26/01/2014 - WWE Royal Rumble
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Commentated by Jim Ross, JBL, and Michael Cole
We see some footage of superstars arriving to the arena today. The Authority arrive in a limousine; WWE Champion Randy Orton, Triple H, Stephanie McMahon, and Kane. Daniel Bryan is shown walking with Brie Bella. "The Animal" Batista shows up in a truck and flexes for the camera. The feed cuts and glitches out revealing a dark room with a empty rocking chair moving slowly. "We're here."
The iconic voice of Jim Ross welcomes us to the 2014 Royal Rumble as pyro erupts from the stage and the fans go wild. The Authority's music plays and the mood quickly shifts, the crowd rains down boo's. Here comes the WWE World Champion Randy Orton. Orton talks trash to some fans in the front row while Triple H, Stephanie McMahon, and Kane make their way out as well. Orton raises the title as HHH passes him a microphone. Orton is in a great mood tonight. He's got the night off and there will be 30 men all vying for a chance to get RKO'ed in the main event of Wrestlemania 30. The crowd chants, “Daniel Bryan” as Orton laughs and promises that Bryan doesn't stand a chance. If you want to win the Royal Rumble you have to be taller than these marks in the crowd, you can't be a front row wrestler like Daniel Bryan or CM Punk. The crowd breaks into a deafening “DANIEL BRYAN/CM PUNK!” chant as Orton highlights some of the past winners like himself, Triple H, and Batista. True superstars who all pass the airport test. Triple H takes the microphone and tells the fans to shut the hell up and respect greatness. The reason The Authority are out here is because they want an answer from Batista. Will The Animal join them, take the #30 spot, and win the Rumble to make the biggest Wrestlemania main event a reality? Batista's music hits and he gets a great reaction. First of all, Batista thanks the Pittsburgh fans and everyone in the WWE for welcoming him back with open arms. Batista has a ton of respect for Triple H and Orton after all those years in Evolution. They all shake hands and it looks like he's accepting the offer. Triple H tells Batista to make the right decision and do whats best for business. Batista gives the THUMBS UP! The Authority are all psyched up until.... Batista, who still has his thumb in the air, says "What's best for business.... is listening to these fans! Doing things the hard way, the same way he did it through his whole career. Batista didn't come back to be handed anything, he came back to prove he can still be The Animal. The man who beat Triple H in the main event of Wrestlemania.... The thumbs up is turned into a THUMBS DOWN! Kane charges at Batista but gets clotheslined! Randy Orton and Tripe H flee from the ring as The Animal delivers a Spinebuster to Kane and rattles the ropes! Triple H screams that Batista is going to regret this decision.....
A video package of the feud between Divas Champion AJ Lee and Mickie James is next. After AJ Lee defeated Naomi to retain her title on RAW, AJ declared she had no competition in the locker room. Cue the surprise return of Mickie James! Former psycho versus current psycho, legend versus future legend. They exchange verbal barbs over the next few weeks, with Mickie picking up some big wins and earning a title match. During a contract signing on the final RAW before the Royal Rumble, things finally turned physical and Mickie put AJ Lee through a table with a huge bulldog from the top rope! Everything comes to a head tonight with the championship on the line.
Tony Chimel lets us know that this contest is scheduled for one fall as Mickie James makes her entrance and gets emotional at the ovation from the audience in Pittsburgh. Divas Champion AJ Lee is next and she gets a mixed reaction; the fans love her but are definitely backing Mickie in this one.
AJ Lee (c) vs. Mickie James for the WWE Divas Championship
The match kicks off with AJ slapping Mickie across the face! James returns the favour and tackles AJ, raining down a flurry of punches. AJ Lee cowers into the corner but then takes advantage by slamming Mickie to the mat by her hair! AJ taunts Mickie and stomps her in the corner but when the champion charges, Mickie backdrops her over the ropes! Mickie hits a Thez Press from the apron and tosses AJ into the barricade!
They battle on the apron until AJ sends Mickie head first into the ringpost. Mickie seems genuinely hurt and the referee goes to check on her, allowing AJ to expose the turnbuckle on the opposite side of the ring. She shows no regard for her possibly injured challenger, ignoring the ref and dragging Mickie back into the centre of the ring. Out of nowhere, James nails the Mick Kick! AJ is down! 1-2-AJ gets her foot underneath the bottom rope! James goes for the Stratus-faction but AJ Lee launches her into the exposed turnbuckle! Mickie James is out cold! 1-2-3! AJ retains!
Result- AJ Lee wins by pinfall via exposed turnbuckle shot. (12:58)
The Royal Rumble tumbler is back! Stephanie McMahon is overseeing things as superstars enter to pick their spots in the Royal Rumble. We see Alberto Del Rio, Brodus Clay, and other superstars pick their numbers. Triple H and Paul Heyman in the background; they shake hands and it appears that HHH hands Heyman something before he walks off.
"The American Dream" Dusty Rhodes is here! He introduces his sons, the WWE World Tag Team Champions Cody Rhodes and Goldust! The champions hug their father and make their way to the ring for a Six Pack Challenge Elimination Match! After being on the wrong side of The Authority, The Rhodes Brothers have been put in quite the predicament as they look to retain their title's against all odds.
Cody Rhodes and Goldust (c) vs. The New Age Outlaws vs. The Prime Time Players vs. Truth & Consequences vs. Hunico and Camacho vs. The Uso's in a Six Pack Challenge Elimination Match for the WWE World Tag Team Championship
Everything breaks down right off the bat. Bodies are flying everywhere. The Uso's hit a pair of dives over the ropes onto a pile of opponents. Back in the ring Hunico and Camacho eat a pair of Superkicks. Uso Splash to Hunico! 1-2-3!
Jey Uso pins Hunico via Uso Splash (Hunico and Camacho are eliminated)
The Prime Time Players take their turn dominating. Titus hits a Sit-Out Spinebuster to Billy Gunn. Darren Young launches Road Dogg from the ring and dropkicks an incoming Jimmy Uso. Xavier Woods comes out of nowhere with a springboard DDT on Titus O'Neil! Darren Young gets hit with a spinning elbow from R-Truth! Woods and Truth connect with a double Scissor Kick on Titus for the 3 count.
R-Truth pins Titus O'Neil via Double Scissors Kick (The Prime Time Players are eliminated)
Road Dogg chopblocks R-Truth immediately and throws him into the ringpost. Woods gets some shots in on Dogg but turns around into a Fameasser from Billy Gunn! 1-2-3!
Billy Gunn pins Xavier Woods via Fameasser (Truth & Consequences are eliminated)
Road Dogg grabs one of the tag title belts and brings it in the ring. The referee tries to stop him but Billy warns the referee that Triple H will fire him if he gets in their way. Billy holds Goldust as Road Dogg charges with the title ---- Goldust low blows Billy Gunn and ducks; Road Dogg knocks out Billy Gunn with the title belt! Cody Rhodes grabs Road Dogg and hits the Cross Rhodes!
Cody Rhodes pins Billy Gunn via Cross Rhodes (The New Age Outlaws are eliminated)
We are down to two teams. The Rhodes Brothers and The Uso's. The teams gather themselves in opposite corners as the crowd swells to a fever pitch. All four slug it out in the middle. Double Superkick to Goldust sends him to the floor. Cody hits the Bionic Elbow to Jimmy! Alabama Slam to Jey! Cody is all fired up! Cody goes for the Cross Rhodes but nearly gets pinned on a roll up. Double Superkick to Cody! Both The Uso's climb to the top rope but Goldust comes back in and drops Jimmy right on his yambags! Goldust meets Jey on the other side and delivers a giant superplex! BUT JIMMY RECOVERS AND FLIES OFF THE TOP! USO SPLASH TO GOLDUST! 1-2-CODY BREAKS UP THE PIN! Cody hits a Disaster Kick to Jimmy but gets Superkicked by Jey! With his last gasp of energy, Goldust nails Jey with the Final Cut! 1-2-3! Cody and Goldust retain!
Goldust pins Jey Uso via The Final Cut
Result- Cody Rhodes and Goldust retain the WWE World Tag Team Championship. (15:59)
CM Punk is taping his wrists in the locker room when Corporate Kane approaches with a bunch of security. Punk stands up ready to defend himself. But Kane tells him to calm down. He's here with a gift from The Authority. Kane hands Punk a Rumble number from the tumbler and tells him on behalf of The Authority, they wish him luck tonight. Kane leaves as punk opens the ball and shakes his head.
A video package showcases the rivalry between the United States Champion Dean Ambrose and Rob Van Dam. After RVD became # 1 Contender, The Shield brutalized him in a 3 on 1 beatdown. The next week, Rob Van Dam attacked Ambrose with a steel chair and delivered a devastating Van Daminator. Ambrose got busted open but the blood seemed to turn him into some kind of maniac. A bloodied Ambrose cut an iconically intense promo backstage in the boiler room where he challenged RVD to a Hardcore match at the Royal Rumble. Rob Van Dam accepted and began to tap into his hardcore style, even going as far as to bring back his old friend Sabu to help him fend off repeated attacks by The Shield. Tonight this rivalry concludes in a Hardcore match for the US Championship.
Dean Ambrose (c) vs. Rob Van Dam for the United States Championship in a Hardcore Match
Van Dam starts off hot with a barrage of kicks to Ambrose. RVD hits his signature barricade legdrop from the apron! He pulls out a kendo stick and starts unloading on the champion. Ambrose stops the beating by raking RVD's eyes and then snapping the kendo stick in half. Ambrose goes berserk, stabbing RVD with the sharp part of the broken kendo stick repeatedly in the corner as JR tells the TV audience to put their kids to bed because "this match is going to be bowling shoe ugly folks". Van Dam slides out of the ring and we see he's bleeding profusely. Ambrose stalks his prey on the outside but RVD tosses a steel chair full speed at his head! RVD goes under the ring and grabs a couple of trash cans and a lid. He smashes Ambrose over the head with the lid and throws him in the ring. RVD sets up a table on the outside but is momentarily distracted, trying to wipe the blood out of his eyes which allows Ambrose to crush one of the trash cans over Van Dam's head. Like a shark that smells blood in the water, Ambrose pounces on RVD and unloads punches to his open cut. The referee pulls him off and checks on RVD. But Ambrose is not done. Far from it. He goes under the ring and grabs a barbed wired baseball bat! As he gets in the ring, RVD kicks the barbed wired bat into Ambrose's face! Spike DDT! Van Dam puts a trash can over Ambrose's head and props him in the corner. VAN TERMINATOR WITH A STEEL CHAIR INTO THE TRASH CAN! RVD slowly drapes his arm over Ambrose. 1-2-Dean somehow kicks out! They exchange punches in the middle of the ring until Ambrose bites RVD's bloody head!!! RVD punches Ambrose just to get him off of him but Dean rebounds with a lariat that turns RVD inside out! Instead of going for the pin, Ambrose picks up the barbed wired baseball bat and smashes RVD in the back repeatedly! Van Dam rolls to the apron but Ambrose follows him and starts grinding the barbed wire in RVD's face! Using the pure adrenaline of survival instinct, RVD reverses into a suplex over the ropes, sending he and Ambrose crashing through the table on the outside!
The fans chant "Holy shit!" as the announcers question how much more these guys, specifically RVD, can take. RVD is first to his feet and throws Ambrose in the ring. RVD climbs to the top rope but Ambrose hits the ropes and causes him to lose balance. He tosses RVD off the top rope onto a trash can! Ambrose goes under the ring and grabs a bag..... The referee tries to stop him but Ambrose shoves him to the ground and empties the contents all over the ring ---- IT'S THUMBTACKS! He turns around and catches a steel chair hurled at him by RVD! VAN TERMINATOR! Ambrose falls into the tacks! RVD goes up top! FIVE STAR FROG SPLASH INTO THE TACKS! "BY GAWD!" Cover! 1-2-Ambrose kicks out by shoving a handful of tacks into RVD's face! Van Dam screams in pain as a now bloody Ambrose pulls himself to his feet and smiles. DIRTY DEEDS ON THE TACKS! 1-2-3!
Result- Dean Ambrose wins by pinfall via Dirty Deeds onto thumbtacks! (22:22)
Rob Van Dam is taken out on a stretcher as Dean Ambrose sits bloodied in the corner, with thumbtacks all over him and the United States Title over his shoulder, admiring his work.
Writer's Note: This match writes RVD out for the foreseeable future to give him a well deserved break. Ambrose is put over as a sadistic, hardcore, psycho path on RVD's way out.
We cut backstage where Mark Henry and The Big Show are picking their numbers. Stephanie McMahon plays nice with the legendary giants, telling them that there are always advantages to helping The Authority. Mark Henry laughs her off and walks out but Big Show appears to contemplate her words. Daniel Bryan walks in and has a face off with Triple H. Bryan wants to pick his Rumble number but HHH tells him there's only one ball left. He teases not giving it to him but places it in his hands. Bryan opens it, shakes his head and smiles, saying he wouldn't expect anything less from The Authority.
A video package on the history of the Royal Rumble match is next, highlighting past winners, elimination records, and obscure statistics. Ladies and gentlemen. We promised you a great main event.
Main Event- 30 Man Royal Rumble Match
1. Daniel Bryan
2. CM Punk
The two heroes of our story; enemies of The Authority that have been given the insurmountable task of winning from the opening spots if they want to main event Wrestlemania. They slug it out and the fans love every second of it.
3. Big E Langston
The Intercontinental Champion gets a chance to showcase his abilities in full spotlight. He tosses Bryan and Punk around much to the chagrin of the crowd. Punk and Bryan team up to stop the onslaught and slow the big man down.
4. Mark Henry
The World's Strongest Man double clotheslines Punk and Bryan before squaring up with Big E. The two meaty men begin slappin' meat until Henry squashes the IC Champion in the corner and takes advantage.
5. Alexander Rusev
The Bulgarian Brute from NXT goes nose to nose with Mark Henry. Rusev kicks Henry in the head and then charges full speed, clobbering him and sending Mark crashing from the ring for our first official elimination of the night!
Alexander Rusev eliminates Mark Henry
6. Evan Bourne
Bourne quickens the pace of the match and hits a barrage of high flying moves until he meets the brick wall known as Rusev. Rusev gets Bourne in a precarious position and clotheslines him so hard that he takes a nasty backflip bump off the apron ala Paul London 2005.
Alexander Rusev eliminates Evan Bourne
Rusev turns around and realizes he's surrounded by Bryan, Punk, and Big E! He fights valiantly but it's no use. YES+ Knee by Bryan! Rusev is rocked but still standing! GTS by Punk! Rusev is STILL somehow on his feet but falls back against the ropes ..... A clothesline from Big E sends Rusev over the ropes for another elimination!
Big E Langston eliminates Alexander Rusev
7. Alberto Del Rio w/Ricardo Rodriguez
As a former World Champion and Royal Rumble winner, Del Rio has to be considered dangerous in this match. He hits a nasty double foot stomp on Big E and trash talks the fans as they boo him out of the building. Bryan and Punk hit a Hart Attack on Del Rio to a massive pop!
8. Kevin Nash
It looks like The Authority have a couple of tricks up their sleeve tonight. Nash immediately targets Punk and Bryan, savouring the boo's from the audience. Meanwhile, Big E nearly has Del Rio eliminated until Rodriguez hops on the apron and allows Del Rio to get the advantage by jamming him thumb in Big E's eye! Del Rio kicks Big E in the face and eliminates the Intercontinental Champion!
Alberto Del Rio eliminates Big E Langston
Del Rio and Nash team up to beat down Punk and Bryan.
9. John Cena
Business is about to pick up! Cena hits the ring and takes the fight to Del Rio and Nash! AA to Del Rio! Nash immediately takes Cena down with a big boot and mocks the fans, pretending to cry. Jackknife Powerbomb to Cena! Nash tosses Punk over the ropes but Punk skins the cat and starts kicking Nash in his surgically repaired knee's.
10. Big Show
Nash throws Punk into the ring post and has a face off with The World's Largest Athlete. Nash extends his hand, wondering if Show is going to take The Authority up on their offer. Big Show teases joining him --- psych! Knockout Punch by Big Show! Nash crumples to the mat. The fans love it as Big Show gets hyped up and then starts chopping Del Rio in the corner.
11. X-Pac
Another surprise return! But is this another legend doing the bidding of The Authority? Pac does some crotch chops and gets a good reaction as he fist bumps The Big Show and hits a Bronco Buster to Del Rio! But X-Pac cannot be trusted as he kicks Big Show right in the family jewels! Kevin Nash pulls himself to his feet and two sweets X-Pac! Nash goes to stomping on The Big Show as Pac charges for a Bronco Buster on Punk ---- Cena takes X-Pac's head off with a clothesline and then AA's him from the ring!
John Cena eliminates X-Pac
Cena, Punk, and Bryan all attack Kevin Nash and buy enough time for Big Show to recover. Show grabs Nash by the throat and pushes him back over the ropes!
Big Show eliminates Kevin Nash
Show, Cena, Punk, Bryan, and Del Rio all fight and try to eliminate each other as the buzzer sounds for the next entrant.
12. Bray Wyatt
The mood has shifted in the arena! Bray Wyatt comes in like an absolute killer, wrecking everyone in his path. Sister Abigail to CM Punk! Daniel Bryan is the last one standing and the crowd breaks out into thunderous "YES!" chants as Bryan and Wyatt exchange stiff slaps and beat the piss out of each other!
13. Erick Rowan
A coincidence or the puppet strings of The Authority? The Wyatt Family now has two members and begin to dominate. Big Show grabs their throats but Rowan breaks free with several headbutts! Big Show slumps back against the ropes --- Wyatt and Rowan dump him to the floor!
Bray Wyatt and Erick Rowan eliminate Big Show
Wyatt sits in the corner moving his hands like a orchestra conductor as Rowan chokes Daniel Bryan on the opposite side of the ring. Del Rio tries to eliminate John Cena.
14. Brodus Clay
The Funkasaurus is in no dancing mood, he knows how serious this opportunity is and he also knows what he's up against. As soon as he slides in the ring, Wyatt and Rowan put the boots to him. Clay fights back but it's no use. It's Wyatt Family domination as Bray hits a Sister Abigail and then Rowan throws the big man over the ropes.
Erick Rowan eliminates Brodus Clay
CM Punk is Bray Wyatt's next target but he fights for his life and hits a big roundhouse kick to Rowan! Bray has to fend for himself and he smiles, it's time to dance!
15. Kofi Kingston
Kingston is a house of fire, flying all over the ring. SOS to Bray Wyatt! Trouble in Paradise to Del Rio! Kingston springboards off the ropes but gets caught by Erick Rowan! Rowan press slams Kofi to the outside ---- Kofi lands on the barricade! He trust falls back into the crowd and they surf him around as the arena breaks out into huge "KOFI!" chants.
16. Santino Marella
Santino breaks out THE COBRA! Wyatt does the creepy spider walk which freaks Santino out ---- he eliminates himself and walks to the back!
Santino Marella eliminates himself
17. Ezekiel Jackson
As Jackson walks down to the ring, the crowd bring Kofi back to the barricade and he hops to the apron! Bray Wyatt launches himself into Kofi, sending him flying into in the arms of Ezekiel Jackson! Kofi is all pumped up at avoiding elimination twice but Jackson bodyslams Kofi on the floor! Kofi is now out and Big Zeke has his first elimination before he even gets in the ring!
Ezekiel Jackson eliminates Kofi Kingston
Jackson joins the match and exchanges some shoulder blocks with Erick Rowan. Bray Wyatt continues to brawl with Daniel Bryan while John Cena fights Del Rio.
18. Christian
Captain Charisma joins the match and finds himself squaring off with his old rival Ezekiel Jackson. Jackson gets him up for a Powerslam but Christian fights out and hits the Killswitch! Christian then ducks a Bray Wyatt clothesline and hits a Spear! Del Rio cheapshots Christian and tells the fans to shut up as he chokes Captain Charisma in the corner.
19. Chris Jericho
Y2J makes quite the entrance with a boatload of pyro. Jericho slaps Del Rio and locks in the Walls of Jericho! The ring begins to fill up now as strategy changes this late into the match; nobody wants to risk elimination at this point.
20. The Boogeyman
JBL gets real quiet all of a sudden as the legend crawls out and smashes a clock on his head! Boogeyman gets in the ring and begins eating a handful of worms! This gets Bray Wyatt's attention and the two spooky guys have a staredown. The Eater of Worlds vs. The Eater of Worms. Boogeyman sets Wyatt up for the Pumphandle Slam but Erick Rowan boots him in the head and then tosses him from the ring!
Erick Rowan eliminates The Boogeyman
21. Fandango w/Summer Rae
As Fandango dances his way to the ring, Christian and Jericho team up to eliminate Ezekiel Jackson.
Christian and Chris Jericho eliminate Ezekiel Jackson
Fandango sets his sights on Jericho and shows a more vicious side of himself, stomping Y2J relentlessly. Bray Wyatt and Erick Rowan try to eliminate Christian.
22. Luke Harper
The Wyatt Family is now at full strength. They dominate the field and Luke Harper clotheslines Fandango off the apron!
Luke Harper eliminates Fandango
Bray instructs them to eliminate Bryan but Punk and Cena have something to say about that.
23. Bad News Barrett
As Barrett picks the most opportune time to enter, The Wyatt Family gang up on Christian and Bray Wyatt tosses him out!
Bray Wyatt eliminates Christian
Chris Jericho puts up a fight, nailing Rowan with a Codebreaker! The numbers game is still in The Wyatt Family's favour --- Harper decapitates Y2J with a clothesline, and Wyatt eliminates him as well!
Bray Wyatt eliminates Chris Jericho
The clock begins to countdown so Barrett is forced to roll in the ring and Harper attacks him.
24. Shelton Benjamin
AIN'T NO STOPPIN' ME, NOOOO! The Gold Standard makes his return to WWE and gets a nice ovation from the Pittsburgh crowd. He single handedly ends The Wyatt Family's domination by diving onto all three of them! As Bray Wyatt scurries to his feet, Shelton greets him with a T-Bone Suplex! Erick Rowan charges full speed at Daniel Bryan but Bryan avoids him by pulling the rope down and Rowan crashes to the floor!
Daniel Bryan eliminates Erick Rowan
Rowan is pissed and starts dismantling the announce table until the referee's force him to leave. The ring is full of superstars with full intentions of headlining Wrestlemania. Bryan and Punk are spent. Cena too. Del Rio hides in the corner to stay alive. Shelton battles it out with Barrett and Harper. Wyatt pulls himself to his feet.
25. Batista
THE ANIMAL IS HERE! Batista is a one man wrecking crew. Spinebuster to Luke Harper! Batista Bomb to Barrett! Del Rio sneaks up and attempts to toss Batista out but The Animal reverses his momentum and eliminates Del Rio!
Batista eliminates Alberto Del Rio
Batista and Bray Wyatt lock eyes. Wyatt loves it and yells "Show me that Animal, David!" Batista crushes him with a Spear and then finds himself face to face with John Cena. Cena is much more exhausted and ends up getting Spinebustered for his troubles.
26. Roman Reigns
The powerhouse of The Shield enters the ring with bad intentions; Spear to Shelton Benjamin! Superman Punch to Daniel Bryan! Reigns and Batista do battle until Wyatt and Harper attack them ---- Batista and Reigns hit a pair of Spears to The Wyatt Family!
27. Dolph Ziggler
Ziggler comes down with a microphone and tells everyone in the ring that this is his year. Number 27 is the most coveted position as more people have won the Rumble from this spot than any other. He smashes Batista with the microphone and unloads punches on The Animal! Dolph with a Superkick to Barrett and a Zig Zag to John Cena! 10 superstars are left in the ring with 3 more to make their entrance.
28. Seth Rollins
The Architect of The Shield is here and he joins Roman Reigns as they go face to face with Wyatt and Harper! Electricity in the air folks! Things break down; Bray and Roman fight in the corner as Harper drops Rollins with a clothesline! John Cena hoists Luke Harper up and sends him to the floor with an AA!
John Cena eliminates Luke Harper
Bad News Barrett sneaks up and dumps Cena from the ring! John Cena is eliminated! Revenge for The Nexus at last!
Bad News Barrett eliminates John Cena
29. Sheamus
The Celtic Warrior imediately Brogue Kicks Shelton off the apron!
Sheamus eliminates Shelton Benjamin
Everyone fights as the clock counts down for our final entrant.
30. Brock Lesnar w/Paul Heyman
Now we know what Triple H gifted Paul Heyman earlier! The Beast enters the ring and F5's Bad News Barrett to the floor!
Brock Lesnar eliminates Bad News Barrett
Dolph Ziggler jumps on Brock's back and tries to choke him out but Lesnar reverses into an F5 position! Lesnar sends Dolph flying over the ropes!
Brock Lesnar eliminates Dolph Ziggler
Lesnar now targets Batista and hits a series of shoulder blocks in the corner. He picks The Animal up for an F5 but Batista fights out and clotheslines Brock out of the ring!!!
Batista eliminates Brock Lesnar
Brock is in shock along with the announcers and everyone in the arena. He starts pacing around the ring as Batista sets Bray Wyatt up for a Batista Bomb. Lesnar shoves the referee to the ground and slides back in the ring, tossing Batista out!
Brock Lesnar eliminates Batista
Lesnar smashes Batista with the steel steps and then F5's The Animal through the announce table! We're down to five as Rollins and Punk fight on the apron until Punk hits a GTS! Rollins crumbles unconscious to the floor!
CM Punk eliminates Seth Rollins
The final four of the 2014 Royal Rumble: CM Punk, Daniel Bryan, Bray Wyatt, and Roman Reigns. Punk and Bryan entered at number 1 and 2. Incredible accomplishment for them. Roman Reigns Spears Daniel Bryan and then sidesteps Bray Wyatt, sending him flying from the ring!
Roman Reigns eliminates Bray Wyatt
CM Punk hits a GTS on Reigns and all three men are down. Triple H walks down to the ring and rips his jacket off. Kane follows behind him. Punk pulls himself to his feet as tells them to bring it. Randy Orton RKO's CM Punk out of nowhere! The WWE Champion soaks in the boo's as he and Kane throw CM Punk out! "This is bullshit" yells the fans and JR agrees!
Randy Orton and Kane eliminate CM Punk
Triple H smiles and grabs the sledgehammer. Orton and Kane hold Daniel Bryan as HHH charges with the hammer ---- Roman Reigns Spears Triple H! CM Punk pulls Orton from the ring and they brawl into the crowd! Daniel Bryan takes Kane out with the YES+ Knee! With everyone out of the equation, Reigns and Bryan get three minutes of back and forth action, a proper finish to the Rumble. Reigns gets locked in a triangle choke but shows tremendous strength, lifting Bryan up and over the ropes! Bryan holds onto Roman and drags him over with him! They battle on the apron until Bryan viciously kicks Roman in the head! Reigns falls to the floor! Daniel Bryan wins the 2014 Royal Rumble!
Daniel Bryan eliminates Roman Reigns
Winner of the 2014 Royal Rumble: Daniel Bryan
Fireworks explode as Daniel Bryan leads the fans in a YES chant and points at the Wrestlemania sign.

