Chest pain can arise from various conditions, some of which are serious and require immediate medical attention, while others are less severe. Here are some common causes of chest pain:

Cardiac Causes

Angina

Chest pain due to reduced blood flow to the heart muscle, often triggered by physical activity or stress.

Myocardial Infarction (Heart Attack)

Severe, crushing chest pain due to the blockage of blood flow to a part of the heart muscle.

Pericarditis

Inflammation of the pericardium (the sac surrounding the heart), causing sharp, stabbing pain.

Myocarditis

Inflammation of the heart muscle, often leading to chest pain, fatigue, and shortness of breath.

Aortic Dissection

A tear in the inner layer of the aorta, causing severe, ripping chest pain.

Gastrointestinal Causes

Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease (GERD)

Acid reflux causing a burning sensation in the chest, often after eating.

Esophageal Spasm

Sudden, intense contractions of the esophagus leading to chest pain.

Peptic Ulcer

Sores in the stomach lining causing burning pain that can be mistaken for heart pain.

Gallbladder Disease (e.g., Gallstones)

Pain from gallbladder issues can radiate to the chest.

Pulmonary Causes

Pulmonary Embolism

A blood clot in the lung causing sharp chest pain, shortness of breath, and rapid heart rate.

Pneumonia

Infection of the lungs leading to chest pain, fever, and difficulty breathing.

Pleuritis (Pleurisy)

Inflammation of the lining of the lungs, causing sharp pain, especially with breathing or coughing.

Pneumothorax (Collapsed Lung)

Sudden onset of sharp, one-sided chest pain and shortness of breath.

Musculoskeletal Causes

Costochondritis

Inflammation of the cartilage connecting ribs to the breastbone, causing sharp pain.

Muscle Strain

Overuse or injury to chest muscles can cause persistent pain.

Rib Fractures

Broken ribs from trauma can cause significant chest pain, especially when breathing deeply or coughing.

Psychological Causes

Panic Attack

Intense anxiety or panic leading to chest pain, rapid heartbeat, and shortness of breath.

Anxiety

Chronic anxiety can cause chest tightness and discomfort.

Other Causes

Herpes Zoster (Shingles)

A reactivation of the chickenpox virus causing a painful rash and chest pain if the chest area is affected.

Hiatal Hernia

Part of the stomach pushes up through the diaphragm, causing chest pain and discomfort.

Given the wide range of potential causes, chest pain should be evaluated by a healthcare professional, especially if it is severe, persistent, or associated with symptoms such as shortness of breath, sweating, nausea, or dizziness. Early diagnosis and appropriate treatment are crucial for conditions like heart attacks and pulmonary embolisms, which can be life-threatening.

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

YŪREI CHRONICLES [ 幽霊クロニクルズ ]
Tales of Japanese Horror [ 日本のホラーの物語 ]
By: Seph Cruz [ 投稿者: セフ・クルーズ ]
CONTENTS [ コンテンツ ]
Preface [ はじめに ]
Chapter 1: The Cursed Scroll [ 第 1 章: 呪われた巻物 ]
Chapter 2: The Shrine in the Shadows [ 第 2 章: 影の神殿 ]
Chapter 3: The Haunting of the Geisha [ 第 3 章: 芸者の幽霊 ]
Chapter 4: The Onryo's Revenge [ 第 4 章: 怨霊の復讐 ]
Chapter 5: The Dollmaker's Curse [ 第 5 章: 人形師の呪い ]
Chapter 6: The Shadow in the Forest [ 第 6 章: 森の影 ] Chapter 7: The Haunting of the Yūrei Inn [ 第 7 章: 幽霊旅館の幽霊 ]
Chapter 8: The Curse of the Haunted Kimono [ 第 8 章: 幽霊着物の呪い ]
Chapter 9: The Mirror's Malevolence [ 第 9 章: 鏡の悪意 ]
Chapter 10: The Bridge to the Beyond [ 第 10 章: 彼方への架け橋 ]

 "Yūrei Chronicles: Tales of Japanese Horror"

