You've been asking questions about things you shouldn't have. You were getting close to something they've been trying to keep hidden for a long time. They want to control the information, and they can't do that if you keep digging." Lauren says as she parks the car, and we both get out.
She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before continuing. "They're not going to let you go easily. They'll come after you again, and getting away might not be easy next time. We need to be prepared. You need to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself."
I nod, feeling a mixture of fear and determination welling up inside me. "Okay," I say, taking a deep breath. "Then let's do this."
We approached the entrance to the cave, and I quickly set up bear traps that Lauren had stored in her cruiser. Lauren watches me intently, offering advice and suggestions when needed. As I work, I can't help but feel a strange sense of purpose, as if everything in my life has been leading up to this moment.
Once the traps are set, we both step back, our hearts pounding in our chests, "Now, we just wait." Lauren said
Hours have passed as we sit in a bush, out of sight, and still no creature or signs of anything. Lauren, ever so patiently, is chewing on her fingernails, making my stomach turn. I look at her, and she looks back at me, worry etched on her face. We've been sitting here for an eternity, and I'm curious if I've made the wrong choice. I should have run away, hidden somewhere, and tried to forget about this whole mess. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm not supposed to leave this place, that there's something more I need to do.
Hours pass as we tell each other our life stories. I must admit, at some points, I'd forgotten the danger we were in and found myself having fun. Lauren's an interesting person. She's lived a life of adventure. She's seen things that I can't even begin to imagine. And yet, here she is, sitting beside me, waiting for a monster to come out of a cave.
My eyes grow heavy as the sun starts to set. It's completely night when I open my eyes, and I panic, forgetting where I was and why. As it all starts coming back to me, I look for Lauren, but I don't see her anywhere. I get up, trying to stay quiet, to look at the traps. One is closed and has a blood trail leading to the cave entrance. I frantically look for Lauren but still don't see her. As I peer into the cave, I can see light flickering like the cave was lined with torches the further you go in. I continued to follow the torches with my flashlight in hand when I heard an uneven sound of giant footsteps behind me. When I turn around, I see the vast creature limping into the cave, so I find a crevasse to hide in.
As I carefully peer out, I see the creature limping slowly, periodically stopping to lick its wound. I try to shallow my breath and stay as quiet as possible. The light flickers brighter as it draws closer, and I can see it better now. It's massive, with skin like burnt leather and eyes that glow with an eerie yellow light. Its limbs are like a twisted and deformed wolf, moving with a strange, jerky grace.
As I carefully shift my weight, a small pebble, just big enough to make a noise, tumbles. The creature jerks its body in my direction and roars. It sounds like a mixture of a human screaming and a lion roaring. It takes a step closer to me, its yellow eyes piercing the darkness. I try calming my breathing, praying it doesn't hear or smell me. The creature takes another step and another, inching closer with each move. My heart feels like it's going to beat right out of my chest. I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to face this creature in a fair fight.
Just as I'm sure it's close enough to smell me, I hear what I can only assume is Lauren screaming at the top of her lungs. The creature quickly limps away, further into the cave. I'm momentarily relieved but then realize that I have to find her. I carefully follow the creature's trail, hoping it leads to Lauren. The cave winds deeper and deeper into the mountain, the air growing colder and more damp. As I round a bend, I see a flickering light in the distance. My heart pounds in my chest as I cautiously approach, wondering if it's Lauren or the society.
I enter a pitch-black round room. As I swing my flashlight, I can't see anything in the room until I hear Lauren whisper, "Pssst, James."
I go toward the sound, but I can't find anything. When I turn around, my flashlight catches the creature before me as it lunges toward me. I was able to jump out of the way, just in time, but he was able to scratch my cheek a bit, but nothing life-threatening. On the ground, I frantically search for something to defend myself with, and I find a sharp, long rock and pick it up.
I looked up and saw the creature lunging at me again, but this time, I wasn't fast enough to move as it grabbed me with one hand, tightly by my waist. It lifts me up to its face, but before it can do anything, I plunge the rock into its left eye as it drops me onto the floor.
It roars and stumbles around as it runs into the walls, falling to its knees periodically. I slide my body on my butt until I hit a wall. I get to my feet and follow the wall, making sure to avoid the stumbling creature. I finally found an entrance, but it's different from where I came in. Finally gaining composure, the creature sees me leave and stumbles toward me. I run deeper into the new tunnel, praying it leads to safety.