TLDR: This are my first impressions of the Peak Design backpack 30l, chosen for its dual use as a camera and travel bag. I sought a modular solution after using the Thule DSLR backpack 32l. Positive aspects include a sleek design, modular packing, easy-sliding zippers, comfort with 7-8 kg weight, and good capacity with compression zippers. Negatives are the dangling zipper pull, uncertainty about zipper appearance in its uncompress state and sternum straps' effectiveness, the bag's height, and a weak bottom magnetic pocket. I will further explore the top access pocket and internal mesh pockets, which have been criticized for being too small and camera-centric.
If you have any questions or things you want me to check out, please leave a comment. Also: I am not affiliated with Peak Design. I just want to give back to this community I have learned so much from since I stumbled in here six years ago.
Why did I get it?
As many have pointed out on this sub, this backpack is quite heavy, tall and expensive. If that is a dealbreaker for you, then this backpack is probably not for you.
But who is it for, and why did I choose this?
I came from the Thule DSRL backpack 32l, a bag I felt it had too many compartments and pockets and were too tall when packing the rolltop out. It was a nice and sturdy backpack, but the side access did not work very well when sliding the back to the side in order to get your camera out. I sold The Thule DSRL backpack 32l and my Thule Subterra 40L and got the peak design 30l. I wanted a dedicated cameraback, that also could be used as a travel backpack only, that also could be used wi hybrid mode with the small camera cube.
That beeing said, getting a cameracube for your current backpack could be more than enough if you plan to only bring a camera every now and then, and a lot cheaper than getting a peak design bag. I see my purchase as an investment for prossional work, traveling. I am recently doing more traveling at conferences and meetings for work that requires a more sleek looking backpack.
So all in all this versitily and ecosystem seemed like a good fit for traveling, and for film and photagraåhy gigs as a dedicated camerabag as well as fitting into more formal settings.
What I think this bag gets a bit to much critisism for compared to the 45l is the lack of side access zippers. The large zippers easily slides to the sides witch can double as side access pockets if you pack your bag strategically. I like this now, but it will be interesting to see if it will feel cumbersome in the long term.
I think the criticism of the shoulder straps are individual and something you would have to try out your self. When I packed it up to a total weight of 8kg (7.3kg plus a 0.7 desiliter water bottle) and did a 11 km test walk, it never felt heavy on the shoulders with the sternum straps attached. Some of the pressure from the weight also distributes into the back, giving a three point pressure on the chest, shoulders and the back. But the straps are thin though, and I wish they would have made them a bit wider like on my subterra 34 that is equally thin, but wider.
What I like so far:

• Sleek looking
• Keeps its shape even when empty
• Minimalist and modular packing philosophy - I like less pockets rather than a lot of them.
• Every zippers easily slides compared to every other backpack I've used.
• The main compartment zippers doubles as side access pockets of you move it onto the sides, du to how easily the zippers slide.
• Comfortable to carry over longer distances (in my short term experience) with 7-8 kgs of weight - the variable being a water bottle.
• Packs a lot more than I thought it would.
• The expansion zippers can be used to compress the entire bag down - if you haven't fully packed it out in 33 liter mode. Be careful doing this as it is not advertized and I do not know if the zippers will endure it in the long term or if you stuff it in 33 liter expanded mode and try to compress it down.
• Grab handles on all sides are very nice for putting the bag into over head bins.
• Very nice top grab handle.
• Very easy to tuck away the shoulder straps.
• The fact that you can get a hip belt as an accessory for carrying heavier loads.

What I dislike

• The zipper pullfrom the compression zipper dangles arround on either side either if compressed or uncompressed - solved by not zipping it all the way down.
• I am not sure what I think about the look of the zippers in its uncompressed state.
• The sternum straps seems like a good idea on paper, but not sure if it is a nice long term solution
• The backpack is a bit tall for my frame - but an OK compromise to use the same packing cubes and camera cubes as the 45l
• As others have pointed out, the bottom magnetic pocket really seems like a missed opportunity. It would have been nice to have stronger magnets or even a zipper in order to put in stuff like a rain jacket, rain cover etc for quick access. Now it seems so unsafe for storing stuff it is more or less a useless pocket.
• The dangling straps from the shoulder straps - many other backpacks av straps holders for this very purpose.
• Heavy compared to non camera-bags
• Tall compared to other bags

What I will further explore in order to make an informed opinion.

• The top access pocket
• The mesh pockets inside the main compartments
• The lack of large tech pocket compared to the 45l
• The lack of bundled hipbelt.

These pockets have been criticized for being too small, too camera gear centric, and unaccessible. I will try find a use case for them over the course of the next weeks and months and get some real world experience using them.
I do not think a hibbelt is a necessity for all users, but for camera gigs with longer walks I will need it.

My mother does amazing work in sectors which have meant she has accumulated confidential client files. These files have taken over several spaces in the house in hundreds of ring binders.
Her issue has always been that the papers cannot simply be recycled as they are confidential.
I have suggested more than once that we hire a mobile shredding truck which is certified by data protection and in which you can observe the shredding.
She finally accepted last week, so I booked a truck to have a deadline to work towards. I consolidated all of the files that would fit in one room for her to start working on, and prepared some bags and bins for things to be sorted into - I totally appreciate that there will be a few things mixed in amongst these decades old work papers that she might want to keep.
The main issue now is that she is managing maybe 5 folders a day. There are hundreds. She sits and reads each document before putting them in one of the sorting piles.
So far I have managed to be encouraging and try to celebrate the small amount done. But I worry that due to the speed with which she approaches the task we will barely be started by the time the truck comes. And then what do I do with all of these folders? Put them back??
Has anyone else had a similar experience? Do you have any advice?
Thank you!

I downloaded the free version of the finch app. It reminds me of Tamagotchi and Neopets.
I'm calmer, it's so messed up that this is working for me. Instead of carrying around 100% of my mental load, I make the tasks I think of a goal. It's fast and I get to set it down. I feel like I'm caring for something that needs me. My kids are into it and also motivated to have friends over.
I'm cleaner because it rewards me without shaming or lecturing me. Just need to remember that it took 5 years to get here and it's going to take weeks of sustained effort to undo it. I'm off the next two weeks and healthy, so I'm working on a big improvement.
We're using blue recycle bags to corral donations. They're in the garage now. We'll 1) have a yard sale, 2) donate, or 3) put it out on a nice Friday like a yard sale where everything is free.
I took the taped up paper off my front door window yesterday. Some of you understand how massive that is. If someone needs to use the bathroom, it looks like I'm in the middle of Marie Kondo or moving, not losing the battle against depression.
I hope this lasts. 🙏 I need people to come in my house and stuff to leave.
​

🪞
Welcome back to the Asylum write-up, where we explore the decade-long slow-motion car crash that is the Emilie Autumn fandom.
Sorry this installment took so long to upload! Just a heads-up, I may take some time to deliver the last one too – these posts take forever to format on Reddit's finicky-ass editor, and my dumb real life is currently keeping me from precious Internet time. Thank you for your patience! You have my word that everyone who pre-ordered the final installment will receive a PERSONAL, HANDWRITTEN letter autographed and illustrated by me, a list of the snacks I consumed while composing this write-up, some exclusive behind-the-scenes secrets, and a pony.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4.1 – Part 4.2 Part 5

Places, everyone This is a test Throw your stones Do your damage Your worst, and your best (...) And if I had a dollar For every time I repented the sin And commit the same crime I'd be sitting on top of the world today (“God Help Me”, 2006🎵)

Quick recap of where we left off. First, there were five to ten halcyon years of pleasant and meaningful interactions between EA and her blossoming fanbase, prominently by way of her official forum. Then, circa 2009-2010, EA's online presence shifted towards sudden anger outbursts, ban-hammering, and an increasingly top-down communication style.
This created a sort of primordial rift within the fanbase, between those who supported EA's right to speak her mind and regulate her own fan spaces however she pleased – and those who thought that her reactions were rude and inappropriate (at best), and that even fan spaces should allow for reasonable, non-abusive criticism of the artist.
Between a poorly-handled book release (see Part 3), the controversial (Part 2) or dubiously true (Part 4) contents of said book, and serious shade from various former collaborators (Part 5), more and more fans had pressing thoughts about EA's work ethic and choices. EA attempted damage control through drastic forum rules that made it virtually impossible to voice any “serious” critical opinion. It didn't work, of course: instead of squashing the mutiny, she created a schism.
Critical fans and active haters started congregating on unofficial platforms.

“WITH MUFFINS LIKE THIS, WHO NEEDS ENEMIES?”: TROLL LIKE A GIRL

So here we were, the early 2010s. The official forum (which had about 700 members in 2006, if you recall) was now thousands-strong, reaching just over 12,000 registered users in 2012 – not all of them active, but still. In terms of sheer numbers and content creation, the party was POPPIN'... but increasingly in parts of the Asylum that escaped EA's jurisdiction, such as Tumblr, where they could speak their mind freely.

You play the victim very well You've built your self-indulgent hell You wanted someone to understand you Well, be careful what you wish for, because I do (“I Know Where You Sleep”, 2006🎵)

In one wing of Asylum Tumblr, a smattering of call-out blogs emerged, which laid out EA's various lies, faux pas, shitty takes, and general deep-seated terribleness in detailed timelines and screenshots (or, short of that, long-winded bullet points). While many such blogs framed it as “serious” whistleblowing and did their best to remain as fact-based and neutral as they could, there was some genuine disgust, animosity and creepiness towards EA on that side of Tumblr; for some ex-fans, “exposing the truth” was mostly justify obsessive hatred, prying and verbal abuse. Some, for instance, felt the bizarre need to side with EA's mother in their estrangement. (One user, with the URL “emilyautumnfischkopf”, argued in a serious and down-to-earth tone - but with zero sources - that EA's upbringing had been nothing but peaceful and supportive until she ungratefully kicked her loving family to the curb for no reason at all. They were later revealed 🔍 to have an alternate handle as “eaisalyingcunt”.)
Either way, through these blogs, a number of potential drama bombs that had mostly flown under the radar were dredged up from over the years – some of which were hard to ignore, even for supportive fans. Where to begin?
There was that nonsense in-joke song, captured twice on camera during the 2009 tour (to very little outrage, at the time), crassly called “Manatee Retard”📺. Or EA's scathing response, in print, to a wheelchair user who found it insensitive that she used a bedazzled wheelchair as a prop to do sexy acrobatics on stage. (“Your offence taken at my hard-won self-acceptance proves that I indeed have something to fight against”, she wrote). Spoken word tracks where she made trivializing knock-knock jokes about serious mental illnesses she didn't have, like schizophrenia and OCD. Multiple instances of calling Britney Spears a “bimbo” and a “Hollywood fucked-up”, resentfully claiming that she only shaved her head because she was “hopped up on drugs” and certainly not because she was “bipolar”, a word the press liked to wield as an insult anyway. (“That's almost like calling someone a retard!” Yeah, heaven forbid.) The meanest, most distasteful paragraphs in the book. Basically everything problematic EA had ever said or written.📝 In retrospect, it had been a long time coming, but it was a lot to take in – and certainly more off-putting, even to less emotionally invested fans, than silly lies about her age and last name.
In another wing of Asylum Tumblr, some fans had had it up to here and just wanted to have fun. 🎵 If Plague Rats had learned one valuable lesson from EA, it was how to crack a joke in the face of absurd tragedy – and the general state of the EA fandom certainly warranted a few.
In 2012, Fight Like a Girl was released. After six long years, three of which had been peaceful, the Opheliac era was officially over. The new album and ensuing tour confirmed that the Asylum had entered a process of glamorous Broadway-style militarization. 🎵📺
The mood board was “Roman general meets Vegas showgirl meets Victorian street urchin”.🪞 The color palette was, to naysayers, “musty pink and rotten, stale piss yellow”. 🐀 The keyword was “REVENGE” (through the power of... self-expression! sorority! brutal assault with rusty medical implements!). The chorus of the title song had an intriguing run-on line about getting “revenge on the world, or at least 49% of the people in it” 🎵 – which seemed like an awful lot, and was widely interpreted (to cheers, boos, or uncomfortable sighs) as a misandrist jab at literally all men on Earth.
The show was essentially a demo version of the musical, in that the setlist vaguely reflected the order of events in the story – but prior reading was essential in order to get what the hell was going on on stage. This one Broadway reviewer had not perused the literature before seeing the show 🔍, and hated: the set, the choreography, the skits, the plot, the lyrics, the music, the concept. (Seriously, you should read the review. It's not even my show and I feel like quitting show business.)
Pre-show VIP encounters, now violin-free, were lorded over by EA's new manager🐀, whose official title was “Asylum Headmistress”. (Interesting choice – she sounds fun!) The swag bags were less substantial than before, and the “greet” part of the meet-and-greet was rarely more than a quick hug and photo op.
On Twitter, EA continued to embrace her “I am very badass” fronting attitude...

Often wonder if cyberbullies r aware they’re fucking w/ a girl who’s BFs w/ maker of the SAW films & is marrying a knife-throwing scorpion. (🐀📝)

...and her taste for needlessly inflammatory statements. About an aisle sign in a supermarket:

If this does not infuriate you, then you're a fucking potato.