Chapter 1: "The Cursed Scroll"
In the heart of Kyoto, where history whispered through the ancient streets, there existed an antique bookstore known only to those who sought the rarest of tomes. Nestled among centuries-old texts and dusty manuscripts, a forbidden scroll lay hidden, waiting for an unwitting soul to stumble upon its chilling secrets.
Chapter 1: "The Cursed Scroll"
The quaint, dimly lit bookstore was a treasure trove of the past. Intricate calligraphy adorned scrolls, while faded ink whispered stories of long-forgotten samurai and mystical creatures. Among these relics of history, one scroll remained elusive, concealed behind a glass case. Its dark, ornate cover bore no title, and its presence seemed to beckon.
Haruki, a young scholar with a fascination for the occult, visited the bookstore one rainy afternoon. His curiosity led him to inquire about the enigmatic scroll. The elderly shopkeeper, Mr. Tanaka, peered at him with a knowing look, cautioning him about the scroll's malevolent reputation.
"Many have sought to uncover its secrets," Mr. Tanaka said, his voice trembling with age, "but few have lived to tell the tale."
Haruki, undeterred by the ominous warning, insisted on examining the scroll. Mr. Tanaka, sensing the scholar's determination, reluctantly unlocked the glass case. As Haruki unrolled the ancient parchment, he saw that it was filled with intricate symbols and incantations, written in a language he could barely comprehend.
For days, Haruki delved into the scroll's mysteries. His sleepless nights were filled with whispers from unseen forces, and chilling drafts seemed to haunt his small apartment. Yet, he pressed on, believing that the scroll held untold knowledge and power.
One fateful night, as a full moon cast eerie shadows across his cluttered study, Haruki recited an incantation from the scroll. The room grew icy cold, and an otherworldly presence enveloped him. A mournful wail echoed through the room, and Haruki's heart raced as he beheld the apparition before him.
A yūrei, its long, disheveled hair obscuring its gaunt face, hovered in the air, its eyes filled with anguish and rage. It reached out bony, pale fingers toward Haruki, its spectral form translucent yet undeniably real.
In that moment, Haruki realized the scroll's true nature – a curse that summoned vengeful spirits to torment the living. He had unwittingly invited the yūrei into his world, and now, it sought retribution for its suffering.
The scholar's life turned into a nightmare as the vengeful spirit haunted his every waking moment. His research became an obsession to find a way to pacify the yūrei and lift the curse. With each passing day, Haruki's health deteriorated, his body and mind succumbing to the relentless torment.
Desperate, he sought the guidance of a renowned exorcist, who revealed a grim truth. The only way to break the curse was to discover the scroll's origins and offer the yūrei the peace it so desperately sought.
As Haruki ventured deeper into the scroll's history, he uncovered a tale of betrayal and tragedy that spanned centuries. With newfound knowledge and a heavy heart, he prepared to confront the vengeful yūrei and set things right.
In a chilling confrontation between the living and the dead, Haruki faced the spirit, offering it the closure it craved. As the yūrei dissipated into the ether, its mournful wail echoed one last time, fading into the night.
Haruki emerged from the ordeal forever changed, carrying the weight of the scroll's curse as a cautionary tale. The forbidden knowledge he had sought had come at a great cost, a reminder that some mysteries should remain hidden, and some curses should never be invoked.
As the sun rose over Kyoto, the antique bookstore remained shrouded in an eerie silence, and the cursed scroll returned to its cryptic slumber, waiting for the next unwitting soul to unlock its dreadful secrets.
End of Chapter 1: "The Cursed Scroll"
Chapter 2: "The Shrine in the Shadows"
In the heart of a tranquil Japanese village, nestled among ancient forests, stood a centuries-old Shinto shrine, known to few but revered by all. This sacred place held an eerie secret, hidden in the shadows of its past.
Chapter 2: "The Shrine in the Shadows"
The village of Mizuki was picturesque, surrounded by dense woods and the whispers of rustling leaves. Its most treasured gem was the Shōrin Shrine, a sanctuary dedicated to the worship of the kami, where the villagers paid homage with heartfelt prayers and offerings.
On a bright spring morning, the Hayashi family moved into a charming house near the shrine. Yuko, a spirited young girl with inquisitive eyes, was enchanted by the quaint beauty of Mizuki and the mystique of the Shōrin Shrine. Her parents, Masato and Yuki, hoped the peaceful village would offer respite from the bustling city.
Their first evening in Mizuki was serene, and the family felt blessed to live in such an idyllic place. As night descended, they heard a faint melody echoing through the forest—a haunting tune played on a traditional shamisen. Yuko, drawn by curiosity, followed the eerie melody to the shrine.
At the shrine's entrance, she saw a flicker of movement among the trees and bushes. As her eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight, she gasped in awe and terror. There, bathed in an ethereal glow, stood a beautiful woman dressed in a white kimono, her long hair cascading like an ebony waterfall.
The woman's face bore an expression of immense sorrow, and her eyes seemed to pierce Yuko's very soul. In her delicate, spectral hands, she held a shamisen, its strings plucked by fingers that had long since turned to mist.
"Who are you?" Yuko asked, her voice quivering.
The apparition gazed at Yuko with an inscrutable sadness and whispered, "My name is Hana. I have been bound to this shrine for centuries, waiting for someone to hear my song."
Hana's story unraveled like a tragic tapestry before Yuko. She had once been a young woman in love with a humble fisherman from Mizuki. Their love was forbidden, and when their secret was discovered, they met a tragic end at the hands of the villagers.
As she spoke, the melody of her shamisen became more mournful, and the trees seemed to weep in sympathy. Hana's spirit, bound to the shrine, could only find solace by sharing her story with the living.
Yuko, moved by Hana's tale, felt a deep connection to the ghostly figure. She promised to help Hana find peace and bring her story to light. Together, they would uncover the truth behind the tragic love story that had ensnared the shrine for centuries.
As Yuko delved into the village's history, she uncovered hidden documents and ancient scrolls that confirmed Hana's story. The injustice done to Hana and her beloved was a blot on the village's past, a truth that had been concealed for generations.
With newfound determination, Yuko rallied the villagers to acknowledge the village's dark history and to seek forgiveness for the sins of the past. In a moving ceremony at the Shōrin Shrine, the villagers offered their prayers, and Hana's spirit was finally set free.
As the first rays of dawn bathed Mizuki in golden light, Hana's ethereal form dissolved into a wisp of gratitude and serenity. The shrine, once shadowed by sorrow, now radiated with newfound peace.
"The Shrine in the Shadows" became a tale passed down through generations, a reminder that love and forgiveness could transcend even the darkest of curses. Mizuki continued to flourish, its shrine standing as a testament to the enduring power of redemption.
End of Chapter 2: "The Shrine in the Shadows"
Chapter 3: "The Haunting of the Geisha"
In the vibrant streets of 19th-century Tokyo, beneath the shimmering lanterns and behind the delicate allure of geisha, a haunting presence lurked—a presence that would forever change the life of a celebrated geisha named Kaede.
Chapter 3: "The Haunting of the Geisha"
In the heart of Tokyo's historic Yoshiwara district, Kaede was renowned as one of the most captivating and skilled geisha. Her beauty was ethereal, her dances mesmerizing, and her laughter like the tinkling of wind chimes. But beneath her porcelain makeup and the grace of her performances lay a heart heavy with secrets.
One cool autumn evening, as the lanterns cast their warm glow on the district, a newcomer arrived at the teahouse where Kaede performed. His name was Kaito, a handsome and enigmatic man with piercing eyes that seemed to see beyond the facade of the geisha. Kaede's heart quickened as their eyes met, and she felt a connection she had never experienced before.
As weeks turned into months, Kaede and Kaito's bond deepened, their love blossoming like the cherry blossoms in spring. But their love was a forbidden one, as Kaito was a samurai, and their worlds were as different as night and day.
One fateful night, Kaito revealed a dangerous secret to Kaede—he was involved in a plot against a powerful daimyo who ruled with cruelty and oppression. Kaito believed that by exposing the daimyo's corruption, he could bring justice to the people. He asked for Kaede's assistance in gathering information from the teahouse's influential patrons.
Reluctantly, Kaede agreed, and together, they embarked on a treacherous path filled with deceit and danger. As the days passed, they uncovered dark secrets that could expose the daimyo's crimes. However, their actions did not go unnoticed.
One evening, as Kaede performed for a gathering of influential men, a sinister figure appeared in the shadows. It was the vengeful spirit of a geisha named Akiko, who had perished in Yoshiwara under tragic circumstances. Her ghostly form was veiled in a blood-red kimono, and her eyes burned with malevolence.
Akiko's haunting began subtly—a chill in the air, whispers of despair, and a feeling of dread that hung over the teahouse like a shroud. Kaede, sensing the supernatural presence, knew that they had awakened a vengeful spirit.
Desperate to protect Kaede, Kaito sought the guidance of a local exorcist, who revealed the tragic story of Akiko. She had been a geisha in love with a samurai, but their forbidden love had led to betrayal and death. Her restless spirit sought vengeance on those who dared to love across societal boundaries.
With the exorcist's help, Kaito and Kaede embarked on a perilous journey to confront Akiko's spirit and offer her the peace she so desperately sought. In a climactic showdown, they faced the vengeful geisha, revealing the truth behind her betrayal and death.
As the first light of dawn bathed the Yoshiwara district, Akiko's spirit dissipated, her eyes filled with sorrow and resignation. The curse she had cast upon the teahouse lifted, and peace returned to the district.
Kaede and Kaito's love story continued, forever marked by the supernatural forces they had encountered. The teahouse thrived once more, its lanterns casting their warm glow over the enchanting district, where love knew no boundaries and forgiveness transcended even death.
"The Haunting of the Geisha" became a legend whispered among geisha in Yoshiwara, a testament to the enduring power of love and the consequences of forbidden desires in the mysterious world of Edo-era Tokyo.
End of Chapter 3: "The Haunting of the Geisha"
Chapter 4: "The Onryo's Revenge"
In the heart of a decaying city, where abandoned buildings stood as silent witnesses to forgotten tragedies, a group of urban explorers would stumble upon a place where the restless dead held their sinister dominion.
Chapter 4: "The Onryo's Revenge"
The city of Kurayami had fallen into disrepair, its once-thriving industries crumbling, and its streets echoing with the memories of better days. Among its many derelict structures was the forsaken Kurayami Hospital, a place whispered about only in fearful tales.
Rumors spoke of a curse that had befallen the hospital after a gruesome series of medical experiments in the early 20th century. Patients had been subjected to horrific procedures, and their agonized cries still seemed to reverberate through the corridors.
A group of urban explorers, lured by the thrill of the forbidden and the allure of the macabre, set their sights on Kurayami Hospital. Among them was Hiroshi, the group's leader, and Yumi, a budding photographer with an affinity for capturing the eerie beauty of abandoned places.
As the explorers entered the hospital's crumbling entrance, they were greeted by the musty scent of decay and the eerie silence of long-abandoned hallways. Shadows danced in the dim light as they ventured deeper into the forsaken building, their footsteps echoing like distant whispers.
The group's excitement turned to unease as they encountered signs of the hospital's dark past—rusty surgical instruments, bloodstained gurneys, and cryptic medical notes. Yumi's camera captured it all, each photograph revealing more about the hospital's gruesome history.
As night fell, the explorers gathered in the hospital's decrepit lobby, their flashlights casting trembling beams into the darkness. It was then that they heard it—a faint, mournful wail, like the keening of a soul in torment.
Hiroshi, the group's fearless leader, brushed off their concerns, attributing the sound to the wind or their imagination. But the cries grew louder and more anguished, echoing through the halls.
The group became separated as they navigated the labyrinthine corridors. Yumi, camera in hand, wandered into the hospital's disused psychiatric ward. There, in a shadowed corner, she saw her camera's flash reveal a horrifying apparition—an onryo, a vengeful spirit with long, disheveled hair and eyes filled with hatred.
The onryo's spectral form contorted with rage as it approached Yumi. Its icy fingers reached out, and she felt an otherworldly coldness pierce her very soul. She knew that this was the spirit of a patient who had suffered unimaginable horrors in the hospital.
As Yumi's companions searched for her, they stumbled upon the onryo's lair and witnessed the terrifying encounter. In a desperate bid to save Yumi, they searched for a way to pacify the vengeful spirit.
Through a combination of research and communication with a local historian, they learned the full extent of the hospital's atrocities. Armed with this knowledge, they returned to the onryo's domain to confront the spirit and offer it the peace it had been denied for so long.
In a climactic showdown, the group faced the onryo, revealing the hospital's dark secrets and acknowledging the suffering of the tormented souls within. With profound remorse, they begged for forgiveness on behalf of those who had perpetrated the atrocities.
As the first rays of dawn broke over Kurayami, the onryo's anguished wails transformed into a mournful sigh. The spirit, its wrath finally quelled, dissipated into the ether, leaving behind a sense of profound sadness and closure.
The group of urban explorers emerged from Kurayami Hospital, forever changed by their encounter with the supernatural. They had confronted the past and offered redemption to the restless dead, leaving the decaying city with a newfound sense of hope.
"The Onryo's Revenge" became a cautionary tale among urban explorers, a reminder that some places are best left undisturbed, and that the past, no matter how dark, can be confronted and reconciled.
End of Chapter 4: "The Onryo's Revenge"
Chapter 5: "The Dollmaker's Curse"
In a remote mountain village, nestled among mist-shrouded peaks, a master dollmaker crafted exquisite creations that captured the hearts of collectors worldwide. Yet, within her secluded workshop, a malevolent force lurked—one that would ensnare a curious journalist in a nightmarish world of living dolls and dark secrets.
Chapter 5: "The Dollmaker's Curse"
Hidden away in the secluded village of Ichiban, known only to those who ventured deep into the mountains, lived a master dollmaker named Ai. Her dolls were celebrated for their lifelike beauty and craftsmanship, with collectors from distant lands coveting her creations.
One brisk autumn morning, a journalist named Keiko received a cryptic letter from a source in Ichiban, hinting at a sinister mystery surrounding Ai's dolls. Intrigued by the enigmatic message, Keiko embarked on a journey to the remote village, determined to uncover the truth.
Ichiban was a place untouched by time, its cobblestone streets winding through dense forests and past centuries-old homes. The village exuded an eerie tranquility, and the locals spoke in hushed tones about Ai's dolls, rumored to be infused with a piece of the human soul.
Upon reaching Ai's workshop, Keiko was greeted by the dollmaker herself, a woman of grace and poise. The workshop was a treasure trove of exquisite dolls, their eyes seeming to follow Keiko's every move. Among them, a particular doll known as Hikari stood out—a hauntingly beautiful creation with ebony hair and obsidian eyes.
As Keiko delved deeper into the village's mysteries, she discovered that Hikari was believed to house the soul of a deceased child, a belief held by both Ai and the villagers. The doll's unsettling presence and the uncanny resemblance it bore to a girl named Mei, who had died tragically years ago, sent shivers down Keiko's spine.
Keiko's nights in Ichiban were filled with restless dreams of porcelain dolls that came to life. In these dreams, Hikari beckoned her to uncover the truth behind the dollmaker's creations. Guided by an inexplicable compulsion, Keiko embarked on a quest to unearth the dark secrets hidden within Ai's workshop.
As Keiko investigated further, she uncovered Ai's own tragic past—a story of unrequited love, loss, and a desperate desire to capture the essence of the human soul in her dolls. With each revelation, the line between the living and the lifeless blurred, and Keiko felt herself becoming entangled in a nightmarish world.
The dolls that had once been works of art now seemed to harbor malevolence. They moved of their own accord, their eyes filled with an eerie, lifelike intensity. Keiko realized that Ai's obsession had bound her to a sinister force, and her creations hungered for more than just existence.
In a chilling climax, Keiko confronted Ai and the curse that had gripped her creations. Together, they sought to break the curse's hold and release the trapped souls within the dolls.