I hear voices further into it, and I sprint as I make my way into a room of about eight individuals dressed in brown cloaks. Some of them have a hood, hiding their faces. Startled by my entrance, they all look up, and I recognize most faces. Reggie, Henry, Freddy the theater owner, Larry the elementary school principal, and the most surprising one, Lauren.
One of the men I didn't recognize, who looked to be the leader, opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the loud footsteps limping is heard echoing toward us. The man smiles wide and relaxes himself, likely confident he controls the creature. As I hear the footsteps, I run toward what I assume was the exit, but I'm tackled to the ground, and everyone cheers and laughs.
I look up and see Lauren on top of me, the one who tackled me. Her smile is horrifying and not at all like the Lauren I know. She leans close, her breath hot on my face as she whispers, "I'm sorry, James. I had to do it." The creature enters the room, still stumbling as it accidentally crushes two members under its foot, not seeing what it is doing. The leader begins screaming mysterious words that I can't remember, which seems like it snapped the creature out of its destructive ways for a second before realizing the pain in its eye again.
It continues destroying everything in its path indiscriminately, killing most of the Covenant members. Lauren was still on top of me, and neither of us was moving in shock about what we saw. I snapped out of it and used the moment to get the advantage, so I grabbed a nearby rock and hit Lauren over the head with it, causing her to fall to the ground, still conscious but unmoving. I run toward the exit, but I look back one more time and see the creature tearing bodies apart as blood and the screams of something I've never heard in my life fill the room.
As I run, I can faintly hear Lauren begging me to help her, but it turns into a blood-curdling scream that echoes in my ears to this day. Finding my way out took about half an hour, as the cave was like a maze. When I make it out, I head to Lauren's cruiser and dig through her stuff, hoping to find something to help destroy the cave entrance. Finally, after too many minutes, I see a pickaxe, which, thinking about it now, looks pretty odd. But then again, Lauren was never the person I thought she was.
I use the pick and attempt to remove enough rock on the sides so the top will cave in and cover the entrance. I was doing this for about 45 minutes when I heard the faded, limping footsteps of that creature heading out of the cave toward me. I hurried my pace, but I'd already done a good amount of work on both sides. My arms are starting to give, but my mind won't let them quit as I hear the footsteps, which are now accompanied by the roar and growl of the creature getting closer. I only have about 5 more minutes until it makes it to me.
As the growl gets louder, I finally remove enough rock, and it all comes tumbling down on top of the entrance, sealing it shut. I fall backward onto the ground, exhausted and out of breath, as the growling gets louder. When it finally reaches the caved entrance, I can hear it howling and roaring in anger.
Looking around, I see I'm now at the forest's edge. I stand up and walk away, still in shock at what had happened, not knowing where to go.
Walking, I feel something warm and sticky dripping down my arm. I look at it in horror and realize that it's blood. I've been wounded, somehow. I try to remember if it was from Lauren or the creature, but my mind is still reeling from the night's events.
I keep walking, figuring out where to go or what to do. The forest around me is eerily quiet, almost as if it's holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The trees loom overhead, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. I try to remain calm and focus on my surroundings, but the adrenaline from the attack keeps pumping through my veins.
I look down at my arm again and see that the blood is still seeping out, staining my shirt and dripping onto the forest floor. The pain begins to set in, and I realize I have no idea how badly I'm hurt. I can't get to a hospital in time; hell, I don't even know where I am. Feeling weak, I sit with my back against a tree and slowly fall asleep.
When I wake up, I'm in a hospital surrounded by doctors. I feel an immense pain in my arm as they wheel me into the ER. I pass out again and wake up four days later.
Doctors tell me that another ranger found me and brought me in. My heart sank as I thought of the possibility of the Covenant saving me for some reason. I started to panic and asked about discharge, but they told me that they had to do surgery on my arm since it had gotten too infected.
Long story short, I had to be sedated for a month straight, and I lost my arm. Every day, every moment I wasn't sedated was filled with panic. I dreamt of the creature and Lauren. The creature scared me, but Lauren's betrayal hurt me the most. I know I didn't know her for long, but she was the only one there for me. I now realize that she was probably planted to ensure I stayed away, and when she realized I wasn't going to back down, she led me to a trap.