(Again with the confounding crypto-ableism, EA! 🔍) She also went through a phase of raging against Lady Gaga 📝, who had stolen her idea of using a wheelchair on stage as an able-bodied woman. 🔍 That failed to convince anyone that she wasn't the histrionic diva that haters made her out to be.
Spurred on by EA's rallying cries and “us vs them” mentality, loyalists turned the white-knighting up to 11. On Twitter, some Plague Rats got into cat fights with Lady Gaga's Little Monsters (what a time to be alive). Others tried to balance out the Tumblr negativity with initiatives like “Spreading a Plague of Love” – a “positive-only” confession blog, whose extreme fangirling, comically drastic rules and hyper-defensive tone📝 did not debunk the increasingly popular notion that “true Plague Rats” were a bunch of authoritarian and hopelessly brainwashed fanatics.
EA truthers and other anti-fans started lashing out at anyone who dared express any positive opinion of EA, solidifying claims that the backlash against EA was just a conspiracy of bitter, hysterical bullies.
All this to say: every passing day brought new reasons for fans to get mad at EA and each other, and everyone in the Asylum was in need of a laugh. It's not easy having a good time.🦠
Leading up to Fight Like a Girl and in the years that followed, user-submission-based meme blogs took off, most notably “Spreading a Plague of Lulz / Troll Like a Girl”. A lot of the early submissions were absurdist humor and toothless, cheezburger-Impact memes (a style that was, oddly, already dated at the time). Those often originated in good fun, and from loyal fans, on the official forum. But there was also true snark, satirizing EA's questionable ethics, outrageous claims, and easily spoofed artistic gimmicks. A new slang of Asylumspeak emerged: Glittertits (slight NSFW), GAGA!!, EA Gusta and all its memeface variants, Get outta mah house!, Are You Suffering?, Fight Like A Goat, [Random celebrity] copied EA (a subgenre in its own right), ...
Most of the “trolling” was directed at unrepentant bootlickers and, to a lesser extent, red-in-the-face haters and creeps. Meme blogs would post joke comments under “serious” or gushing submissions on Wayward Victorian Confessions, and taunt loyalist accounts by tagging them in their posts. When a few people complained on WVC that almost all of the Bloody Crumpets to date had been thin white able-bodied women, and a few fans responded by sharing their dream-casts for a more diverse line-up, the blog was flooded for days with confessions that “X should be a Crumpet” (candidates included RuPaul, Mitt Romney, Nicki Minaj, EA's therapist, and the WVC admins). Farcical shenanigans like that.
Ah, but some people will always cross the line, won't they. EA threads popped up on merciless, bully-friendly snark platforms like Lolcow, Pretty Ugly Little Liar, and Encyclopedia Dramatica. Snarkers with a mean streak and obsessive haters mingled in some of the more aggressive, 4-chan-spirited retaliation against EA – which would be called “brigading” in modern parlance. This included flooding EA's Goodreads page with one-star reviews (see part 4), repeatedly editing her Wikipedia page to include her legal name and birth year, and ensuring that Googling said name would bring up current pictures of her.
All of this compounded agitation fragmented the once-united fandom beyond recognition.🦠 Through substantial disagreements among fans, personal bickerings, layers upon layers of inscrutable in-jokes, and cross-platform telephone games, the Asylum morphed into a booby-trapped Escher room.
Satire blogs were taken in earnest. Earnest fan blogs scanned as satire. Memes would get called out as abuse. Appreciation without attached criticism would get mocked as bootlicking. Obvious jokes made by EA would be taken at face value. One divisive confession could trigger days and days of debate, to the point that WVC eventually banned confessions in response to other confessions. New waves of infighting created a confusing web of rival sub-factions🐀, each accusing the others of being toxic, cliquish, and delusional.
The shared fantasy was broken, the collective vision had crumbled, no onez was speaking the same language anymore. Fans would jump down the throat of other fans who held almost identical views about EA, except for that one thing she said or did that one time. Everyone had differing thoughts on what should or shouldn't acceptable to discuss, question, excuse, make fun of.
War is hell.

SCORCHED EARTH SHENANIGANS: HONEY, I SHRUNK THE ASYLUM

Would you tear my castle down Stone by stone And let the wind run through my windows Till there was nothing left But a battered rose? (“Castle Down”, 2003🎵)

Haters vs sycophants is not really the kind of conflict where one side can come out on top (if you're participating, you've already lost). But in the long tug-of-war between “grassroots” and “EA-sponsored” fan spaces, the ultimate winner is obvious – in that the former is gasping in agony, a shriveled husk of its former glory, while the latter... is non-existent. This is due in no small part to EA's tendency, like the Czars of old, to settle conflicts by setting Moscow on fire.🔍)
That's not entirely fair: unlike EA, the czar only did it that once.
By early 2013, as EA was gearing up for her third Fight Like a Girl tour at the end of the year, the official forum was... not as lively as it once had been. Not just because of the stifling rules and disgruntlement towards EA, or because EA herself hadn't really posted anything on there in years; the Internet was also changing, and forums in general were fast becoming passé.
This made it difficult for EA to create a safe space where she could talk to fans, and fans could talk to and about her, in a way she deemed suitable (ie, a space she could gate-keep and regulate enough to keep it completely free from negative criticism). Social media was a minefield; she still posted regularly, but didn't interact very much. So EA and the Headmistress came up with a way to filter out the unbelievers: an official fan club📝, aptly called the “Asylum Army”, with a $100 entry price.
Joining the AA came with a dog tag, a sew-on patch, and a lifetime membership certificate signed by EA and – for some reason – the Headmistress. (Unlike EA's best friend and sound engineer back in the forum's heyday, I don't think fans ever really embraced the FLAG-era manager as part of the Asylum in-group. She came across more as a coordinator / businessperson / adult chaperone, at best.🐀) So, slightly better goodies than you'd get by joining the other AA 🔍 ... but not by much. The main appeal was that members would have access to exclusive content, special merch, giveaways, early bird tickets for future shows, and regular video chats with EA.
The concept itself drew a fair amount of criticism, as you can imagine. Between the name🐀, the price, and the inherent gatekeeping of a pay-to-join fanclub, many balked at the monetizing of a concept that had once (like, three years back) been significantly more DIY, grassroots, and inclusive. 📝🐀
Then again, many also longed for a positive, drama-free space where fans could just be fans. And while the creation of the AA was generally recognized as a quick cashgrab, a lot of people were surprisingly cool with it. EA was trying to finance her dream musical, after all – although a number of fans wished she had gone about raising funds in a less sketchy way.
So around 400 fans shelled out (which, according to the Headmistress📝, “basically cover[ed] the cost of running the fanclub itself – keeping the database up, website, etc.”). Enough for a close-knit, but sizable community. But already, there was a conflict of interest: a high fanclub entry fee essentially demands that you pledge loyalty to the artist over loyalty to your fellow fans, who wish to join but can't afford to. Sharing, caring, and ensuring no one felt left out were some of the more positive values cultivated in the fandom... but leaking exclusive content would surely piss off other paying members🐀, and make EA feel betrayed all over again. (And she had barely just started to mellow out on social media!)
...But then again, this is the internet. After the first month of secret AA drops (lyric sheets, some photoshoot outtakes – nothing too juicy, really), there were, yes, some leaks. EA was predictably miffed, and retaliated by... ghosting the fanclub for weeks at a time in its first few months of existence (great look!). She eventually found the “solution” to her problem, by providing something you couldn't right-click-save (and which had been part of the promised perks to begin with): live interaction.
Over webcam, she was her usual in-person bubbly, charming, funny self. Everyone seemingly had a good time during the fanclub video chat, and this gave people faith and hope.
There were a few more events, giveaways, etc. As promised, ahead of the fall 2013 tour (the last one to date, it would turn out), AA members got priority access to show tickets and VIP bundles. The latter were much pricier than before, and only included soundcheck, a photo-op, and three goodies: a tin of loose-leaf tea, a signed printer-paper setlist, and a small flag that said “F.L.A.G.”.🔍 Some stuff continued to leak – but, as some of the outlaws pointed out (scroll down to the Disqus comments), they were mostly relaying information that was relevant to the entire fanbase, such as updates about ongoing projects (the dragged-out recording of the audiobook, for one).
In early 2014, lifetime memberships were closed, and replaced with monthly, quarterly and yearly subscription tiers. Bizarrely, you ended up paying $3 more per month if you bought a $99 yearly subscription📝 – but it did include the patch, dog tag, and piece of paper!

Sometimes I kind of want to be part of the cool kids and register to the Asylum Army. Then I remember how it came about, what you could get for the same price a couple years ago, how the whole thing was and is handled, and that I won’t support any of this bullshit. (And then I roll around naked in all the money I’m saving.) (🐀)

Still, a number of fans rejoiced at the affordable monthly option, and joined – if not for the exclusive content and merch (which were... okay, but not much to write home about), then for the friendly, drama-free exchanges with an artist they actually did love, in spite of all the frustration.
For the still-too-poor or still-undecided, there was always the forum! It wasn't as active as it used to be, but a few die-hards still managed to keep the lights on... until, inevitably, Someone Did Something and Ruined Everything. (Once again: EA's wrath is spectacular, but rarely completely unprovoked.) The incident features one notable figure in the Asylum community. Let's call him the Collector.
OK, so maybe you remember the meme I linked to in Part 4, with Christian Grey and the ginormous EA hoard. Well, that's the Collector's collection. The “Violin” promo that I called the "Holy Grail of the fandom" in the same paragraph? Also his. The handwritten lyrics that went for $940? Guess who won that auction. Over the years, the Collector had probably spent five figures on EA merch and shows, and although that fact was a little unsettling, he was a very active, easy-going, and generally well-liked fixture of the fandom.
One day in 2012, shortly after the Headmistress had replaced EA's old Chicago BFF as main forum admin, the Collector's account got banned or restricted over something dumb. When the ban wasn't lifted as quickly as he hoped, he took it... the way one takes things when one is unhealthily invested: he started spamming Headmistress and the mod team with increasingly rambling and abusive emails (lost to time, probably for the best). When that didn't work quickly enough, he tried a different route.
One of the many auctions that the Collector had won, some years prior, was EA's old iPod Touch📝 – which contained all of her favorite tunes and, buried somewhere in the data cache... a phone number. Which the Collector tried calling. And wouldn't you know it: EA picked up. She congratulated him on his sleuthing skills, listened patiently as he made his case, apologized for any distress caused by the unfair account restriction, and then they got married.
Kidding! She freaked the fuck out, hung up, and banned him for life from the forum and all EA shows and events.
After his ban, the Collector allegedly still tried to attend at least one VIP pre-show (one source in the comments says he was allowed to buy some merch, refunded for his ticket, and escorted out). He joined the Reform forum to bitch about EA and try to rally people to his cause, possibly made revenge posts about her on darker snark forums, and continued to hound the Asylum mod team. So in June 2014, EA came up with a radical and unexpected fix to the Collector problem.

The official Asylum Fan Forum has been shut down permanently. I have personally paid thousands of dollars each year to keep the forum safe and secure for you ... Unfortunately, the forum has not been kept safe and secure for me, a truth which disappoints me greatly, instead becoming a place where people who have physically threatened myself and my staff prey upon forum members, pressuring them to contact me and my staff on their behalf. If the gullible wish to humor my stalkers (who live in their parent’s basement at age 30 something) and thus put me in danger, they may do it on their own dime. They may also fuck off, because stupidity can kill, and I won’t be your victim. To those who enjoyed the forum, you know who to thank for its closure. (“On the closing of the Asylum Forum”)

Voilà! This is how a decade-long archive of shared history ends: not with a bang, but with a dirty delete and a sod-off communiqué.
The obliteration of the forum took everyone by surprise...

I was actually on the forum when it was taken down. I was navigating between posts and when I went to click on a different board, an error message came up. I honestly cried a little, I'm not ashamed to say. (WVC admin on Reddit, 2024)

...and I do mean everyone:

Chicago BFF / ex-admin, the next morning: Whoa, EA forum shut down? Ex-mod: It turns out that if someone spends enough years actively “waging war” to destroy what they can’t have, eventually they’ll be successful. * eye roll * Not even mods got prior warning. Just all the sudden, poof, gone. BFF: Really? She did not let the moderators know?! This is sounding worse and worse. Uggh. I’m so sorry. Such a loss. (...) Ok, threats are serious, but why not just put it in archive mode so no one can post? (...) Sad. I shall light a candle in the forum's honor. (Facebook posts; scroll down for screenshots)

It was a gut punch, especially for people who had poured countless hours into the community, or could have used some prior warning to save years of their own writing from the role-playing threads. One last chance to take a look around the place that had meant so much to so many.

From the wording of the announcement of closing the forum and a number of other things, it sometimes seems like EA doesn't like her fans much. :/ (🐀)

Three months after the forum was nuked, Battered Rose (a venerable EA fansite, which had been around since the Enchant era and had one of the most complete EA galleries online) announced that it was shutting down too.📝 The admin, who had also been a long-time forum mod, cited a lack of “time, energy, passion, or money” to keep the website going... and being upset at the sudden disappearance of the forum. It was, truly, the end of an era for the Asylum.
...Well, no point in living in the past. For those who could afford it, and still wanted to talk to/about EA after that (not everyone did 🐀), there was always the Asylum Army fanclub!
Over the summer of 2014, EA held regular live chats and Q&A's, and... many attendees really enjoyed them, and thought the AA was well worth the money after all. She also quietly parted ways with the much poo-pooed Headmistress around that time.