As the moon hung low in the night sky, Ai performed a solemn ritual, guided by the spirit of Mei, whose essence had been captured in Hikari. The dolls, imbued with a restless energy, gathered around, their haunting eyes watching as the curse was lifted.
With a mournful sigh, the dolls' porcelain features softened, and their malevolence dissipated. The spirit of Mei was set free, and the dolls became lifeless once more, their beauty preserved in eternal stillness.
Ichiban returned to its peaceful slumber, and Keiko departed with a newfound appreciation for the power of art and the depths of human longing. The village's haunting tale of the dollmaker's curse served as a reminder that some obsessions could lead to the creation of something far more sinister than art itself.
End of Chapter 5: "The Dollmaker's Curse"
Chapter 6: "The Shadow in the Forest"
In a land steeped in history and tradition, the Aokigahara Forest, known as the "Suicide Forest," concealed a dark secret. Within its dense, ancient foliage, a group of hikers would embark on a journey that would lead them into the heart of a malevolent force.
Chapter 6: "The Shadow in the Forest"
Deep within the prefecture of Yamanashi, shrouded in a perpetual mist, lay the infamous Aokigahara Forest—an expanse of ancient woodland that held a dark reputation. Known as the "Suicide Forest," it had been a site of countless tragic deaths throughout the centuries.
A group of adventurous hikers, seeking to conquer the wilderness and challenge the forest's ominous legends, gathered on a chilly autumn morning. Among them was Akira, an experienced guide with a deep respect for the forest's history, and Yumi, a young woman in search of adventure and solace from her own troubled past.
The hikers ventured deep into the forest, their footsteps muffled by the thick blanket of moss and fallen leaves. The dense canopy above cast eerie shadows, and the trees seemed to whisper secrets of sorrow and despair.
As they trekked further into the woods, they began to notice strange occurrences—a disconcerting sense of being watched, distant whispers on the wind, and ghostly apparitions that flickered at the edge of their vision. Akira, the guide, attributed these phenomena to the forest's ominous reputation and urged the group to press on.
Yet, the forest's grip on their minds and senses tightened. Yumi, in particular, felt a strange connection to the haunting forces that seemed to lurk behind every tree. Inexplicable visions of tragedy and despair flashed before her eyes, and a sense of overwhelming dread enveloped her.
Night descended on the forest, and the hikers set up camp, their flickering campfire offering the only semblance of comfort in the oppressive darkness. It was then that Yumi encountered a spectral figure—a yūrei, her kimono tattered and her eyes empty voids.
The yūrei beckoned to Yumi, her voice a mournful echo. Unable to resist, Yumi followed the apparition into the depths of the forest, her companions unaware of her disappearance. The yūrei led her to a clearing where an ancient tree stood, its gnarled roots forming a grotesque face.
As Yumi approached the tree, she felt a malevolent presence—an ancient spirit of the forest itself. It spoke to her, revealing the tragic history of Aokigahara—the place where those who had lost hope sought refuge in death.
Yumi learned of the forest's vengeful guardian, a yūrei born of countless lost souls, whose suffering fueled its malevolence. It was the embodiment of the forest's sorrow, forever bound to torment those who ventured within.
Realizing that Yumi was now connected to the yūrei, her companions embarked on a desperate search to rescue her from the forest's clutches. With the guidance of Akira's knowledge and determination, they confronted the vengeful spirit, revealing the pain of their own pasts and the impact of their actions on the world around them.
As the first rays of dawn bathed Aokigahara in a pale light, the yūrei's malevolence waned, and its grip on Yumi loosened. With a final sigh, it dissipated into the morning mist, its haunting presence released from the forest.
Yumi was reunited with her companions, forever changed by her encounter with the malevolent spirit of Aokigahara. The forest's ominous reputation remained, a reminder of the darkness that could consume those who dared to venture too close to its heart.
"The Shadow in the Forest" served as a chilling testament to the mysteries of Aokigahara, where the past and the present intertwined, and the boundaries between life and death blurred beneath the ancient canopy.
End of Chapter 6: "The Shadow in the Forest"
Chapter 7: "The Haunting of the Yurei Inn"
In a remote village nestled among mist-covered mountains, a centuries-old inn held a sinister secret. When a weary traveler seeks refuge within its ancient walls, she becomes entangled in a web of supernatural mysteries that threaten to consume her soul.
Chapter 7: "The Haunting of the Yurei Inn"
The village of Okuyama was a hidden gem, nestled among towering peaks and blanketed in mist. Within this secluded haven stood the Yurei Inn, a centuries-old establishment steeped in history and whispered legends. Its age-old charm masked a sinister truth—a haunting presence that had plagued the inn for generations.
Amidst a dense fog, a lone traveler named Rei arrived in Okuyama, weary and seeking shelter from the elements. The Yurei Inn, with its rustic charm and flickering lanterns, seemed like the perfect refuge. Little did Rei know that her stay at the inn would unravel the mysteries hidden within its ancient walls.
Upon her arrival, Rei was greeted by the inn's elderly proprietress, Eiko, a woman whose weathered features and deep knowledge of the village's history hinted at a deeper connection to the inn's haunting past.
As Rei settled into her room, the oppressive atmosphere within the inn became palpable. Shadows seemed to dance in the corners of her vision, and strange, ghostly whispers echoed in the corridors. Unbeknownst to her, Rei had become a pawn in a centuries-old battle between the inn and the vengeful spirits that resided within.
In the dead of night, Rei awoke to a chilling presence at her bedside—an ethereal yurei, her white burial kimono flowing like a spectral river. The vengeful spirit's eyes held an insatiable hunger, and she reached out to Rei, her fingers icy and skeletal.
Rei's nights became torment as she encountered more yurei within the inn, each with their own tragic stories of betrayal, injustice, and unfulfilled desires. The spirits sought vengeance, and Rei's presence within the inn had awakened their malevolence.
Desperate to uncover the inn's secrets and free herself from the spirits' relentless pursuit, Rei sought the guidance of Eiko. The elderly proprietress revealed the tragic history of the inn—an establishment built on the suffering of countless souls who had met their demise within its walls.
Eiko's own family had been entangled in the inn's dark legacy, and she bore the weight of their deeds. Together, Rei and Eiko embarked on a journey to confront the yurei and offer them redemption, hoping to break the cycle of suffering that had plagued the inn for centuries.
In a harrowing confrontation with the vengeful spirits, Rei and Eiko unveiled the truth behind the inn's cursed history and acknowledged the pain of the souls that had been wronged. With heartfelt apologies and rituals of atonement, they sought to release the spirits from their torment.
As the first rays of dawn bathed Okuyama in a golden light, the yurei's spectral forms dissolved into the ether, their eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and gratitude. The Yurei Inn, once a place of darkness, now held the promise of redemption.
Rei departed from Okuyama, forever marked by her encounter with the supernatural. The Yurei Inn, now cleansed of its malevolent spirits, stood as a testament to the power of reconciliation and the hope of breaking the chains of the past.
"The Haunting of the Yurei Inn" became a cautionary tale among villagers, a reminder that the sins of the past could be confronted and forgiven, even in the face of vengeful spirits.
End of Chapter 7: "The Haunting of the Yurei Inn"
Chapter 8: "The Curse of the Haunted Kimono"
In the heart of Kyoto, where tradition and modernity intertwined, a family heirloom, an ancient kimono, carried a chilling curse that had plagued generations. A woman must delve into her family's history to uncover the origins of the curse and find a way to break it before it consumes her and her loved ones.
Chapter 8: "The Curse of the Haunted Kimono"
Kyoto, the city of a thousand temples, was a place where time seemed to stand still. Among the historic districts, the Nakamura family had passed down a treasured heirloom for generations—an exquisite silk kimono adorned with intricate embroidery, a relic of a bygone era.
The kimono had always been a source of fascination and reverence within the Nakamura family. It was said to be imbued with mystical powers, protecting its wearer from harm and misfortune. But beneath its ornate beauty lay a dark secret—a curse that had haunted the family for centuries.
Emi, the youngest of the Nakamura family, had grown up hearing stories of the kimono's mystical properties and the curse that clung to it. When her grandmother passed away, leaving the kimono in her care, Emi became the latest custodian of this fabled garment.
As the years passed, strange occurrences began to plague Emi and her family. The kimono seemed to have a malevolent presence, causing nightmares, unexplained accidents, and a growing sense of dread. Emi's husband, Toshiro, and their young daughter, Yuki, bore the brunt of the curse's effects.
Desperate to protect her loved ones, Emi embarked on a quest to uncover the origins of the curse and find a way to break it. She delved into her family's history, poring over ancient scrolls and consulting with local priests and scholars.
Through her research, Emi learned of a tragic love story that had been concealed for generations—a forbidden romance between a Nakamura ancestor and a woman from a rival clan. The lovers had been torn apart by a vengeful spirit, and their love had been sealed within the cursed kimono.
With newfound determination, Emi sought out the help of a renowned exorcist, who revealed that the curse could only be broken by reconciling the spirits of the star-crossed lovers and offering them a chance at eternal peace.
Emi, Toshiro, and Yuki embarked on a journey to the ancestral shrine of the Nakamura family, where they conducted a solemn ritual to appease the vengeful spirits. As they offered their prayers and made heartfelt apologies on behalf of their ancestors, a profound sense of forgiveness washed over them.
In a climactic moment, the cursed kimono transformed, its once malevolent aura dissipating into the ether. The spirits of the star-crossed lovers, now free from their torment, appeared before Emi and her family, their eyes filled with gratitude.
As the cherry blossoms rained down upon Kyoto, Emi, Toshiro, and Yuki returned home with a newfound sense of peace and closure. The kimono, no longer cursed, became a symbol of their family's resilience and the enduring power of love and forgiveness.
"The Curse of the Haunted Kimono" served as a reminder that the sins of the past could be atoned for and that the bonds of love and family could transcend even the darkest of curses.
End of Chapter 8: "The Curse of the Haunted Kimono"
Chapter 9: "The Mirror's Malevolence"
In a quiet suburban neighborhood, an antique mirror with a sinister past found its way into the home of a young couple. As they unwittingly unleashed the malevolent spirit trapped within, they must confront the mirror's dark history to save themselves and their family.
Chapter 9: "The Mirror's Malevolence"
In a serene suburban neighborhood, where cherry blossoms bloomed with each passing spring, lived a young couple, Hiroshi and Aiko, who were enamored with the charm of their new home. They had recently moved into a quaint, old-fashioned house that came with a peculiar antique mirror.
The mirror was ornate and beautiful, its frame adorned with delicate carvings of cherry blossoms. It had been left behind by the previous owner, a recluse who had passed away under mysterious circumstances. Little did Hiroshi and Aiko know that this mirror carried a malevolent secret.
As they settled into their new home, strange occurrences began to unfold. Reflections in the mirror seemed to distort, showing glimpses of eerie, shadowy figures lurking in the background. At night, whispers filled the room as if unseen voices murmured from within the glass.
Aiko, with her fascination for the occult, was the first to sense the mirror's sinister aura. She delved into research, uncovering tales of a cursed mirror that had plagued the previous owner's family for generations.
The mirror had once belonged to a vengeful spirit, a yūrei who had perished in despair. Its malevolence was bound to the glass, and those who possessed it were tormented by the spirit's relentless anger and sorrow.
Desperate to free themselves from the mirror's curse, Hiroshi and Aiko sought the guidance of a spiritual medium. Through a series of rituals and séances, they made contact with the vengeful spirit trapped within the mirror.
The spirit's story unfolded like a tragic drama—the yūrei had been a young woman in love with a man from a rival clan. Their love was forbidden, and when their secret was discovered, they had both met a grisly end. Her spirit had been bound to the mirror as punishment for her defiance of societal norms.
With the medium's help, Hiroshi and Aiko offered prayers and apologies on behalf of the mirror's original owner, seeking forgiveness for the wrongs committed against the vengeful spirit. They vowed to help the spirit find peace and redemption.
In a chilling climax, they conducted a final ritual, allowing the yūrei to pass on and find the solace she had been denied for centuries. As they gazed into the mirror one last time, they saw the spirit's reflection fade into the distance, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and farewell.
The mirror, now cleansed of its malevolence, became a symbol of hope and renewal for Hiroshi and Aiko. Their family flourished, and the cherry blossoms in their garden bloomed with newfound vibrancy, a testament to the enduring power of love and forgiveness.
"The Mirror's Malevolence" served as a chilling reminder that even the most innocuous objects could carry dark secrets, and that confronting the past and seeking redemption could break the bonds of even the most malevolent curses.
End of Chapter 9: "The Mirror's Malevolence"
Chapter 10: "The Bridge to the Beyond"
In a remote mountain village, isolated from the modern world, a historic bridge served as a link between the living and the dead. When a group of travelers crossed its ancient planks, they would discover the chilling truth behind the bridge's supernatural origins.
Chapter 10: "The Bridge to the Beyond"
Deep within the heart of the Japanese mountains, nestled among ancient forests and shrouded in mist, lay the village of Yamanokawa. It was a place where tradition and superstition still held sway, and the bridge that spanned the river was both a lifeline and a gateway to the unknown.
A group of adventurous travelers, drawn by the allure of Yamanokawa's untouched beauty, embarked on a journey to explore the village's remote reaches. Among them were Kaito, a historian with an insatiable curiosity, and Mia, a photographer who sought to capture the essence of this secluded world.
The village's centerpiece was the Akane Bridge, a weathered structure made of ancient wood and adorned with centuries-old lanterns. Its planks creaked with the weight of history, and the river below whispered tales of lives long gone.
As the travelers ventured deeper into Yamanokawa, they discovered that the villagers held a profound reverence for the bridge. It was said to be a link between the living and the dead, a place where offerings were made to appease the spirits that dwelled in the surrounding forest.
As night descended, the travelers set up camp near the Akane Bridge, its lanterns casting an eerie, flickering glow on the river's surface. It was then that they heard the sound—a mournful melody that seemed to emanate from the bridge itself.
Mia, driven by curiosity, followed the haunting tune to the bridge's edge. There, bathed in an otherworldly light, she saw a figure—a woman in a white kimono, her long hair flowing like an ebony waterfall.
The woman, whose name was Hikari, revealed herself to be a yūrei, a spirit bound to the Akane Bridge for centuries. She had once been a young bride whose love had been torn apart by a tragic accident on her wedding day. Her spirit was eternally linked to the bridge, where she waited for her beloved to return.
Kaito, the historian, delved into the village's archives and uncovered the tragic story of Hikari's past. It was a tale of love and loss, of a bride whose life had been cut short, and a groom whose heart had been forever scarred by grief.
With newfound determination, the travelers sought to reunite the spirits of Hikari and her beloved. They embarked on a journey deep into the forest, following a path laden with offerings and prayers.
At the heart of the forest, they discovered an ancient shrine dedicated to love and reconciliation. There, in a poignant ceremony, they offered heartfelt prayers and apologies on behalf of the villagers and the groom who had never returned.
As the first light of dawn broke over Yamanokawa, a sense of serenity washed over the Akane Bridge. Hikari's spectral form dissolved into the river's mist, her eyes filled with a mix of longing and gratitude.
The travelers departed from Yamanokawa, forever changed by their encounter with the supernatural. The Akane Bridge, now freed from its haunting past, stood as a testament to the enduring power of love and the hope of reuniting even in the afterlife.
"The Bridge to the Beyond" became a legend whispered among villagers, a reminder that some bonds could transcend time and that the spirit of love endured even in the face of eternity.
End of Chapter 10: "The Bridge to the Beyond"