The doctors kept telling me I was lucky to be alive, but I didn't feel lucky. I felt like a failure. A month passed, and I finally fully woke up from the sedation, feeling restless and angry. I demanded a discharge, and after hours of arguing, I was back on the streets.
That was eight years ago, and I still dream of the creature and Lauren every night. Whenever I have trouble with my missing arm, I think of them. At this point in my head, they have become the same Monster.

Previous posts
Introduction/Methodology
236-250
221-235
206-220
191-205
176-190
164-175
155-163
140-154
131-139
121-130
111-120
110-101
100-91
90-81
80-71
70-61
60-51
50-41
Master List
All stats and info through the 2023 season.
I forgot to write an intro for this, and I'm kind of racing to get these done before the playoffs are over, so go ahead and enjoy ten more entries without any of my babbling to precede it.

• 40. Walt Frazier - 335.4
  
  • Career - 247.5
    • 1968-1980
    • NYK, CLE
    • 113.5 Win Shares
    • 0.242 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (1 top-five finish: 1970 - 4th)
    • 4x All-NBA First Team Selection (1970, 1972, 1974, 1975)
    • 2x All-NBA Second Team Selection (1971, 1972)
    • 7x All-Star Selection (1970, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1974, 1975, 1976)
    • 7x All-Defensive First Team Selection (1969, 1970, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1974, 1975)
    • 5.8 Championship Win Shares (2 titles - 1970 NYK, 1973 NYK)
    • 3.3 Finals Win Shares (1 Finals loss - 1972 NYK)
    • 6.0 Conference Finals Win Shares (3 Conf. Finals losses - 1969 NYK, 1971 NYK, 1974 NYK)
  • Peak - 423.3
    • 1970-1974
  • Other achievements
    • NIT champion (1967)
    • NIT MVP (1967)
    • 1x All-Star Game MVP (1975)
    • 5,000 Assist Club (5,040; 71st all-time)
    • 10 retired by the New York Knicks
    • College Basketball Hall of Fame Inductee (2006)
  • Look, I know it's a better "story" that Willis Reed won the 1970 Finals MVP, being the league MVP that season and "coming back" from injury to play Game 7 of the Finals. Except that Reed played 27 minutes of Game 7 and scored four points, three rebounds and an assist, whereas Frazier played 44 minutes and put up 36/7/19. The series averages were a bit more debatable, with Reed going for 23.0/10.5/2.8 while Frazier had 17.6/7.7/10.4. But Frazier played in all seven games to Reed's six. It just really feels like that should've been his Finals MVP that year.
  • The 1973 Finals are much more of a toss-up. Five guys (Bill Bradley, Frazier, Reed, Earl Monroe, and Dave DeBusschere) all averaged between 15.6 and 18.6 for the series. You could probably talk me into any one of those five, but I'd probably go Reed that year.
  • Regardless, and with all due respect to Patrick Ewing, Frazier is probably the greatest Knick in franchise history.
• 39. Dave Cowens - 335.9
  
  • Career - 237.1
    • 1971-1980, 1983
    • BOS, MIL
    • 86.3 Win Shares
    • 1.995 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (4 top-five finishes, 1 win: 1973 - 1st, 1974 - 4th, 1975 - 2nd, 1976 - 3rd)
    • 3x All-NBA Second Team Selection (1973, 1975, 1976)
    • 8x All-Star Selection (1972, 1973, 1974, 1975, 1976, 1977, 1978, 1980)
    • 1x All-Defensive First Team Selection (1976)
    • 4.8 Championship Win Shares (2 titles - 1974 BOS, 1976 BOS)
    • 3.8 Conference Finals Win Shares (4 Conf. Finals losses - 1972 BOS, 1973 BOS, 1975 BOS, 1980 BOS)
  • Peak - 434.8
    • 1972-1976
  • Other achievements
    • Rookie of the Year (1971)
    • 1x All-Star Game MVP (1973)
    • 2x All-Defensive Second Team Selection (1975, 1980)
    • 10,000 Rebound Club (10,444; 36th all-time)
    • 18 retired by the Boston Celtics
    • College Basketball Hall of Fame Inductee (2006)
  • Cowens has the rare and probably never-to-be-matched distinction of being the only MVP winner in NBA history to never make the All-NBA First Team. Bill Russell was the MVP while on the Second Team three times (1958, 1960, 1961), but he made the First Team in other seasons. Cowens was the MVP on the Second Team in 1973, but never did crack the First Team in his career.