Just spent over 4 hours giggling, drinking tea and playing guessing games in chat with EA and other Asylum Army members ... No griping, no downers, just lots of fun. I think I like the way the ‘new fandom’ is going and now I’m really glad I finally decided to join the Army. (September 4, 2014🐀; Battered Rose had closed the day before)

The forum was lost forever, but perhaps that was a chance for a fresh start. Could this fanclub thing really be the Asylum Renaissance that fans had been longing for?

...I have come today to a very difficult but necessary decision, and that is to discontinue the Emilie Autumn Official Fanclub. The site itself, and the community chatroom, will remain open to you indefinitely, but I will no longer be making updates to the site. (Newsletter, September 8, 2014📝)

...Never mind, then.
Turns out the fanclub had been the Headmistress' idea all along. EA had been reluctant from the start, and although she really enjoyed the live chats with a safe community of people “who are there for the right reasons”, she couldn't overcome her fundamental discomfort with the concept. Lifetime and regular members would receive a bunch of digital downloads and a -35% coupon on the Asylum Emporium for their troubles. EA said she would definitely pop back once in a while for live chats, for free, just for fun, but to my knowledge, she never did.
And so the most devoted fans were left standing in the rain...

She is happy, she made it. She is fulfilling her dreams, found love and happiness after all the pain. I understand that she now doesn’t need “us” anymore ... That doesn’t change the fact she broke my heart with taking the Asylum Army and the forum from me. Yet, I am happy for her. (🐀)

...while naysayers pointed and laughed, Nelson-style.🦠

I don’t feel sorry at all for the people that paid for the Asylum Army fan club. Most of them knew that EA is an atrocious business woman and has broken many promises before. In fact, I laugh at them. They seriously thought that EA would actually stay consistent with this? (🐀)

EVERYTHING MUST GO: THE ASYLUM WHOLESALE

EA fans were left without an “official” home for about three years. This gave them plenty of time to be annoyed at EA for: not releasing the audiobook on time, not materializing any new project for a while... and the new sin of peddling random, ridiculously marked-up AliBaba jewelry as “merch” on her official store. Think faux-antique cameo pendants and $30 Big Ben rings (...because the Asylum story is set in London, get it?).

The whole accessories section looks like a tacky overpriced English souvenir shop. (🐀)

The fanbase lost a lost of steam in those in-between years, because there wasn't much to stick around for. As evidenced by the positive reception of the AA live chats, even in the midst of unresolved drama, out-loud interactions in a friendly environment have always been EA's saving grace. Considering the amount of online hate, there are shockingly few accounts of bad IRL encounters with EA: most people say that in live conversation, she comes across as a fun, warm, and genuinely sweet person. Some report that their negative opinion shifted after meeting her.
But there were no chats or live shows anymore. There was only social media, where she ignored questions and vague-posted about overdue projects – and the newsletter📝, which was all saccharine love-bombing to promote bland dropshipped trinkets. For fans who remembered the handcrafted merch (and two-way communication) of the early years, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

CONTINUED IN COMMENTS

​

My trash has been piling up since the end of March. I don't know why it's so hard for me to take care of it on a regular basis. I know part of the problem is that I have OCD and if I'm clean, then I don't want to touch something dirty. The other part is that I keep making excuses or putting it off. I took eight large contractor sized garbage bags to lug across the street to the dumpster. Realistically, on paper, it doesn't sound hard to throw away a normal garbage bag sized bag once maybe twice a week and yet somehow I found it embarrassing that I had so many large bags. I was afraid that someone might see me and judge me for having so many bags or even yell at me because technically the dumpster belongs to the apartment building across the street. But alas, no one saw me or said anything to me because I did it right before sunrise. It took about an hour but now it's done!

I S Hi I’m new to this reddit thing so sorry if I make any mistakes.Basically this all happened a few months ago me(f 16) and my friend(f 14) I’ll call her meep we’re having a sleepover,she was on her phone most of the time which I didn’t think to much of when she then said to me hey can a few of our other friends(both f 14) come which I said sure because we where all friends now when they first came we did basic things girls do at sleepovers like doing eachother a hair and stuff until one of my friends takes something out of her bag I didn’t really cat eat first thinking it was something like clothes or make up until I get a good look at it and realised she had bull a bottle of beer out.Meep seeing this was like omg you actually managed to get it in your bag with my other friend I’ll cal her Lew said ya and bragged about how easy it was at first I wasn’t to keen on it since it being in my house but out of pressure drank it.A while later me and my friends start planning the day ahead of us now jump to the next day me and my friends start walking which all of them weren’t to keen on since it was a 1 and a half hour walk but sucked it up to our town (btw we live in a small town in a small country) anyway we where walking to a park originally but we all got hungry so we walked to supermarket but my friend (I’ll call this one royal)went to her house to pick up stuff and a bit later lew had to get something so it was just me and meep just sitting around eating on a platform when royal came back us three we’re walking around when we saw royals boyfriend(m 14) and his older brother(m 19) royal then started running after them yelling out to them and so then a bit later royal was flirting with her bf and me meep and the brother were just sitting around then we finally meet up with lew we then decided to go to the park together which ended badly in a fight where police where called but that’s not important anyway a bit later my friend called her bf and made sure he was ok and he said why don’t we try hanging out again tomorrow w which she without asking said yes so now me and my other friends had to go out again without being asked if it was ok with us but we also didn’t really care since most of us did wanna get out of the house so another jump to the next day me and my friends meet up with them we did give to walk to their houses bc they needed to get ready but after that we had a bit of fun the bf claimed a roof followed by royal lew and meep who tried but chickened out they told me to clime up but I said hell no I ain’t stupid they also tried getting the brother to but he told them to piss of he then sat of a rubbish bin which o tried to as-well but couldn’t jump high enough until he showed me how.Once we where done we went to the park well except for meep royal and her bf who went to her house to pick up something so me lew and the brother where on our way to the park when we got there we sat in this tunnel looking thing and just started talking to each other me and lew where sitting next to each other when he decided to sit in the middle of us which I thought was weird at the time but said nothing bc I didn’t wanna try make it weird bc again he was 19 but anyway my friends came back and we sat in this tree house looking thing I was mostly sitting with lew when hake moved away for a bit and then the brother sat down next to me I though it was weird bc there was room other places then he put his hand around my shoulder I looked up and royal was just winking at him and me I tried to signal to her that I was uncomfortable but she was still acting like it was nothing I then signalled to meep and unlike royal got the hint right away and thankfully said Alr guys let’s go it’s getting late and said we had to go I then got up and walked with meep royal complaining about leaving said fine and asked them to walk us home which they agreed until after a bit lew told them to go bc she didn’t want them knowing where I lived which I was really thankful for after that royal and her bf kissed goodbye and left which I was gonna do until I felt someone behind me grab my waist and kissed my cheek and gave me paper with his Snapchat I was gonna throw it in a puddle when lew asked what was in my hand so I explained what it was and she said oh how cute and asked if I was gonna add him dis it’s wanting to say no and wanting to tell her what happened I honestly can’t explain it but I just couldn’t but I have her the paper which she added him and made a gc with me him her and royal which was then when they made plans to sneak out with them and go on a night walk they asked me and meep to come which meep said no bc she thought the brother was a creep and I tried to say no but once again with pure pressure said yes royal and lew where to busy getting ready to even thing about meep in which I said hey why don’t I just stay here with meep and keep her company which they laughed and said cmon let’s go,it was 10:30 at night when we snuck out them excited to see them and me paranoid on my mum getting mad about me disappearing when we meet up with them me lew and the brother walking ahead I was holding hands with lew originally but the brother grabbed my hand and so we where all just walking I was ok with it but the thing that threw me off was what royal was saying she was just making very sexual jokes about me and this 19 yr old man which I was uncomfortable with but was to shy to say anything about once we got to the place which was under a bridge we just sat down and talked about stuff lew then went some place else which was then followed by royal and the bf I tried running off but royal told me to stay back so I did now it was just me and the bf brother idk why I didn’t think this would happen but he sat really close to me and that’s when he did it at first he just grabbed my face made out with me which I tried to say no or stop but I was to scared to say thing and then he just started touching me places and I tried with all my might to get him to stop but couldn’t then I heard yells from royal saying she couldn’t find lew me using this as a reason to get away yelled I’ll look for her and tan off I wasn’t actually looking for her though I was on a bathroom trying with all my might to not let out any tears which was really hard then I heard yells so I looked out and realised it was meep who had secretly been following us so I used her as a opportunity to get away and then said hey you guys look for her I’ll leave with meep signalling to her I wanna leave which again she understood and acted tired and said ya I wanna go now so we did which I then turned around and saw the brother just following us I let him follow us idk why but once we where around the block I said to him my house was close and he could go which I waited until he had actually left to start walking home and obviously I wasn’t near my house there was still a twenty minute walk which I just started braking down my friend was just hugging me and said it’s ok and saying what did he do to you which say I don’t know why but I just couldn’t say anything once got home I threw up I could still feel him everywhere in my mouth on my thighs and on my waist and other places I wanted scream all I could think about was how I was such a slut and couldn’t even say anything or stop it I wanted to die I wanted just anything to get the memory and taste out of me I then started telling my self about how worthless I was and how I my mother really did raise a stupid and pathetic person after a bit I fell asleep with my dog next to me (he’s a American bully)so I thought that I could at least have some sort of protection after a bit my friends came back and fell asleep I knew this bc they really don’t come back some quiet and woke me up now this was the last day they where at my house so they all went back to their houses and i really do wish I I could say this was the end I really really do but sadly this was not after going back to school and acting as if everything was fine and nothing was wrong I realised that royal and lew haven’t been to school for a while and the next day lew came to school and I found out that sadly the brother 🍇ed her when I found this out I feel apart I was sick shocked and just didn’t know what to do my friends told her to tell our health teacher she’s the teacher who deals with situations like this so she did the teacher said she could miss a few classes and stay in there with me and meep that was when I told them what happened to me they where both mortified that was then when lew reveille the brother wanted to grape me aswell and even told her he was gonna and how he would ask to hang out and to it at the same place he did to her I was honestly shocked and paralysed with fear remembering how he actually asked to hang out a the other day anyway I then asked her what she wanted to do bc our teacher suggested telling the cops tbh I really didn’t want to bc I was trying to keep this whole thing away from my mum but knew I had to so I walked to the police station with a few other friends and told them everything after that I knew I had to drop royal she literally let everything happen even with lew I’ll explain later with lew but we dropped her now obviously that east’s she was just making up excuses and even said that the brother was forcing her to say and do things and then started yapping about how he forced her to do those things but I saw right threw her lies so did keep but idk why but lew actually believed her until she also finally saw right threw her lies oh also brother actually has a gf who is his age ik real shocked expected her to be 8 anyway recently the cops did find him and I’ve got a meeting with one of them oh another big thing turns out we ARNT the first people he’s sa wanna know the first person he did? Get ready 🥁🥁his fucking brother ya that’s right he literally graped his brother and it gets worse he did it when the boyfriend was fucking 8 anyway I might not update for I bit but I promise there will be one

This year's paper was surely a mixed bag. Most of the topics were from pyqs. One liners were also prevalent. Lengthy questions were not that lengthy l. The typical aiims or inicet vibes were kind of missing. What say guys?

Hi everyone - sorry, the topic might be a bit gross. I have been wondering for a while why the box of my pointe shoes has been dying so quickly. When I was new to pointe, it was sort of manageable - like getting a new pair after 2-3 months (1h pointe class per week). But as of recently, with my class progressing in level, I noticed that the box of new shoes (that I have only worn once or twice) starts to soften already to the point where I would sink so much that I would lose my big toe nail - again, in practically new shoes, with only 1h/week of pointe class!
So I figured it might have to do with the sweating. I air the shoes out after class and make sure to not leave them in the dance bag when I'm home. But still, I think the sweat during class is enough (they're basically damp afterwards) to kill the box. Now, is there a way to manage this? Should just use a ton of antiperspirant on my feet? Are toe pads out there that come with sweat-absorbing fabric? Or should I stuff tissue paper inside the shoe? Because buying new shoes every 2 weeks is not within my budget as a recreational dancer.