Thyroid disorders, such as hypothyroidism, hyperthyroidism, thyroid nodules, and thyroid cancer, impact millions globally. Despite being common, these conditions often go undiagnosed or misdiagnosed due to their subtle symptoms and complex causes. In today's fast-paced world, the need for effective thyroid wellness solutions is more critical than ever. This blog will explore the necessity for improved thyroid care, the available alternatives, why CureEZ stands out, and real-life examples of how CureEZ has transformed lives.

The Urgency for Thyroid Wellness Today
The Growing Prevalence of Thyroid Disorders
Thyroid disorders are increasingly prevalent, with millions of new cases diagnosed annually. For example, hypothyroidism, where the thyroid gland is underactive, affects approximately 5% of the population, with a higher incidence in women and the elderly. Hyperthyroidism, where the thyroid is overactive, affects about 1-2% of the population.
Several factors contribute to this growing prevalence. Environmental pollutants, dietary factors, and increased autoimmune diseases play significant roles. The impact of stress and lifestyle changes in modern society also exacerbates these conditions.
The Challenges of Diagnosis
One of the primary challenges in managing thyroid disorders is accurate diagnosis. Symptoms such as fatigue, weight changes, and mood swings often overlap with other conditions, leading to misdiagnosis or delayed diagnosis. Traditional diagnostic methods, primarily reliant on blood tests measuring thyroid hormone levels, may not always provide a comprehensive picture.
Moreover, subclinical thyroid disorders, where symptoms are present but hormone levels appear normal, complicate diagnosis further. Patients often face frustration and anxiety due to the uncertainty and inconsistency in their diagnosis and treatment plans.
The Impact on Quality of Life
Untreated or poorly managed thyroid disorders can lead to severe health complications. For instance, hypothyroidism can result in heart disease, mental health issues, and infertility. Hyperthyroidism can lead to severe complications like atrial fibrillation, osteoporosis, and thyrotoxic crisis if left untreated.
The physical symptoms are only part of the story. The mental and emotional toll of thyroid disorders can be profound, leading to depression, anxiety, and cognitive issues. This multifaceted impact underscores the need for comprehensive, accurate, and accessible thyroid care.