  • I know this is probably a bit higher than most people probably rank Cowens, but his peak from 1973-1976 is pretty nuts: one MVP and three more top-five finishes, plus being the best player on one title team (1976) and the second best on another (1974) pulls his score up quite a bit.
• 1. Dwight Howard - 338.7
  • Career - 270.1
    • 2005-2022
    • ORL, LAL, HOU, ATL, CHO, WAS, LAL, PHI, LAL
    • 141.7 Win Shares
    • 1.250 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (4 top-five finishes: 2008 - 5th, 2009 - 4th, 2010 - 4th, 2011 - 2nd)
    • 5x All-NBA First Team Selection (2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012)
    • 1x All-NBA Second Team Selection (2014)
    • 2x All-NBA Third Team Selection (2007, 2013)
    • 8x All-Star Selection (2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014)
    • 3x Defensive Player of the Year (2009, 2010, 2011)
    • 4x All-Defensive First Team Selection (2009, 2010, 2011, 2012)
    • 1.0 Championship Win Shares (1 title - 2020 LAL)
    • 4.5 Finals Win Shares (1 Finals loss - 2009 ORL)
    • 3.4 Conference Finals Win Shares (2 Conf. Finals losses - 2010 ORL, 2015 HOU)
  • Peak - 407.3
    • 2008-2012
  • Other achievements
    • 1x All-Defensive Second Team Selection (2008)
    • T1 League (Taiwan) Most Valuable Import (2023)
    • All-T1 League First Team Selection (2023)
    • T1 League All-Defensive First Team Selection (2023)
    • T1 League All-Star (2023)
    • T1 League All-Star Game MVP (2023)
    • 1x Olympic Gold Medalist (2008)
    • 1x World Cup Bronze Medalist (2006)
    • 10,000 Rebound Club (14,627; 10th all-time)
  • What do we say about Dwight Howard? Amazing defensive presence. Best center of his generation. Not the most offensively gifted player. Not the greatest basketball IQ. Kind of a weirdo? We could go all kinds of different ways here. One thing is definitely certain though: from 2007-2011 (and part of 2012 until he decided he wanted out of Orlando), Howard was one of the 3-5 best players in the game. If he was on your team, you, at the very least, had one of the best defenses in basketball. The Magic's defensive rating those years was 6th, 6th, 1st, 3rd, and 3rd. Could you build an offense around him? No. Did he realize this? Unfortunately, no. That was his ultimate downfall is he wanted to be the offensive star just by virtue of being the defensive star, but didn't have the skill set for it. But surround him with shooters, almost against his will, and that's a very dangerous team. If he was anchoring a 3-and-D team in today's game, they would be legitimately scary.
  • Even after saying all of that, I think Howard's nomad years hurt his legacy more than anything, and I'm not entirely sure why. If it was the prevailing wisdom that nobody wanted him, or that he couldn't make it work anywhere, or what, but his post 2012 career adds virtually nothing to his score. Even the 2020 title only gives him 12 points, which isn't much in the grand scheme of things. I don't know. Sometimes I feel like we should give him more credit for wanting to keep playing so badly (even to the point of playing in Taiwan and, currently, Puerto Rico), but it's just this odd misfit characterization that he can't shake.
  • And even after saying all of that, his exclusion from the 75th Anniversary Team invalidates that entire project for me. To the point that I made my own NBA75 list just for my own peace of mind. (And a good time to remind everyone that was not the NBA's actual 75th anniversary the year they did that., but we're entrenched now and it'll probably never be corrected.)