The dungeon master described the party stepping through the wizard's portal into the plane of Elemental Chaos. "Before you lies a tempestuous sea of ever-changing terrain and clashing elements. The portal has opened onto a planetoid floating in the sea of shifting energies. Standing a ways away is a giant humanoid figure that seems to be made out of some of the same energies."
"Giant?" Sara asked?
"Yeah, it's like fifty feet tall. Looking upon its face makes your gut wrench as its face is a pool of ever-churning distorted energies. Make a save versus fear."
The players snatched up dice bags. Twenty-sided dice were rolled all around the table, but Mary, sitting to the right of Sara, noticed that Sara hesitated.
"What did you call these things again?" Sara asked. "Primordials? I didn't really imagine that they'd be so ugly or terrifying... or big."
"Oh, fine," the dungeon master responded. "Ambriel the rogue can have advantage on this check. What is your roll?"
Sara picked up an extra dice, tossed them into the bowl on the table and squinted at them in the dim light of the basement. "I got an eight." she said, frowning.
"Sorry, Ambriel and anyone else that got below a ten is afraid of the figure and will be at a disadvantage for initiative. The figure lets out a scream that sounds like an avalanche in a hurricane. Roll initiative!"
"Nineteen!" the boy across the table said. "Fifteen!" said another after rolling some dice. "I have a plus two, and I only got a twelve." said Mary.
"What about you Sara?" the dungeon master asked.
"Um, I don't want to fight it. Can I try talking to it?"
"I guess so," said the dungeon master, frowning. "What will you try saying to it?
"Well first," Sara started, "Is it at its house?"
The dungeon master and the boys across the table erupted into laughter. The dungeon master managed to stop laughing and reply. "These things don't have houses. They just live outside in the chaos."
"Oh." Sara looked disappointed. "I thought they would have houses." and then quieter. "Maybe a family."
The dungeon master laughed again. "What are you going to say to it?"
"I guess I'll say: 'Greetings friend! Do you know which way it is to the Dark Wizard Malik's tower?'"
The dungeon master laughed yet again. "It doesn't seem to understand what you're saying. It screams again and then attacks. Do you have your initiative number yet?"
Mary had been glaring at the dungeon master. He finally noticed her expression and slouched down, a sheepish look crossing his face as if he knew he was going to be in trouble.
Sara frowned, rolled her dice, and then stated "Six."
The party proceeded to fight with the primordial and Sara participated but wasn't really enjoying the situation. After the beast fell the party raced to loot its corpse.
"What did we find?" the boy across the table asked eagerly.
"Nothing, of course!" the dungeon master announced with some glee in his voice. "The primordial's body has evaporated and merged with the endless chaos around you."
"Well that's at least one thing you got right." Sara said.
"What do you mean?" Mary asked.
"Oh, forget it." Sara responded.
The end of the combat signaled the end of the evening since it was already past eight. The friends scooped dice and character sheets back into their bags, cleaned up the snacks, and said their goodbyes for the evening. Sara walked up the stairs and into the front yard with the other two boys. Chris's mom was there to pick up him and Tyler. She waved at them as they drove away and then started toward her own house just down the street.
The walk was only five minutes, if she took her time, and she had walked this street a hundred times before. She was enjoying the breeze and the crisp night air and didn't notice when the footsteps behind her started. When she noticed them she'd picked up her pace but they grew uncomfortably close. Sara spun around and was faced with a figure in the shadows behind her. It was only a few feet away but she couldn't make out a face.
"What do you want?" She asked the shadow. It did not respond. It did, however, step forward into the glow of the nearby street light. Still, its form appeared like a pitch black hole in the world; a torn place in space the shape and size of a man. The shadow reached toward Sara and she knew that this was an undead being. It had been hoping it could claim the life force of a human this evening; to pull her into the shadow realm and keep her there till she had faded away and become another shadow. Unfortunately for the shadow, she was not a victim that could be claimed so easily.
Sara dropped her book back and grabbed the shadow's arm, glancing down the street to make sure it was clear. Then she released her human disguise and pulled the shadow closer. She stared into the colorless void where its eyes should have been and the shadow stared back into the ever-changing distortion that her face had become. Lightning arced across Sara's skin that now appeared to be made of a roiling mass of stone and waves of pure water.
Sara's outline blurred and her humanoid form faded almost completely, leaving a cloud of elements ever fighting for position, yet she didn't let go of the shadow. The shadow was in a panic now, struggling and desperately trying to free itself from her grasp, to no avail. Sara pulled the shadow inside her cloud and it was ripped and torn by every element until it was gone in just a moment.
Sara concentrated for a moment and reached a human hand out of her cloud of chaos, and picked up her book bag. She formed an arm and shoulder to put the bag on, then a head and some feet and finally squeezed the last bit of her cloud into the shape of a green jacket. "Was she wearing a blue jacket before or a green one?" she asked herself. "I guess it doesn't really matter." she answered, and changed the jacket to blue.
***************************
Sara, Chris and Tyler walked up the stairs out of the basement, leaving Mary and the dungeon master still sitting at the table. The dungeon master was shuffling some papers, his mind racing with ideas for the next session. Mary stared at him, arms crossed and after a moment she finally spoke. "That was mean, Brian."
Brian looked up from his papers. "What?" he asked defensively with a worried look on his face.
"The primordial we met tonight in the game. That wasn't cool." She mocked an imitation of Brian: "It just lives outside in the chaos. Its sooooo ugly and scary." She crossed her arms again and stared daggers at him. Brian was silent and just looked down at his lap.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I thought we were supposed to act like we didn't know..."
"You know she's not going to keep playing with us if you keep being an asshole, right?"
Brian frowned and was quiet.
"Don't you like her playing with us?" Mary continued. "She's a way better rogue than Johnathan was. If she leaves and Johnathan finds out we have room at the table then we might have to let him join the party again. Is that what you want?"
Brian shuddered. "No. I do like her playing with us. She is a pretty awesome rogue." They sat in silence for a minute. "I'll make it better next week. I have some ideas."
"Good." Mary stood up and walked to the stairs. "We'd better not be fighting a changeling or a dragon next week." she said with a laugh.
The outside air was cool and crisp; the twilight had faded already and the streetlights were on. Chris and Tyler had left already; their mom always picked them up. Sara lived at the end of the street. Mary looked down the street toward Sara's house and near the other end of the street she saw Sara, almost home. Mary shivered as she watched as a shadow approached Sara. Mary then watched as Sara discorporated into a chaotic mass of lightning arcs and flame over a roiling mass of rocks and water. In another moment she had absorbed the shadow and it was gone. Those shadows gave her the creeps and she was glad another one was gone. Mary's parents had told her many times how they were lucky to have the Smiths living on their street. "Good girl." Mary whispered as she watched Sara pick up her book bag and put on her human disguise for the rest of her walk home. Mary walked back into the house.
***************************
Sara reached the end of the street, hopped up the porch stair to her front door and walked inside, locking the door behind her. Inside, her mother and father were lounging on the sofa watching a reality TV show together. Her dad waved a friendly tendril of water at her and turned his attention back to the show. Sara's mom floated up and across the room, her pattern of fire and stone indicated concern.
"Is everything okay honey?"
"Well" Sara started slowly. "In tonight's game we finally met a primordial, but the party just killed it. The dungeon master thought it looked scary." Sara dismissed her human disguise, released a small puff of smoke and slouched a bit. "Are they ever going to accept us for who we are?"
Sara's mom wrapped her in a hug. "Your friends do like you dear. It doesn't matter that you don't look like they do."
"Yeah, I guess you're right mom. Thanks." She brightened up a bit, her waves of water crashing in a happy whirlpool. She started up the stairs to her room but halfway up she turned around and said "Oh yeah, I got another shadow on the way home." Her mom, who had already returned to the sofa, crashed a tiny avalanche of stone in approval and then returned to watching the show.