Current Approaches to Thyroid Wellness

Conventional Medical Treatments

Medication: The standard treatment for hypothyroidism is synthetic thyroid hormone replacement therapy, such as levothyroxine. This treatment aims to normalize hormone levels, but finding the correct dosage can be challenging and requires regular monitoring. For hyperthyroidism, antithyroid medications like methimazole or propylthiouracil are used to reduce hormone production.
Radioactive Iodine Therapy: Used primarily for hyperthyroidism and thyroid cancer, this treatment involves taking radioactive iodine orally to destroy overactive thyroid cells. While effective, it requires careful monitoring and can lead to hypothyroidism.
Surgery: In cases of large goiters, thyroid nodules, or thyroid cancer, surgical removal of part or all of the thyroid gland may be necessary. This option is usually considered when other treatments fail or when there is a suspicion of malignancy.

Natural and Holistic Approaches

Dietary Changes: Incorporating foods rich in iodine, selenium, and zinc can support thyroid health. For hypothyroidism, iodine-rich foods like seaweed, fish, and dairy are beneficial. For hyperthyroidism, a balanced diet avoiding excessive iodine and goitrogenic foods like soy and cruciferous vegetables is recommended.
Supplements: Nutritional supplements, such as iodine, selenium, and vitamin D, can help address deficiencies that impact thyroid function. However, supplementation should be approached cautiously and under medical supervision to avoid adverse effects.
Lifestyle Modifications: Stress reduction techniques, regular exercise, and adequate sleep are crucial for maintaining overall health and supporting thyroid function. Mindfulness practices, yoga, and other stress management strategies can be particularly beneficial.

Alternative Therapies

Acupuncture: Some studies suggest acupuncture can help alleviate symptoms associated with thyroid disorders. It is believed to balance energy flow in the body, potentially improving thyroid function and overall well-being.
Herbal Remedies: Certain herbs, like ashwagandha and guggul, are believed to support thyroid health. Ashwagandha, an adaptogen, may help regulate hormone levels and reduce stress, while guggul is thought to stimulate thyroid function. However, more research is needed to confirm their efficacy and safety.

Why CureEZ is the Superior Choice

Advanced Diagnostic Tools
CureEZ utilizes state-of-the-art diagnostic tools that go beyond traditional methods. Our AI-powered screening technology analyzes a comprehensive array of data, including medical history, symptoms, and lab results, to provide a more accurate and timely diagnosis. This approach addresses the limitations of conventional blood tests by considering a broader spectrum of indicators.
Personalized Treatment Plans
At CureEZ, we believe that no two thyroid conditions are the same. Our approach is tailored to each patient's unique needs, ensuring that they receive the most effective treatment. This includes personalized medication regimens, dietary guidance, and holistic care strategies. Our genetic testing capabilities allow us to identify specific predispositions, enabling early intervention and more precise treatment.
Innovative Therapies
CureEZ is at the forefront of medical innovation, offering cutting-edge treatments like Radiofrequency Ablation (RFA) for benign thyroid nodules and targeted molecular therapies for thyroid cancer. RFA is a minimally invasive procedure that uses heat to shrink nodules, reducing recovery time and complications compared to surgery. Our targeted molecular therapies focus on specific genetic mutations within cancer cells, providing more effective and less toxic treatment options.
Continuous Monitoring and Support
Our commitment to patient care extends beyond the clinic. CureEZ integrates wearable technology to monitor vital signs and hormone levels in real-time, providing continuous data to adjust treatments promptly. Our telemedicine platform ensures that patients can consult with specialists conveniently, no matter where they are. This approach offers flexibility and continuity of care, crucial for managing chronic conditions like thyroid disorders.
Patient Education and Community Support
We understand the importance of informed patients and a supportive community. CureEZ offers extensive resources and support groups to help individuals understand their condition, share experiences, and stay motivated throughout their treatment journey. Educational materials, webinars, and community forums are available to empower patients with the knowledge they need to manage their health proactively.

Real-Life Transformations with CureEZ
Mamatha's Journey to Recovery
Mamatha, a 35-year-old teacher, had been struggling with unexplained fatigue, weight gain, and depression for years. Despite numerous visits to different doctors, her symptoms persisted. Frustrated and desperate for answers, Mamatha turned to CureEZ.
Diagnosis and Treatment
Using our advanced screening, we quickly identified that Mamatha had hypothyroidism. Our team developed a personalized treatment plan, including the right dosage of levothyroxine, dietary adjustments, and stress management techniques.
The Transformation
Within a few months, Mamatha's energy levels improved, and she began to lose weight. Her mood stabilized, and she felt more in control of her life. Mamatha regularly uses CureEZ's telemedicine platform to check in with her specialist, ensuring her treatment remains effective.