• 37. George Gervin - 342.2
  
  • Career - 277.5
    • 1973-1976 (ABA), 1977-1986
    • VIR, SAA/SAS, CHI
    • 88.1 Win Shares
    • 1.860 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (4 top-five finishes: 1978 - 2nd, 1979 - 2nd, 1980 - 3rd, 1981 - 5th)
    • 5x All-NBA First Team Selection (1978, 1979, 1980, 1981, 1982)
    • 2x All-NBA Second Team Selection (1977, 1983)
    • 9x All-Star Selection (1977, 1978, 1979, 1980, 1981, 1982, 1983, 1984, 1985)
    • 4.0 Conference Finals Win Shares (3 Conf. Finals losses - 1979 SAS, 1982 SAS, 1983 SAS)
    • 28.2 ABA Win Shares
    • 2x All-ABA Second Team Selection (1975, 1976)
    • 3x ABA All-Star Selection (1974, 1975, 1976)
    • 1.4 ABA Conference Finals Win Shares (1 Conf. Finals loss - 1976 SAA)
  • Peak - 406.8
    • 1978-1982
  • Other achievements
    • 1x All-Star Game MVP (1980)
    • 20,000 Point Club (20,708; 45th all-time)
    • 44 retired by the San Antonio Spurs
    • College Basketball Hall of Fame Inductee (2006)
  • Maybe a bit too high for Gervin, but not much. He was amazing. He's getting the upper-echelon ABA boost that I talked about with Artis Gilmore, though not nearly to as strong of a degree. But how can you not love a player who's profile boils down to "he was nicknamed 'The Iceman' and invented the finger roll"?
  • Gervin also had a bit of a winding career to the NBA. He went to Eastern Michigan University, which was a Division II school at the time. In 1972 as a sophomore, Gervin led the team to the Final Four of the Division II tourney, where he then punched an opposing player and got himself suspended for a full season.
  • Rather than stay at EMU, Gervin went to the Pontiac Chaparrals of the Continental Basketball Association. (This was a different Continental Basketball Association than the one Isiah Thomas drove into the ground in the late 1990s/early 2000s, which originally grew out of the Eastern Basketball Association. This CBA was founded in the Great Lakes area in the 1970s as a way to keep local semi-professional football players in shape in the offseason.)
  • From there, Gervin was scouted by a few ABA teams, but signed with the Virginia Squires prior to the 1973 season. The next season, the Squires started to go under financially, and traded Gervin to the San Antonio Spurs for something like $250,000.
  • At this point, prior to the 1975 season, Gervin was eligible for the NBA draft, and was drafted by the Suns, but he decided to stay with the Spurs. (At this point in time, players were not allowed to go to the NBA prior to completing four years of college. There were some "hardship exceptions," but they were incredibly byzantine and hard to get approved. Gervin would've been a senior in 1974, so, since his college eligibility was now up, despite having played professionally for multiple years, his name went into the 1974 draft.)
  • Then, since he was already on the Spurs when the leagues merged, he just stayed there. (Sorry, Phoenix.) As a side note, the "Final Four" of the final ABA season in 1976 was nuts. They got rid of conferences, for one thing, so you had the Gervin-led Spurs against the Julius Erving-led Nets in one semifinal, and the David Thompson/Dan Issel-led Nuggets against the Artis Gilmore-led Kentucky Colonels in the other. Eventually, Erving outdueled Thompson as the Nets beat the Nuggets in six games. It's just weird when you compare it to the NBA for the same year. The East was a fairly loaded Celtics team (Cowens, John Havlicek, Jo Jo White, etc) against a Cavaliers team with a 34-year-old Nate Thurmond as probably the only player an average basketball fan would recognize. And in the West, the Paul Westphal-led Suns stunned the Rick Barry-led Warriors. (Boston over Phoenix in six in those Finals.) As much as the NBA would like to have you believe they bailed out those ABA teams by absorbing them, the league desperately needed the influx of talented players.
  • Anyway, Gervin played ten years in the NBA altogether (and still got to 20,000 points without even including his ABA numbers), including a final season in Chicago with a young Michael Jordan in 1986.
  • Gervin then played a year in Italy, a year back in the states with the Quad City Thunder of the Continental Basketball Association (this time it is the one Isiah Thomas bankrupted), and then a year in Spain before retiring at 38.