I Accepted a Job to Film on the Dark Web
Man, I am pumped to tell you chronically online content addicts my story. Wait is that too mean of an intro? Will this get taken down for harassment since I painted too accurate a picture of the people on this site? Sorry, everyone, I’m sure you all smell like an expensive bakery and have touched grass this morning. Anyway, I promise I have something interesting. It even involves the dark web you uncreative writers cream yourselves over! I mean, totally real people speaking about their strangely similar experiences. Okay, fine I’ll stop bullying you through the screen before you click off.
This all started when I was seven years old and my parents were killed in front of me in an anti-indigenous hate crime, but let's be real you don’t care. I’m just some annoying Cherokee kid with dead parents so I’ll skip to the good parts. I spent years in an orphanage, gradually becoming more interested in death and violence. As bad as it is, I went out of my way to expose myself to that content in the hopes of desensitizing myself. Which ended up working too well, since now I’m obsessed with causing and viewing pain, though I don’t find any joy in hurting myself.
I got adopted at twelve and after a few months of staying at my new family’s home on the reservation, I went with them to a state sweatier than the average Reddit user, California. Long story short, both of my caretakers, whom I referred to as Uncle and Auntie because they could never be my parents, died. Leaving me in the care of their older son, who I call cousin. I’m not stupid enough to give up any real names, so I’ll call him Brick, cause he’s as dumb as one. He was in his early 20s when he was tasked with taking care of me and is the world’s worst excuse for a babysitter.
I’m almost always alone at the apartment, with him only coming by to drop off supplies and stay for a few hours so the neighbors don’t get too worried. Unless I get in trouble at school, then he’d suddenly give a shit. It's useful because he doesn't about the gory stuff I look at, but some display of interest would be nice. Oh well, ninety percent of the population sucks so he’s just part of the majority. Now, with that said, you’ll be able to understand the perfect storm that led me here. During my time on the deep web, I found a particular website that caught my eye. They had new footage relatively consistently and they were the easiest for me to access since I didn't go too far into the dark web, especially with all the honey pots lying around.
I even bought a couple of files for myself to study and admire. One thing irritated me though, the cameraman. He was always sobbing, breathing, shaking, or some combination of those. It seriously killed the vibe of the killings. Something I commented on under many videos, often saying I would do a better job filming. A choice that in hindsight was me asking to end up in one of those recordings. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was mostly the only one who commented but I was sure they wouldn't care. I was embarrassingly wrong.
I was staying up like usual, but it was past one AM on a school night, and back then that was a lot so I tried to sleep. Closing my eyes, tossing and turning, the works. I had just started drifting off when I heard the front door open. I remained calm but immediately found it weird since Brick never showed up this late. The thuds of the individual's feet grew louder as they got closer to my bedroom. I tried to convince myself it wasn't a stranger, especially since they got in with ease, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
They hummed as they opened my door. My dumbass had left it unlocked. I remained on my side, trying to look like I was asleep. They turned on the flashlight of their phone, shining it in my face. It was hard but I stayed still while they traced it over my features. I could tell they were smiling as they clicked their tongue.
“Heh, I knew it was a brat,” they whispered to themselves, pulling tangles out of my hair. Something I struggled not to groan from. They pulled up the hair over my ear and got so close spit got on my ear lobe.
“I know you’re awake kid,” they murmured, putting a blade to my neck. I let them grab my shoulder and move me onto my back, I knew how to fight but I wasn't about to take that big a risk with the position they had me in.
“You think you’re so cool saying you can do better than our guy.” they snickered, kneeling, their flashlight still shining in my face.
“Do you seriously believe that?” they questioned, moving the light away.
“Yeah, I do.” I stood my ground, they might have been intimidating but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from being honest.
“I wouldn't sound like I’m gonna piss myself every time it gets gory. I’m confident I could get better footage too, getting up close is something I’ve fantasized about.”
They clicked their tongue again and ran their finger over the bridge of my nose.
”Well, I know you’re a big fan of what we do, and you’re confidence makes me think you got something to back those claims up, so how’d you like a deal?”
I was surprised by how civil they were being aside from the touching and weapon against my throat.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, for all I knew this guy wanted me to lick their feet or some weird shit like that. They placed a finger underneath my eye, tracing a half moon with their nail.
“You have till this Friday to film a video of you killing an animal and put it on a flash drive that I’ll pick up here. If it impresses me and the crew we’ll hire ya with a handsome salary.” They began, moving their hand down to my cheek.
“But if you don't show, or it doesn't meet our standards, then I’m fucking up one of the parts of your face.” They warned, pinching my skin harshly.
“And if I say no to this deal?”
They put their hand over my mouth, scratching my lips.
“That’s cute, if you say no I’ll just slit your throat.” they grinned.
“Or rip it open with my teeth if you got a preference,” they smirked, before running their tongue across their sharp teeth.
“Okay, since I have no choice I’ll go with it, but I’m telling you now I can give you something way better than what you likely expect of me.” I prefaced, looking into their sunken eyes. They scratched my scalp, including the side of my head that was shaved.
“Good choice, I’ll be back to pick it up and if you're not here I’ll assume you don’t have the video. I genuinely wish you luck, because you’ll need it.” they removed the blade from my neck and walked away. I sat still for a few minutes in the dark, processing what had happened and wondering how they got into my apartment with such ease. I was confident I could blow their sniveling excuse of a cameraman out of the water, but I was worried about the people I was getting caught up with.
Sure, I had been on a lot of gore sites over the years but I was always just watching and occasionally commenting. Compared to most in the scene I wasn't much of a threat. I could defend myself and have contemplated killing for years but I hadn't murdered anyone or worse. Plus, I am part of way too many targeted groups to not be constantly at risk. Teenage, fem-leaning, two-spirit, indigenous kid with trauma? Yeah, I might as well be walking sign screaming “Hate crime me”.
So yeah, there was a lot to worry about. Regardless, I couldn't let that fear hold me back. I had a job to do and a group of sickos to appease. The next morning was rough, I got no sleep cause I’d spent all night brainstorming. I barely mustered the energy to change and drank straight mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth. Slogging onto the bus with drool on my cheek, I went to the back like usual. No one sat there cause, the seats were extra worn down, and I scared off anyone who attempted to with my active, rabies-infected bitch face. That day was different though.
I blanked on his name and where I knew him from, but I recognized his wavy hair and prominent curved nose. He glanced at each seat on the bus, before somehow settling on my area. He tried to give me space but ultimately seated himself beside me after realizing it was the only spot that didn't look like it would give him cancer. I glared at him as I did with everyone, but it didn't phase him.
“You know you could pick anywhere else right?” I murmured. He stared at the floor, then at me.
“I’m aware, but a few months ago I started a mission to sit on every part of this bus, and this is the last place.” he smiled, his lips softly curving at the sides.
“What’s the point of that?”
His mouth moved into a more neutral position, but his eyes kept smiling.
“I just thought it would be neat to see the same place from a bunch of different perspectives.” he took out his phone and snapped a photo from the point of view where he was sitting. Maybe my sleepiness made my bitch face less effective, cause he hadn't shown a hint of fear, which kind of annoyed me.
“That’s cool I guess, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. I’ve done some back here alone that would make your skin crawl.” in hindsight my attempt at unnerving him just made me sound like a pervert, which is probably why he held back laughter. Trying to hide a chuckle by clearing his throat.
“Hey, it's not my business what you do, no matter how Haram it is. It’s your life so that’s between you and whatever you believe in. Just don’t shake hands with me.” he joked, playfully putting his hands up. Strangely, I remembered his name at that moment.
“Oh shit, you’re Abdul! We have art together.” I sat up, haphazardly slamming my hand down on my leg.
“Uh yeah, I’ve seen some of your paintings, they’re pretty cool. I like the way you texture them, I’m trying to work on that.” he complimented, seeming more weirded out by my sudden energy than my accidental insinuation. I felt a little stupid for yelling his name but decided not to dwell on it.
“Thanks, you’re stuff is nice, and you’re good at shading.”
He stretched his arms while thanking me. We talked for a few more minutes, taking jabs at each other throughout. Turns out he was better at being an asshole than his artsy charismatic appearance made me think. The thing setting our insults apart being that you could tell he was a loving person underneath. It was the nicest conversation I had with anyone in a while. Though he could tell I was tired so he quieted down, letting me sleep, waking me when we got to school. We went our separate ways until the last two periods we shared. All that time, I spent my remaining energy plotting how I was going to handle the video. What I’d kill, record with, and how to dispose of the evidence. It was a lot to consider, but through three classes I devised a plan.
I’d find a stray around my apartment complex and take it out in my room. Record it on a portable camera since I broke the ones on my phone, no, I will not be answering how that happened. Then once I had my footage I’d put the body in a trash bag, throw it in the complex’s garbage, and clean the blood off my floor. It didn't seem like Brick would come by so he wasn't a factor I thought I’d have to consider. The plan was almost too easy, but I decided to believe in Occam’s razor. I got so lost in thought that by the time I reached Art, which was my second-to-last period, I didn't process that we were moving seats.
“She called your name,” Abdul reminded me. Our teacher placed us next to each other at our four-person table. The two girls sitting with us were already friends, so I didn't bother to say anything, but I was interested in talking to him more.
“So, what do you think of this assignment?” He shrugged, taking out his sketchbook.
“I’m not that good at drawing people, but the idea of combining two people’s faces into a portrait seems interesting. Any ideas on who you’ll pick?”
“Probably the members of the music duo Brain Tumor, they’re my favorite artists and they both look weird as hell.”
“Wow way to talk about your favorites, if that’s what you say about them I can‘t imagine what you have to say about me.” he joked, pulling up reference pictures.
“First, it’s not an insult, second I don’t have anything to say about you. Brain and Tumor have features and styles that make them stand out. Sure they’re ugly, but it just adds to their visual charm. Hot people are boring, there’s nothing to pick at.” I explained, unzipping my bag.
“Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m hot.”
His comment wasn’t serious but it kind of got to me.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I was trying to say you’re boring. All hot people are boring, but not all boring people are hot, okay?” I explained, flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, but if I’m so bland then why talk to me?”
I hesitated, contemplating how much of a dick I was gonna be.
“Because it means you probably need some spice in your life, which I can provide.”
He began sketching a head on his paper.
“I like spices, but I feel like you’re the kind of person to dump a cabinet’s worth onto me.”
I flicked my pencil over to his side of the desk, putting on a mocking grin.
“Aww, you scared I’m gonna get you into trouble?”
He picked up the pencil and started using it, putting his on my side.
“No, ‘cause I’m good at setting boundaries. I’m more concerned that you’ll get annoyed with how unafraid of you I am.”
I stared at him for a moment, I hadn't expected to hear that.
“Jeez, man you didn't have to read me like that.”
He shrugged, observing the red paint from past projects that lay on my pencil.
“It's not hard to figure out, just this morning you were trying to push me away on the bus. Lucky, or unlucky, for you I want you to have a friend and you seem like a fun person.”
“Wait are you saying I have no friends?” I squinted at him.
“Well, do you?”
I didn't answer.
“If your response is silence I suggest you take up my offer.”
I was stunned, to be honest. No one had offered to be my friend since 6th grade, and that didn't last long. Of course, I accepted it, but for the rest of the period, there was an awkwardness in my mind. As pathetic as it sounds I wasn't used to others genuinely enjoying my company like he did. Which was partly by design cause I get joy out of scaring people away, but still. I forgot how it felt to have conversations about normal things like art. He had such a nice smile too, usually when I see a grin I want to slap it off, but I liked his. His voice was also nice, it’s hard to describe what in particular but it was easy on the ears.
Okay, I’m starting to get off-topic. I’ll skip to the important part. Toward the end of class, he started talking about how he was interested in filmmaking and got a portable video camera as a gift at last year’s Eid. He didn't have it on him, but he showed me a picture.
“Heh, that’s funny, I bought the same one a month ago.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it's a popular model, I’m still getting the hang of it though cause I’m so used to using my phone.”
“Well, maybe I could bring you over to my place or vice versa after school and I can help you out.” I suggested.
He smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I thought you said you’ve only had it for a month? You know I can always look up tutorials from trained professionals.” he reminded me with a notable smugness that I'd used with him before.
“Well those guys are stuffy and I’m a fast learner.”
He redirected his attention back to his page, picking his pencil up.
“Alright, I suggest we go somewhere public instead. You’re not exactly the kind of person I want to bring home to my parents right away. Plus they always need to meet my friends and their guardians before I hang out at their home.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh, stretching my back.
“Aw man, looks like we can’t get high in my murder pit during our first hangout.”
He didn't respond for a solid few seconds.
“Wait, you do know I'm joking right?”
He shrugged, the smile in his eyes appearing again.
“I mean, one of those things is a little less believable than the other.” he snickered, and I laughed with him.
We set up a time and a date, which is where I screwed myself. He ended up being busy with projects from his other classes and family which just left us with Friday, the same day I had to submit the video. Now, did I tell him I wouldn't be able to make it? No, of course not, because I decided to be stupid and even more overconfident. I said that I’d one hundred percent be able to hang out with him after school like I didn't have a mutilator who was going to drop by my place at an unknown time.
The rest of the day went over fine but that bad timing led me to feel like a dick later. When I got home I was able to write out my plan, even sketching a few specifics of what I’d do. It was more exciting than when I’d been brainstorming, but this is when the gravity of the situation began to set in. When I said I’d fantasized about killings I meant it. I mean my teddy with twenty-five stab wounds should say enough. Regardless this would be the first time real blood was on my hands.
It made me feel powerful, but a little afraid. I’ve heard stories of people thinking that it would be an awesome experience and then feeling like shit. I doubted I’d be one of those people but still. Plus, I didn't exactly trust the guy who gave me this job. There was a good chance that this whole situation was rigged and they’d kill me no matter how good the video was. Or worse turn me into the feds and expose my collection. Honestly, if that happened I’d probably eat a shot to avoid going to jail. Wait, can I say that on this platform? Okay to the mods, that was a joke, I want to live a long life. Ugh, I’m doing a terrible job of staying on track. The point is there was a lot up in the air despite it being a matter of life or death.
I knew I’d go through with it but it was still a lot less straightforward than it initially seemed. I wracked my brain to remember where most of the cats stayed and tried to come up with a good way to lure one without raising suspicion. This also proved harder than first thought because I didn't think to account for the cat man, an old guy who lived alone and fed all the cats in our dingy complex while also housing a few. Knowing how obsessive he was he’d probably notice if one of them disappeared. Then again not all the cats return consistently or at all. It makes more sense that he’d think one of them was run over rather than slaughtered. It was getting late again so I rested my head for a moment, a bad move cause I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Not even changing out of the clothes I’d worn before, I woke up late and barely caught the bus the next morning.
I went to my usual spot but Abdul had already taken it. He patted the area next to it, which he’d covered in a towel, a smart move knowing how nasty it was. People gave me a few dirty looks as normal, which I smiled at. I stretched, my mind slightly less out of it than the previous morning.
“Uh, you do realize that-”
“Yeah, I know I’m wearing the same clothes.”
Abdul looked me up and down, his eyes remaining soft, but with a mix of concern and judgment. He set his backpack down and took off his sweater handing it to me.
“Dude what are you-”
“Look I don't know what led to you not being able to change but I think you should at least have a fresh top.”
I was surprised he was offering me something to wear but I took it.
“Uh, thanks, I’ll change into it later.”
He nodded as I put it in my backpack.
“You know you didn't have to do that.” I reminded him.
“Well there’s a lot of stuff I don’t have to do, but I do it because I want to, and I wanted to help you out.”
He smiled, his face still warmer than an Arizona summer. I got a strange feeling in my chest at that moment, I still can’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Well, thanks, I'll give it back to you tomorrow.”
We talked a little more and he mentioned something that caught my attention.
“Have you heard about all the animals that have been turning up dead?”
My eyes widened with surprise.
“No, I haven't, when did you hear about that?”
He pulled on his long-sleeve shirt.
“My sister said her friend who works at a shelter noticed a bunch of animals were getting adopted by people around the same time, and since then gore videos with them have been showing up. She found out through her co-worker who was emailed it by some random creep.”
I covered my mouth and looked away to hide the smile growing on my face. He had just given me the perfect cover-up without knowing. Now if I killed an animal people had an entire violent ring to connect it to instead of me! I stayed quiet for a minute because I could tell he’d likely see through any phony sad sounds I made.
“Oh wow, that’s awful, do you think they’ll ever find out the people behind it?”
He sighed, running his hand through his wavy hair.
“I hope so, for now, all we can do is pray that no more animals get hurt.”
I couldn't contain my grin as he said that so sincerely like animals and people didn't die constantly and that taking down one group would somehow stop the issue.
“Is there some joke I don’t get?” he furrowed his brow.
“Uh, no, sorry I smile when nervous.”
His gaze softened again, and he didn't press further.
His bringing up the animal killings ended up being the exact push I needed to get my hands dirty. I’d spent the entire day before planning so it was time to put that plan into action. I stole some cat treats that the cat man had laid out and spread them around my apartment which was on the bottom floor. Waiting for one of them to take the bate outside my window was pretty boring but one of them came after a few minutes. A scraggly brown and black cat with a tuft of fur missing on one side of his head. It's messed up but I felt like a little less of an asshole for taking him in since he looked like he was already struggling. I scooped him up and he didn't attempt to fight back.
“Hey there buddy” I waved, feeding him some more food. His eyes had a lot of crust on them, it was kinda gross but I don’t have the right to say with how often I wash my jeans. After a minute or two he let me pet him. I knew making any kind of attachment was bad but I thought it was the right thing to do so he’d fall into a sense of security. I was just about to take him into my room when the door opened.
“Hey, I’m back with groceries!” my shithead cousin announced with two plastic bags in his hands. He looked down to see me with the cat, his eyebrows raising.
“Aw come on, you know we can’t afford a pet.”
He groaned placing the bags on a table and unloading them.
“I know, but he doesn't look like he’s got a lot of life in him I at least want to help him feel better before he kicks the bucket!”
Brick rolled his eyes, putting the cereal box on top of the fridge
“Jeez, did you even think about what diseases he might have? His eyes look puffy what if he has something that can get you sick?”
He had valid concerns which was surprising since he’s usually stupid, but I was still annoyed with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine, I’ll even try to wash him, just please let me hold onto him for a little.”
He folded his arms looking down at us.
“Have you even named him?”
I froze for a second, before using the first thing that came to mind, which ended up being pretty awful knowing my plans.
“Cash cow.” I blurted, awkwardly patting his head.
“Honestly that’s better than what I was expecting. I was sure you’d pick ‘Hellspawn Mcgee’ or something else corny.”
He meant to make fun of me but honestly, I would have named him that if I had more time.
“Ugh, anyway I got those dumb chips you like.”
He then pulled out a bag of the wrong chips.
“Dude those are the wrong ones, this is the third time you’ve mixed up the flavors.”
He threw them at me, scaring the cat slightly.
“Well, I pay for it so you shouldn't be so picky. Anyway, while I was in line I picked up something you might be into.”
He then tossed me a trashy teen magazine. One of my least favorite sorry excuses for an influencer on the cover.
“This is a joke, right?”
I couldn't believe my own adopted brother gave such little shit in my interests.
“I don't know, you decided to start being a girl for real this time so I thought the makeup tips on page ten would help you out.”
I scrunched my face at his comment.
“Dude I’ve been this way for years, just because I started wearing more makeup and dresses doesn't mean I’m more of a girl than when I didn't. I know you won’t get the two-spirit thing but come on.”
He shrugged, seeing me done with me even though he’d just shown up.
“Yeah well hey I’m trying. Anyway, just so you know a friend of mine is coming here Friday.”
My heart stopped.
“Wait why here? You live elsewhere why can’t you assholes go there or their place!”
He slammed his fist on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up!”
He screamed with a phrase I’d grown numb to.
“I don't know, to be honest, something about wanting to move into this complex and this being a way to scout it out. I’m just letting you know now so you don’t act like a complete freak.”
“Jokes on you I’ll piss in whatever shitty beer you bring just cause you said that!”
I yelled back raising my voice higher than his. He face-palmed before putting the plastic bags in the drawer under the sink.
“Whatever, you and your ketamine-addict-looking cat have fun,” he told me while seating himself on the couch. I picked up the cat and walked into the bathroom to clean it. I closed the door and placed him in the dry tub. Using a small disposable mouthwash cup I got a little bit of water. I hadn't had a pet before so I wasn't sure how to approach the task. I dipped my fingers in the water and carefully pet it while pouring s small bit down his back. Any other cat would fight back but he just made pissed-off noises without doing anything.
I scrapped my old shampoo bottle and kneaded it into his thin fur. His skin was bumpy and dry beneath the hair so scrubbing it was uncomfortable. I made sure to avoid getting soap in its eyes but I did pull away some of the crust on its lids. His pupils were so clouded I was surprised that he could see at all, making me feel even more sure that he would be on its way out with or without me.
After drying him I set him on a beat-up shirt I wore when modifying clothes. He sunk his claws into it a few times, playing with a loose string. I ignored him for the rest of the night, hopping into the shower and changing for bed. His meows woke me up a few times but I tuned it out after a while, reminding myself that he wouldn’t be my cat for long.
The next day was Thursday and there wasn't a second that passed by where the weight of the murder I’d have to commit didn't weigh on me. I seriously shot myself in the foot by taking care of that scruffy, pubic hair pile. I was supposed to be hyped about killing it, after all, I’d dreamed and seen way worse than what I was going to do. Yet once I got home and started setting up I felt grosser with each step. I decided to record it in my bathroom instead of my bedroom so it would be harder to connect to me. I set down a few fabric scraps and a worn-out beach towel, placing it all inside a tub for easier cleanup later.
“Okay, I guess it's time,” I mumbled to myself. I brought the cat in and placed it down, setting up my camera once it was comfortable. I also wore my most generic clothes in addition to a mask, putting my hair in a bun for sanitation. When I saw the flicker of red showing that the camera was on I felt I was dreaming. I smiled, excited that I’d get to live out my violent desires. Yet, when I looked down at its pathetic frame and confused expression those urges left me.
I rationalized what I was doing, reminding myself how many animals die all the time and that I’d been forced into this, but it didn't help much in the end. I won’t get into it but under the pressure of impressing the group Cash Cow didn't go out as fast as I would have liked for a first task. Getting rid of the evidence was especially rough, the textures were pretty nasty, to put it mildly. It was surreal watching the blood go down the tub drain and gradually drip off my hands as I rinsed them. I couldn't conjure a single thought the entire time I cleaned it up.
Whether I was wringing out the clothes or putting the remains in plastic bags, it didn't matter. All I could focus on was the task at hand, with hints of disgust along the way. I ended up finishing at three AM. My hands were wrinkled and shook once I settled. I won’t deny that during the murder I didn't hate it. Slashing into something was fun and it made me feel strong. Still, it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Part of it was guilt, but it was mostly disappointment. I’d built it up for years and it wasn't earth shatteringly good or bad.
Overall, I expected to feel more, but it just left me hollow with an uncomfortable itch. There was no way I’d ever be able to see the tub the same way, hell I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Luckily I almost always shower anyway so it's not too big of a deal. I watched a few horror game videos, trashed everything, changed and went to bed.
My scalp hurt like a bitch the morning since I kept my hair in that stupid bun. Despite getting less sleep than the past two days I held myself together a bit better in the morning. I brushed my teeth, changed, and had some fried bread before getting on the bus. Regardless I looked like complete shit and struggled to slump into my seat.
“Rough night?” Abdul asked
“Uh, yeah.” I quietly responded looking to the floor.
He frowned, looking at me with concern.
“You can talk about it if you're comfortable,” he assured me. I contemplated giving him a thinly veiled metaphor or vague explanation so he'd comfort me but stopped myself before my mouth could run a muck. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything and I don’t like opening up.
“Uhm, thanks but it's something I have to deal with alone.”
He nodded, respecting my boundaries.
“You know, I understand if you can’t hang out today it seems like you have a lot going on.”
I avoided eye contact with him as he spoke. For once I was feeling hints of guilt toward a person. I wanted to spend time with him, but I knew that I wasn't in the state to do that.
“Yeah, I think it’ll have to wait, I’m-” I cut myself off before apologizing. A fact about me that should surprise no one is that I hate apologizing. Even when I do feel kinda bad the act fills me with embarrassment.
“You what?” he asked, his eyes telling me that he knew what I was going to say.
“I’m emotionally not great.” I spat out in an admittedly poor attempt to get out of saying sorry. As always he remained calm but I could tell he saw through me.
“Okay, like I said I understand, whatever it is I hope you feel better.”
I told him thank you and we didn't speak for the rest of the day. At home I changed into more comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. Unfortunately, I wasn't bouncing back from killing nearly as much as I expected.
“It wasn't even that bad! That thing was on its last legs anyway.” I grumbled to myself, smacking my forehead. I was feeling worse than when I did it which is weird. I ended up spontaneously decorating a ratty tie from the bottom of an accessory drawer to distract myself. It helped me get my mind off things, for a little. I had zero plan, just wanting to make something needlessly complex. Hours that felt like minutes passed and soon it was covered in patches, frills, and beads. I just tried it on when I heard the front door open.
“Man, that shit was wild!” I heard Brick laugh groggily. I didn't have to see or smell him to know he’d gotten lit. I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door.
“Hey, who’s there?” his friend asked, seemingly referring to me.
“Oh, that’s my little sis, don’t mind her she’s just on her emo shit!” he joked, which pissed me off for the petty reason that I didn't even listen or dress emo.
“Hey, that’s alright with me, I went through one of those phases,” they responded, their words less slurred than my cousin’s.
I fucked up and forgot to lock it when I closed it so they were able to swing it open, almost smacking my desk.
“Hey emo girl!” they waved as Brick haphazardly pulled them back.
“Okay, man, seriously I think she wants to be left alone.”
The way his friend looked at me made me uncomfortable. Like they’d snap my neck if I pissed them off. They clicked their tongue while stepping through the door frame.
“Alright, but I gotta say calling her an emo is inaccurate, they look like they watch gore and most emos just say they do.” they flashed a sharp toothy grin. At that moment I began to connect the dots.
“Easy, she’ll get pissy with you dude, now come on.” Brick warned tugging their opened button pushed him away. They looked me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think she minds, in truth, I feel like we’ll have a lot to discuss later.” they smiled again, finally walking back into the living room. A chill ran up my spine when I saw them. The sharp teeth, New York accent, unsettling gaze, that motherfucker was the person who recruited me! They were able to get into my place so easily cause my dumbass cousin probably gave them a spare key or the opportunity to make one, and now they were a room away from me!
I dug my hands into my pillow as I contemplated what to do, no matter what happened next, I knew it was gonna be a rough visit.