Dilip's Battle with Hyperthyroidism
Dilip, a 42-year-old software engineer, was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism after experiencing rapid weight loss, anxiety, and heart palpitations. Conventional treatments had only provided temporary relief, and he was concerned about the long-term effects on his health.
Diagnosis and Treatment
CureEZ's comprehensive approach included a detailed analysis of Dilip's condition. We opted for a combination of antithyroid medication and Radiofrequency Ablation (RFA) to target the overactive thyroid cells.
The Transformation
Mark noticed a significant improvement within weeks. His heart palpitations decreased, anxiety levels dropped, and he regained a healthy weight. Continuous monitoring through wearable technology helped fine-tune his treatment, ensuring sustained progress. Mark now enjoys a better quality of life and peace of mind.

Conclusion
CureEZ stands out in the field of thyroid care by combining advanced diagnostics, personalized treatment plans, innovative therapies, and continuous support. Our approach ensures that patients receive the most accurate diagnosis and effective treatment, leading to better outcomes and improved quality of life.
If you're struggling with thyroid issues, consider CureEZ for a comprehensive, patient-centered solution. We're here to help you decode your thyroid disorder and transform your life.

References

Host death: confirmed.
Beginning procedure “last wish” after complete memory wipe and return of brain to originating chemistry.
Vessel evaluation: Begin.
Multiple bone fractures and severe lacerations found on all vessel limbs and torso. The left leg is detached from the Vessel completely from the waist down. The right forearm has been snapped and largely shattered. Both lungs have been punctured. Foreign elements and shrapnel lodged in multiple areas of the abdomen and chest, as well as contradicting fire and ice burns located on all parts of the body. Severe charring from said fire burns on the right side of the torso. Vessel’s skull has been impaled by an ice shard; brain is currently incapable of cognitive function even if an immediate revival of basic functions took place. Vessel’s current blood levels are subpar.
Vessel evaluation: complete.
Evaluation-based specialized reconstruction: Begin.
Starting repairs and restoration of body to operating capability, with use of evaluation-based upgrades found from weak points in Vessel. Drawing mana from hidden mana pool reserved for vessel reconstruction and upgrading in case of host death. Forcefully removing foreign shrapnel from the Vessel, as well as a restoration of organs and a return to stable blood levels has taken priority.
Removing all shrapnel and contaminants from the Vessel: Success. Organ restoration and toughening process: Success. Breaking down bone integrity to maximize efficiency and multiply toughness. Stimulation of bone marrow for necessary blood cell quota to be achieved: Success. Manipulating body tissue to repair debilitating burns and lacerations: Success. Repairing shattered arm: Success. Creation of new leg through mana regrowth: Success.
Blood levels have reached the required volume for full body function. Beginning manual heart beating to restart blood flow: Success.
Forceful removal of impaled ice shard from skull: Success. Beginning reconstruction of skull to Regeneration of brain: Success.