• 36. Kawhi Leonard - 349.1
  
  • Career - 260.1
    • 2012-2021, 2023
    • SAS, TOR, LAC
    • 90.4 Win Shares
    • 1.160 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (3 top-five finishes: 2016 - 2nd, 2017 - 3rd, 2020 - 5th)
    • 3x All-NBA First Team Selection (2016, 2017, 2021)
    • 2x All-NBA Second Team Selection (2019, 2020)
    • 5x All-Star Selection (2016, 2017, 2019, 2020, 2021)
    • 2x Defensive Player of the Year (2015, 2016)
    • 3x All-Defensive First Team Selection (2015, 2016, 2017)
    • 7.8 Championship Win Shares (2 titles - 2014 SAS, 2019 TOR)
    • 3.1 Finals Win Shares (1 Finals loss - 2013 SAS)
    • 4.0 Conference Finals Win Shares (3 Conf. Finals losses - 2012 SAS, 2017 SAS, 2021 LAC)
    • 2x Finals MVP (2014, 2019)
  • Peak - 438.1
    • 2016-2020
  • Other achievements
    • 1x All-Star Game MVP (2020)
    • 4x All-Defensive Second Team Selection (2014, 2019, 2020, 2021)
  • Leonard being this high was somewhat surprising to me, because you kind of just think "all that for one (admittedly incredible) championship run? So let's break this down a little bit.
  • In my mind, there's pre-superstar Spurs Kawhi, superstar Raptors Kawhi, and always-injured Clippers Kawhi. But that's not entirely accurate. His first Finals MVP was definitely in his pre-superstar days, but after that, San Antonio Kawhi was a monster. He finished top three in MVP voting twice and was a two-time Defensive Player of the Year. In 2016, he became the seventh player to win Defensive Player of the Year while also averaging at least 20 points per game. Dwight Howard (twice), Michael Jordan, Sidney Moncrief (twice), Alonzo Mourning (twice), Hakeem Olajuwon (twice), and David Robinson were the players who had done it before. (And Giannis Antetokounmpo has done it since, for eight players altogether.) He was also the best player on a 67-win team. (2016 was nuts. There have only been four teams to win 67+ games and not win the title, and two of them happened in 2016. The 1973 Celtics won 68 games and lost in the Conference Finals, and the 2007 Mavericks won 67 games and lost in the first round, to go along with the 2016 Spurs and Warriors.)
  • Then we had Toronto Kawhi, where the regular season didn't really matter much, but who had 4.9 win shares in the playoffs, which is the seventh-most in a single playoff run, behind Tim Duncan in 2003 (5.9), LeBron James in 2012 (5.8), Dirk Nowitzki in 2006 (5.4), LeBron in 2013 (5.2), LeBron in 2018 (5.2), and Nikola Jokic in 2023 (5.0).
  • Then we have Clippers Kawhi, who is still undeniably good, but hasn't reached those same levels as 2016-2019. 2020 was close - he finished fifth in MVP voting that year, but the Clippers deciding the bubble was a sham (I guess?) kind of killed anything they had there and he's been hurt since. The Clippers did make the Conference Finals in 2021, but Kawhi got hurt in the playoffs, so he didn't actually play in the Conference Finals that year (but he does get credit for his playoff performance up to his injury that year, however.) All in all, his Clippers tenure doesn't really add a whole lot to his legacy.
• 35. Steve Nash - 354.6
  
  • Career - 275.2
    • 1997-2014
    • PHO, DAL, PHO, LAL
    • 129.7 Win Shares
    • 2.429 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (3 top-five finishes, 2 wins: 2005 - 1st, 2006 - 1st, 2007 - 2nd)
    • 3x All-NBA First Team Selection (2005, 2006, 2007)
    • 2x All-NBA Second Team Selection (2008, 2010)
    • 2x All-NBA Third Team Selection (2002, 2003)
    • 8x All-Star Selection (2002, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2010, 2012)
    • 8.4 Conference Finals Win Shares (4 Conf. Finals losses - 2003 DAL, 2005 PHO, 2006 PHO, 2010 PHO)
  • Peak - 434.0
    • 2004-2008
  • Other achievements
    • 2x WCC Player of the Year (1995, 1996)
    • 1x Citizenship Award (2007)
    • 1x AmeriCup Silver Medalist (1999)
    • 1x AmeriCup Bronze Medalist (2001)
    • 5,000 Assist Club (10,335; 5th all-time)
    • 13 retired by the Phoenix Suns
    • FIBA Hall of Fame Inductee (2020)
  • Nash is my highest-rated player to never play in the Finals, which is kind of crazy to think about just how many great players have at least played in the Finals, if not won a championship.