Hello, I bought a bag of joint compound for my metal corner beads and I didn’t realize until I already did one that it isn’t a setting type compound. Online said setting time is 90 mins but after looking into it I believe it’s the same as lightweight premixed stuff in terms of strength. What would be the best thing to do, scrape it all out and redo it, do a second coat with paper taper over the corner bead? Any help would be appreciated, thank you.

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

Hello everyone!
I've never used resin before, but I was recently gifted a lot of cured UV resin from someone who works with it a lot. They were a surprise gift, and I suspect they were her tests runs, as none of them are perfectly clear, and some of them have little bubbles.
They STINK. I thought at first that perhaps her household smokes in the same garage she works in, and that the smell was coming from old tobacco smoke. I washed them with a sponge and dish soap and they got a bit less yellow, and while freshly washed, they smelled fine. However, once dry, they smell again. Not only that, but because I stored some of them in a box with beads and craft supplies, now all those supplies stink, too.
I can taste plastic in my mouth when I smell them, and they make me nauseous and give me a headache. I'm storing what I can in bags full of baking soda or wrapped up in lots of tissue paper. Is it possible to get rid of this smell? Or is this a clue that the resin isn't actually completely cured? Any advice would be greatly appreciated, because I was sent A LOT. Thank you!
EDIT: Some of the pieces are sticky on one side as well, which I've only just learned through more searches that this means those pieces likely weren't cured completely. I touched them without gloves and have been cleaning my hands a lot, but I am currently strongly leaning towards throwing away the sticky ones, at least, though I'm not sure what to touch them with.

Weapons

• Unrolled Aligned Auto Enclave Plasma (x2)
• Two Shot / Last Shot / 25AP Enclave Plasma
• B / +50% Limb / +1 AGI 10mm Pistol
• B / +40% Speed / -25% AP Cost Board
• AA / +40% Speed / -40% Damage While Attacking Ski Sword

Armor

• BOL / Warming / AWR Combat Armor Left Leg
• OE / +1 Int. / Sneak Sturdy Robot Right Leg
• EXT +5% AP / WWR Ultracite Right Arm
• MS / +1 Luck / Food Drink Chem Weight Reduction Botsmith Left Arm
• Nocturnal / +1 Int. / Sneak Botsmith Right Arm
• UNY / +1 Int. Covert Scout Armor Chest
• Life Saving / +1 Str. / WWR Wood Right Leg
• VAN / 25 Poison / Doctor's Marine Left Arm
• VAN / +1 Per. / AWR Heavy Metal Chest
• VAN / +5% AP / Food Drink Chem Weight Reduction Raider Power Left Leg
• VAN / +1 Agi. / 0.25% Rad Damage Recovery Forest Scout Armor Chest
• VAN / +5% AP / Junk Weight Reduction Trapper Right Leg

Plans

• Alien Blaster
• Alien Corpse Operating Bed
• Alien Disintegrator
• Alien Disintegrator High Powered Receiver
• Alien Head Lamp
• Alien Tube
• Astroid
• Barbed Wire Fences
• Blue Ridge Scout Outfit
• Cappy Smasher Super Sledge Paint
• Condemed Notification Sign
• Cryptid Hunter Boonie Hat
• Cultist Adept Hood
• Cultist Enlighted Robes
• Fluttering Moths
• Fuzzy Mothman Plushie
• Honeycomb Paper Holiday Tree A
• Honeycomb Paper Holiday Tree B
• Honeycomb Paper Icy Snowflake
• Honeycomb Paper Jolly Target
• Honeycomb Paper Ribbon Bell
• Honeycomb Paper Snowman
• Human Tube 1
• Human Tube 2
• Laser Gun Tuned Beta Wave Tuner
• Molerat Wind Chime
• Nuka Girl Area Rug
• Overcharged Electro Enforcer
• Plastiform Candle
• Plastiform Gingerbread
• Plastiform Nutcracker
• Plastiform Santa
• Plastiform Santa Sleigh
• Princess Castle Pink Sleeping Bag
• Red Rocket Gas Pump Wall Light
• Red Rocket Gas Station Lamp
• Red Truck Ceiling Light
• Star Light
• Straw Goats
• Tattered Curtains
• Wall Mounted Fan

Edit: We actually think they're paper wasps not yellow jackets but I can't change the title
My husband and I bought this house in September of last year and last fall, we raked our leaves into one big pile along with some twigs and sticks and left it all winter. Very stupid idea, I know. We regret it now. The past week, we've been seen about 10-15 of what we think are paper wasps both in our house and in our yard. They're terrifying. I suspect the nest is in that pile but I don't know how to go about dealing with it. I wanted to take a pitchfork to it to bag it all up before I started seeing wasps. I don't want to accidently impale the nest and get swarmed if they happen to be in that pile. Can we call an exterminator if we don't know where the nest is? Or is there a safe way we can check to see if it's in that pile?

I first started noticing that something was wrong around 3 months ago. At the time, I was working from home and would usually light a scented candle while I worked, which usually helped me relax and stay focused on my work. I would usually burn through a candle a week, but over time, the candles started to take less time to fully burn up. At first, I thought that this was because of a change in ingredients the company that made the candles used, but the problem persisted after I switched candle brands, which I once again blamed on the candle manufacturers.
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.

Hollywood loves a love story, but Ryan O'Neal and Joanna Moore's was a tabloid headline waiting to happen. This stunning couple, more suited for the red carpet than parenthood, proved spectacularly unfit for the job. Their idea of raising children seemed to involve a liberal supply of cigarettes and illicit substances, leaving little Tatum and Griffin to fend for themselves.

When Joanna took custody, it wasn't exactly an upgrade. The squalor of their new life would make even the most jaded social worker blanch. Imagine conditions so dire that the UK's NSPCC would be reaching for the hazmat suits.
Then came a glimmer of hope – "Paper Moon" and a child actress Oscar nomination for Tatum. But even this turned sour. Ryan, consumed by his own lack of recognition, couldn't stomach his daughter's success. The audacity of a child outshining him! Neither parent could be bothered to attend the ceremony, a complete abdication of parental support in a moment their child truly needed them.
And what did Ryan do after Tatum's win? Did he use this as an opportunity to connect with his daughter, to guide her through the treacherous waters of child stardom? Absolutely not. Instead, he saw her as a glamorous accessory, a trophy to be paraded around Hollywood parties.
Tatum's world became a whirlwind of champagne wishes and caviar dreams, fueled by a relentless party scene. When a drug dealer on Ryan's payroll – yes, you read that right – violated Tatum in the most horrific way, where was Ryan, the protector, the father figure? He wasn't there. In a move that defies comprehension, he not only failed to protect his daughter, but cruelly placed the blame on her, all the while keeping the perpetrator on his payroll. This wasn't just neglect, it was a sickening betrayal.
As Tatum spiraled deeper, battling addiction and the emotional fallout of her childhood trauma, Ryan remained a distant, uncaring figure. When she reached a point of such despair that she contemplated ending her life, there was no shoulder to cry on, no fatherly comfort.
Griffin, meanwhile, wasn't spared his own brand of torment. He became Ryan's emotional punching bag, the recipient of a father's misplaced anger and frustration.
So, the next time you see a young Tatum O'Neal on screen, radiating a knowing cynicism beyond her years, understand that it wasn't just good acting. It was the heartbreaking consequence of a childhood ravaged by neglect and a parade of deeply flawed adults. Her world-weary gaze wasn't a performance; it was a glimpse into a stolen childhood, a life robbed of the love and security every child deserves.