Jackie West glanced between the bars and boards on his windows, seeing the sky redden. He set about taking inventory of everything in the one-room cabin. Fresh light bulbs: check. Radio: check. Animal traps under the windows: check. Medical supplies: check. Guns: check. He emphasized the last with a satisfying pull on the slide of his shotgun, checking the chambers of his revolver, then sat in the chair facing the door and per his new routine, he waited.
He began to ponder what had happened for it to come to this. He thought back to the first Eclipse, three months before. It had been a regular day in the small town of Red Leaf, AL. “Town” might have been too generous; it was little more than a small collection of houses, shops, and a tiny police station connected by a crumbling road running through it. One would need to go well out of their way to get here.
Jackie had gone into town to purchase more hunting supplies for the oncoming winter and exchanged small talk with the kindly store clerk, Roger Orson. The clerk had asked Jackie if he’d heard the news about the eclipse that was set to occur. Jackie hadn’t, so Roger advised that he stay inside when it began to get dark; according to the papers, it was set to be a rather long eclipse, lasting at least five hours.
The Shades had appeared soon after the Eclipse came. It had cast an odd dark-red glow over the town. Jackie had gotten back to his cabin a mile and a half away from the town proper, only to find Red Leaf beset by a host of living shadows. Before long, screams erupted from the homes, followed by ghastly, inhuman screeches, the sound of vehicles being destroyed, and ghoulish laughter. His poor townsfolk had been claimed by the Eclipse.
Jackie’s focus snapped back to the present when the radio began to buzz with static. Soon enough, a chorus of distorted, fiendish words began. Whether he was a paragon of willpower or a shameless coward, he couldn’t say, but all he knew was that he never opened up for the creatures.
Five hours, he instructed himself as always. You just need to wait five hours and you’re home free until next time. He kept his eyes trained on the door. There were only a couple of other boarded windows in the cabin, so they didn’t concern him as much as the Shades deciding to barge in head-on, which he knew they could if they wanted. All of a sudden, he heard it. The crackling of leaves underfoot, the sound of objects dragging across the ground, heavy breathing from distorted throats. His grip on the shotgun tightened. Once again, the Shades had come for him.
Looking around, Jackie noted, not for the first time, that the sturdiness of his cabin was matched only by its restrictiveness. He could—and had—held out for a long time in this cabin. However, for all of its safety, he felt as if at any moment, it could squeeze him to death like a boa constrictor. The one-room nature of the structure could only offer so much peace of mind, as it gave him fewer places to check but also fewer places to escape if need be.
As if summoned by this thought, he heard the first of them at his door. The creature began its usual performance of wheezing, snarling, and chittering in a distorted voice. The radio quickly did its duty and broadcast the beast’s message.
“Jackie?” called the twisted, two-toned voice of Roger. “Jackie, open up, bud. I think it’s starting to clear up out here.” Even with the windows boarded, Jackie knew it was lying. He could see rays of the reddened sun slashing through the cracks, rays he dared not enter. He just stuck to watching the door as the radio continued to speak for the beasts. They all spoke with the voices of his neighbors, his friends, just as they always did, except they used a horrific parody of their voices. They always coaxed, begged, screamed, and threatened with the same goal: making him leave the house.
Then another voice chimed in, and as soon as he heard it, he knew that tonight was going to be different.
“Mr. West?” asked the timid, tearful voice of Ken Edwards, once an outgoing, happy-go-lucky young boy who never failed to say hello to Jackie when he came into town. “Can you please let me come in, Mr. West? I don’t like it out here. It’s scary, and something’s wrong with Mama and Daddy.”
The radio’s sadistic interpretation made his heart sink. Each time, there had been some kind of tell, a distortion to the voices that gave off the impression of it belonging to a Shade. But Ken’s voice, though filled with static, sounded as normal as ever.
“Mr. West?” the voice called again, sounding more desperate. “Mr. West, please.” He trailed off in a series of sobs, then continued through them, “Everyone out here’s gotten real mean. Mama and Daddy started fighting, and she hurt Daddy with a knife, then he hurt her with an axe. He kept hitting her over and over again. He grabbed me and…” Fresh terror took the boy’s voice as he began screaming, “Please, let me in! I see him! It’s Daddy, but it’s not! Why won’t you open the door?! Please, Mr. West! He’s gonna hurt me! He—”
The voice was cut off by the sound of a blade striking flesh, followed by choking and failed attempts at screaming in agony as the axe hit the boy again and again. Jackie listened to all of this, feeling bitter tears running down his cheeks. By now, he was feeling sorely tempted to go out there and shoot as many of those bastards as he could, but he remained steadfast. It was an illusion. Then the boy’s voice came back over the radio, only now it was a malicious, croaking cackle.
“You knew about it, Jackie! You knew about the Sun, and you didn’t even warn anybody! Just so you know, it took a lot longer for the boy to die than this. You should have seen the look on his face, Jackie. It was exquisite.”
Growling, Jackie began reaching for the radio, keeping his eyes on the barricaded door.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the voice sang tauntingly. Curious, Jackie looked at the radio, only to find that he was not reaching for the device but now his hand was reaching into the steel jaws of one of the bear traps he had set up. He tumbled out of his chair to pull his hand away from the steel teeth as they just barely missed his hand. The shock of what had just happened seemed to paralyze him as he realized his chair was in a different position than he had initially set it. Then he heard the wild, raucous cackles over the radio and outside as the beasts mocked his mistake. Jackie tried to ignore them, but he was still quite shaken up as he stood the chair back up to face the door.
All of a sudden, the radio fell silent. Then he heard something strike the door hard enough to shake it. He jumped back in shock, then took aim with the shotgun. It shook again and again. Jackie slowly backed up before it burst open. There they were: three deformed, mutilated figures with long, crimson strings attached to their bodies that pulsed like veins and seemed to stretch to the sky. The one on the right carried a pickaxe, the one on the left held a claw hammer, and the middle one held a hatchet. They all grinned madly at him, though even now he wasn’t sure if they were grinning because of the curse or because of how disfigured their faces were at this point. Outside, the moon gazed down on Red Leaf, having taken on the shape of a lidless scarlet eye with a colossal, black pupil. It glowered at Jackie, causing horrific images to flash through his mind. He was nearly taken off his guard as the intruders began their assault.
The middle Shade charged at Jackie in an attempt to swing the hatchet, only for Jackie to blow its leg off with a blast from his shotgun. Blood sprayed everywhere, coating the foyer in a grisly shower of vermillion. It showed no pain, just continued to try and stand on the remaining leg, whereupon Jackie pulled back the slide, ejecting the shell, and shot it in the head. The veins it was covered in seemed to absorb its corpse with a horrid slurping sound.
The other two attempted to do the same as their fallen compatriot, Jackie just barely dodging the pickaxe swinging for him as it lodged itself in the wall. He capitalized on this by pumping the shotgun again and firing at the Shade’s head. Then the monster with the hammer rushed at him, receiving the same treatment. Their ocular puppeteer in the sky slurped them back up.
That was when Jackie heard the chainsaw.
He whirled about in horror as the sound of the tool at one of the rear windows, then he saw the tool cut through the boards. Swiveling his head from his door to the window, he tried to keep himself calm despite knowing that at any moment, he could receive another ambush at the door. He was just hoping that the Shade’s entry through the window would have the results he was hoping for.
Once the boards were cut open, the Shade, a hulking brute of a man, stepped through. Before it could charge at him with the saw, it was halted by one of the bear traps which had bitten into its ankle. Without hesitation, it began to saw away at the leg, but Jackie stopped it with a shot in the chest, then the head.
More Shades began appearing, all bearing makeshift weapons and pierced with the same veins as their predecessors and all receiving the same treatment from his weapon. Now they were getting more aggressive. After killing at least ten more, he aimed for another swinging a large plank of wood, only to hear it click. The Shade swung the plank into Jackie’s left shin. He cried out in pain, but frantically dodged as it tried to bring it down for a finishing strike. Jackie grabbed the hatchet one of the first three had been carrying, then slashed at the veins. An enraged roar sounded from the sky, though whether it was because of control over its puppet being severed or from pain, Jackie couldn’t tell. Either way, it seemed to shake the confidence of the being somewhat, as the Shades suddenly ceased their siege of the cabin.
Jackie stared out at them, confused. He still kept his distance from the red beams of moonlight. Then something new happened. A figure descended from the sky. The Shades all parted, then knelt before it. From a distance, it looked like a man. As it approached, however, Jackie could see the sheer inhumanity of the thing. It too had veins sticking out of it, but unlike the Shades, it only had one vein attached to the moon. Furthermore, all of the veins seemed to run from it into the Shades. The multitude of eyes that coated its sexless, nude figure all resembled the moon, and they all turned their gaze on Jackie before the images raced through his mind again. Then it began addressing him.
Return to us what is ours, thief, it spoke into his mind with soft yet vicious authority. Give to us, the Sanguine Eye, what you have taken, and we shall yet allow you to retain your will. We will let you take the place of this Shade as our Seer. There is no greater honor or pleasure to be found. All you need to do is give us our rightful property.
For an appalling moment, Jackie thought the offer over. Then that moment passed as he saw the moon beginning to move out of the eclipse. It was getting desperate. It was running out of time, so it had resorted to bargaining with him. He responded by removing his revolver, aiming at the Seer and firing at one of the eyes on its torso. It burst open with a cascade of blood and other fluids.
The Seer clutched at the remains of the optical organ in pain, letting out a howl of agony, followed by fury. It pointed a finger at Jackie, then all of the Shades leaped to their feet and charged at the cabin. Jackie began counting the seconds. Just as the Shades entered the cabin and one was about to bring a lead pipe down on his head, the red light from the moon vanished, along with the Shades and their Seer. Sunlight bathed the town of Red Leaf, and Jackie sighed as he lay down, then groaned as he remembered the blow to his leg.
Once he had bandaged his leg, which was thankfully not broken, Jackie headed into the cellar, seated himself at his desk, and took the book out. The design of the hateful, scarlet eye on the cover watched him, judged him. He flipped to the pages with diagrams of an eclipse and hoped the bizarre trance would come over him again, illuminating some means of reversing things. He knew he was responsible for all of this. If he had just left that damn book alone, he wouldn’t have been possessed by the knowledge of what to say to call down the Sanguine Eclipse, as the book referred to it. This was his penance: staying in Red Leaf, surviving the attacks by his former neighbors. The force behind this book, the Sanguine Eye, made no attempt to leave town. Whatever it wanted, it would be incomplete without him. Without the one who summoned the Shades, the “collection” was incomplete. What’s more, it was getting desperate, and he thought he knew why. The book spoke of an event that had always occurred within a year of the Eclipse: the Azure Sun. Evidently, it was the equal and opposite reaction to the Sanguine Eclipse, a force that would cleanse the world of its doings. As long as he drew breath, he was going to make sure the Shades and their master stayed confined to Red Leaf. If he could no longer defend the cabin before the Azure Sun, he would burn it down with him and the book inside. He owed his neighbors that much.