  • A lot of people say Kyle Lowry is the prime example of a "late bloomer" in the NBA, but I really think Nash is the prototype. Yes, he made a couple All-Star teams and All-NBA Third Teams in Dallas, but going from that to the MVP in Phoenix felt like it came out of nowhere. I mean, imagine if, say, Julius Randle switched teams next year and won the MVP. That's what Nash's MVP season felt like. And then he arguably kept getting better.
• 34. Chris Paul - 359.2
  
  • Career - 354.0
    • 2006-2023
    • NOK/NOH, LAC, HOU, OKC, PHO
    • 205.1 Win Shares
    • 1.808 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (5 top-five finishes: 2008 - 2nd, 2009 - 5th, 2012 - 3rd, 2013 - 4th, 2021 - 5th)
    • 4x All-NBA First Team Selection (2008, 2012, 2013, 2014)
    • 5x All-NBA Second Team Selection (2009, 2015, 2016, 2020, 2021)
    • 2x All-NBA Third Team Selection (2011, 2022)
    • 12x All-Star Selection (2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2020, 2021, 2022)
    • 7x All-Defensive First Team Selection (2009, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017)
    • 2.5 Finals Win Shares (1 Finals loss - 2021 PHO)
    • 2.1 Conference Finals Win Shares (1 Conf. Finals loss - 2018 HOU)
  • Peak - 364.4
    • 2012-2016
  • Other achievements
    • Rookie of the Year (2006)
    • 1x All-Star Game MVP (2013)
    • 2x All-Defensive Second Team selection (2008, 2011)
    • 2x Olympic Gold Medalist (2008, 2012)
    • 1x World Cup Bronze Medalist (2006)
    • 20,000 Point Club (21,755; 37th all-time)
    • 5,000 Assist Club (11,501; 3rd all-time)
  • Paul's late career resurgence was something I did not see coming. I thought his career was basically done by the end of his Clippers tenure, and that anyone taking on his huge contract was just desperately hoping to recapture some faded magic of a big name. But nope! He did well in Houston, he was an All-Star in Oklahoma City, he helped get Phoenix to the Finals. It really was quite the master class in "floor general"-ism.
• 33. Dwyane Wade - 376.0
  
  • Career - 314.1
    • 2004-2019
    • MIA, CHI, CLE, MIA
    • 120.7 Win Shares
    • 0.794 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (2 top-five finishes: 2009 - 3rd, 2010 - 5th)
    • 2x All-NBA First Team Selection (2009, 2010)
    • 3x All-NBA Second Team Selection (2005, 2006, 2011)
    • 3x All-NBA Third Team Selection (2007, 2012, 2013)
    • 13x All-Star Selection (2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2019)
    • 9.7 Championship Win Shares (3 titles - 2006 MIA, 2012 MIA, 2013 MIA)
    • 4.9 Finals Win Shares (2 Finals losses - 2011 MIA, 2014 MIA)
    • 2.1 Conference Finals Win Shares (1 Conf. Finals loss - 2005 MIA)
    • 1x Finals MVP (2006)
  • Peak - 437.9
    • 2009-2013
  • Other achievements
    • Conference USA Player of the Year (2003)
    • 1x All-Star Game MVP (2010)
    • 3x All-Defensive Second Team Selection (2005, 2009, 2010)
    • 1x Olympic Gold Medalist (2008)
    • 1x Olympic Bronze Medalist (2004)
    • 1x World Cup Bronze Medalist (2006)
    • 20,000 Point Club (23,165; 32nd all-time)
    • 5,000 Assist Club (5,701; 47th all-time)
    • 3 retired by the Miami Heat
  • There is an argument to be made that Wade is the third-best shooting guard of all time. This argument largely hinges on whether or not you consider Jerry West and/or James Harden to be shooting guards. I would say West was a point guard who sometimes played shooting guard, and Harden was a shooting guard who sometimes played point guard. But regardless, if you want to count both of those guys as "combo guards" or whatever, then Wade has to be third on the "pure shooting guard" ranking list.
• 32. Dolph Schayes - 376.8
  
  • Career - 341.7
    • 1950-1964
    • SYPHI
    • 141.8 Win Shares
    • 1.196 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (3 top-five finishes: 1956 - 5th, 1957 - 4th, 1958 - 2nd)
    • 6x All-NBA First Team Selection (1952, 1953, 1954, 1955, 1957, 1958)
    • 6x All-NBA Second Team Selection (1950, 1951, 1956, 1959, 1960, 1961)
    • 12x All-Star Selection (1951, 1952, 1953, 1954, 1955, 1956, 1957, 1958, 1959, 1960, 1961, 1962)
    • 1.8 Championship Win Shares (1 title - 1955 SYR)
    • 4.1 Finals Win Shares (2 Finals losses - 1950 SYR, 1954 SYR)
    • 6.7 Conference Finals Win Shares (6 Conf. Finals losses - 1951 SYR, 1952 SYR, 1956 SYR, 1957 SYR, 1959 SYR, 1961 SYR)
  • Peak - 411.9
    • 1954-1958
  • Other achievements
    • NBL Rookie of the Year (1949)
    • 10,000 Rebound Club (11,256; 29th all-time)
    • 4 retired by the Philadelphia 76ers
    • 1x Coach of the Year (1966)
  • Dolph Schayes was born in 1928. That's important to the story because Dolph Schayes' full name is "Adolph." It's pretty easy to imagine a young Adolph Schayes in the 1940s grabbing a newspaper and saying "well, son of a bitch..." Now, there aren't a lot of famous "Dolph's" out there, but when I looked up the name to try to find more famous examples, there are a few, mostly athletes, and then Dolph Lundgren. All have the full name "Adolph," and all except Lundgren were born before World War II. And you really have to admire the balls of Dolph Lundgren's parents, who, in 1957, decided to give their baby the name of the most notorious mass murderer in history, and thought, "we're taking the name back!" And I mean, it's a pretty cool name if you've got Old English or German roots - it's a portmanteau of "noble" and "wolf," so if you wanted to name your son something badass, "Adolph" was a good bet. Just one more thing Hitler ruined for everyone.
• 31. Bob Cousy - 390.4
  
  • Career - 353.2
    • 1951-1963, 1970
    • BOS, CIN
    • 91.1 Win Shares
    • 1.747 Adjusted MVP Award Shares (4 top-five finishes, 1 win: 1956 - 3rd, 1957 - 1st, 1959 - 4th, 1960 - 4th)
    • 10x All-NBA First Team Selection (1952, 1953, 1954, 1955, 1956, 1957, 1958, 1959, 1960, 1961)
    • 2x All-NBA Second Team Selection (1962, 1963)
    • 13x All-Star Selection (1951, 1952, 1953, 1954, 1955, 1956, 1957, 1958, 1959, 1960, 1961, 1962, 1963)
    • 4.7 Championship Win Shares (6 titles - 1957 BOS, 1959 BOS, 1960 BOS, 1961 BOS, 1962 BOS, 1963 BOS)
    • 1.5 Finals Win Shares (1 Finals loss - 1958 BOS)
    • 1.4 Conference Finals Win Shares (3 Conf. Finals losses - 1953 BOS, 1954 BOS, 1955 BOS)
  • Peak - 427.6
    • 1957-1961
  • Other achievements
    • NCAA champion (1947)
    • 2x All-Star Game MVP (1954, 1957)
    • 5,000 Assist Club (6,955; 21st all-time)
    • 14 retired by the Boston Celtics
    • College Basketball Hall of Fame Inductee (2006)
  • Cousy had one of the coolest nicknames ever, which was "The Houdini of the Hardwood," and if you ever go find some highlights of some of his moves, and keep in mind the rules for palming and carrying the ball while he played were extremely strict, I think you'd be legitimately amazed at some of the stuff he was doing in the 1950s.
  • I should note that Cousy's "peak" years here (1957-1961) probably don't coincide with his actual peak as a player. It's just that those seasons are the years the MVP started getting voted on, so Cousy gets far more points in those seasons than he does in his earlier seasons. (Also note Cousy's score would probably be a little higher had MVP voting been around for his entire career.)