Chapter 1: Archenemies
https://archiveofourown.org/works/49222786/chapters/124201993#main
Eerie. That would be one word most travelers would use to describe nights in Transylvania. The year was 1887 in the middle of November where we find ourselves in the currently chilly region of Romania. Rarely would you ever be able to see the stars out at night due to the heavy mist nor would you get to see the morning sun due to the high mountains and thick clouds. It was a hard and gloomy place to live, but people managed. After all, it took a certain type of person to persevere through such places with many either succumbing to the harsh conditions or falling to the beasts that inhabited the lands. On one night in particular though, it was far more grim for a particular Roma.
Her name was Anna Valerious, and there she was, walking through her town seemingly aimless to the average person. It had only been a few days after her brother, the last living member of her immediate family, had seemingly met his demise, and Anna was in mourning. She had started slacking in her duties and found it harder and harder to get out of bed. Most of the townspeople understood her grief and managed on as best they could without her guidance, but in truth, they needed someone to look to more than ever; a leader.
Anna had eventually found herself at the town’s graveyard, downing a bottle of rum, and looking at the names on each headstone that carried the Valerious name until she finally found her father’s, Boris Valerious. It had been months since she last visited his grave with this also being the first time she visited her brother Velkan’s empty one, as neither Anna or her men could recover a body. She felt lost.
For so many days she struggled to wrap her head around her new reality. The last of her family. The honor and reputation of her entire bloodline is relied soley on her success in killing Dracula, the bane of her family’s existence, but she couldn’t help but wonder. Was she even good enough?
Anna always had a rebellious streak since she was a child and found it difficult to follow in the lessons her father tried to instill in her about the duties of their family as well as the significance of them. It was only after she witnessed firsthand just how ruthless vampires could be after seeing many of her own family die before their intended passings that she finally took her familial obligations more seriously. In spite of this though, Anna had grown to become the more brash between her and Velkan and while she was better at fighting, he was always better at making plans as well as keeping good relations with the people. He was her overprotective and supportive big brother and she’d always love him for that.
She hated that he was gone, that he had left her, and that it was her plan that ultimately got him killed. She was angry more than anything as she looked up to the sky, praying for the answers as to why it had to be her, fighting back her tears as best as she could. Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sudden gust of wind followed by a sultry voice.
”Your sorrow was too intoxicating for me not to find you so easily princess.”
It was Aleera, one of the three brides of Dracula appearing seemingly out of thin air, and one of Anna’s greatest enemies. Her fiery red hair flowed in the wind and eyes flaring their unique indigo with dangerous intent as she slowly approached the princess; a lopsided smirk formed on her lips, basking in the burning anticipation of the confrontation that was about to take place.
Aleera had made a sort of routine out of coming to see the princess at random times over the years. Using whatever excuse she could to leave the castle to see her foe with her intention being to antagonize Anna. The main reason though, being that she actually wished to see her. Not that she believed that anyone would ever understand or that she wanted anyone to. After all, they were supposed to be archenemies or so that’s how Aleera presented there dynamic; claiming that she’d often fantasize about the taste of Anna’s blood or how one would eventually kill the other and how it seemed oh so thrilling whenever they did fight. So it was completely understandable for the few who believed her reasoning. After 100’s of years of boredom, no one had ever gotten her as excited or as invested as Anna did in her development.
In truth, she hadn’t thought much of the girl when she was only a child, finding her impulsiveness and temper cute at best, particularly with how messy and unkempt her hair always was back then when she got into fights with the local kids. As she grew overtime though, Aleera couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Whispers of a temptation started to emerge; birthing a deep desire for the princess.
In moments like those she would wonder how easily it would be to take the girl for herself not just out of spite to the Valerious’s, but her own lustful desires. Imagining how strong she’d be as a vampiress and especially by her side. She would usually discard those ideas though, and simply resided herself to playing with Anna. Seeing how hard the young woman fought to stay alive, knowing that she could easily kill the princess in the blink of an eye; enjoying the fire that would burn within her eyes as she only got better with each encounter as the years passed. On the few occasions that Anna seemingly had the advantage, Aleera was clearly enjoying herself even then. That false sense of security that she provided bolstering the young girl’s confidence, it was….. adorable. Up until that overconfidence inadvertently bit the vampire in the butt whenever Anna got a lucky hit in and managed to escape her clutches. Not that the redhead minded though. She wanted to see her grow and blossom even further. In truth she couldn’t imagine spending her days not seeing the gypsy again as it became something of a light in her otherwise boring grey days spent at the castle.
Sure she loved her master as well as her fellow brides, Marishka and even Verona to an extent, but none of them had ignited the passions she felt when she was with Anna in recent years. She didn’t spend too much time thinking beyond her desires merely being physical, as anything else would make things far more complicated for her.
And here she was, looking for a fight with the princess as if it were merely another day for the two. Walking slowly and sensually as she eyed up her prey. Aleera did her usual taunting trying the get a rise out of the woman, only for those words to fall on deaf ears. That was, until she mentioned Velkan.
THAT was enough to catch the attention of the princess who looked up at the vampire with pure hatred in her eyes. It put Aleera off somewhat as the fire that once illuminated her hazel orbs seemed dimmed, a coldness taking their place. The vampiress said nothing after this, trying to focus on the battle that was about to take place; but this was no battle. Anna was sloppy and she moved far slower than she was capable of. Heavy swings with killer intent in mind, but no precision in her strikes. This was…..wrong Aleera thought to herself. The redhead being upset was an understatement.
After everything they’d been through, THIS was what Anna had to offer her? A pitiful display of swordsmanship as if she was the same rank amateur she was when they first met? Was she TRYING to piss me off? Aleera finally lost her patience as she grabbed the princess, slamming her hard against a nearby tree. “Surely no one would find your body before the night ends right?” She teased in a murderous tone. Anna barely struggled as her hands were placed over her head by the stronger female. “Oh do not worry my love, take comfort knowing I shall weep over your corpse”.
Aleera bared her fangs and screeched loudly to get SOME reaction from the princess again. Anna could only looked away with her eyes closed in shame. Aleera had mixed feelings about this. Why wasn’t she fighting back? This isn’t like her……
So many thoughts had been running in Anna’s mind in that moment though, but the one constant train of thought that kept appearing was that she was a failure. She was no warrior and so, she deserved to die such a pitiful death. She started apologizing quietly to herself as she heard the screams of her brother as he fell to his death at the hands of the werewolf. She remembered her father being whisked away from their home by Dracula himself never to be seen again. She remembered her mother who became sick and died bedridden rather than a warrior’s death. Everything she forced down to continue fighting boiled over to the surface as she broke into tears, choking on her own words as she waited for the redhead to finish her off, but then something unexpected happened. Aleera let her arms free. But Why?
Aleera’s face softened with confusion and concern now. She looked Anna in the eyes and nearly jumped out her own skin when she saw….nothing. There was nothing there, as if her soul had already left her body. And when the tears started to fall she couldn’t help but feel guilty.
She found herself split on what to do. She had already freed Anna out of her clutches, ending there “game”, and she was left to ponder what to do next. It had never truly occurred to Aleera how her and her family’s actions had truly impacted the princess until she saw how broken the poor woman truly was now. That vision of a strong brave warrior princess shattered before her eyes and was replaced with what she saw before her. She wondered when she must have forgotten what it was like to be human, to lose the people she loved. That part of her detested her past actions.
Every slap, every deep cut, bruise, or threat towards Anna came back in a flow of memories as she turned to look at the headstones of Velkan as well as Anna’s father, Boris, only reinforcing the feeling of remorse that had started to form in her stomach. She looked back at Anna who seemed hesitant to get up and try to either run or fight. Aleera was at a loss.
She wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. She wanted to reach out to Anna to reassure her of something. Of what, she didn’t know but the desire to not see her in her saddened state was the driving force for her in that moment. Her fist was clenched from the uncertainty in her mind. They were enemies after all, right? Why should she care, and what could she possibly do to fix what’s seemingly beyond repair? But still, she couldn’t help but take in her scent more as she crouched down to eye level with the other woman. Her need to, at the very least, try inspired her to do what she did next.
Anna flinched when she saw Aleera raise her hand to her face but tried her best not make any sudden movements. Her heart suddenly skipped a beat when she realized what the redhead was doing. She’s, wiping my tears away? It was such an oddly comforting gesture that Anna hadn’t even known the vampire was capable of it, and yet there she was with a surprising look of empathy in her eyes as she placed a warm palm on Anna’s cheek. She was speechless.
She was initially dejected at this though, as she certainly didn’t want Aleera of all people to see her like this, let alone to have her take pity on her. And yet, when she saw Aleera’s hazel eyes had softened and no longer flared with murderous intent, she took pause and relaxed her body against her better judgement. Could think of worse ways this could’ve gone, Anna thought to herself. Before Aleera could say anything, her ears focused in on the princess’s heart.
Previously, even when they had been “fighting”, Anna’s heart rate was steady, but gradually dropped once she was at the vampiress’s mercy. Aleera had noticed the spike a bit after her hand grazed the princess’s cheek. Anna kept her eyes on the redhead, realizing that her gaze had lowered to her chest, making her feel somewhat uncomfortable. What the hell is she looking at? Anna thought, avoiding the lingering gaze of Aleera. Aleera had noticed the color returning back to Anna’s face and noticed the abnormal red tint that started to warm her skin. Was…was she blushing?
Such a small detail and yet if Aleera was capable of doing so, her face would’ve turned red at the realization as well. She knew that what she was doing may have been perceived as perhaps invasive, but it hadn’t occurred to her that Anna would react in such a way. Anna was clearly flustered right now, making Aleera smile slightly at the knowledge. A clear sign that some of the initial tensions had lessened. Anna’s chest started rising more noticeably as Aleera found herself leaning in closer. Her hand sliding down from Anna’s cheek and placing her index finger firmly under the princess’s chin now. She hesitates for a minute before looking back into Anna’s eyes, looking for approval for what she was about to do. What was happening right now, was the last thought on Anna’s mind as she realized that there was nowhere for her to go and that she didn’t want to leave in that moment. She closed her eyes in anticipation.
How could she feel like this towards someone whom she had grown to despise after so many years? They were ARCHENEMIES for God’s sake, these types of feelings shouldn’t even exist, but the fact of the matter was that they’d always been there ever since she first met the redhead all those years ago, and right now, in spite of there past history, Anna needed to feel that closeness desperately. With no one else to go to, Aleera was all that was left. She didn’t want to feel alone, even if it was for a brief moment…
Aleera felt a sense of satisfaction from how willing Anna was in that moment. No fighting, no snarky remarks, running, surprise attacks, just acceptance. What made this moment even sweeter was that the redhead’s desires were seemingly mutual. To what degree for Anna, she couldn’t say, but it was clear that at the very least, the princess wanted THIS as much as her…and yet, it somehow felt wrong to her.
She had dreamt of this level of intimacy with the gypsy far more than she’d care to count and yet for some reason, the moment felt cheap. As if she had caught the princess in an exposed state and was taking advantage of it. Then again, why should she care? This was probably the only chance she’d get to claim her, but for some reason, she actually felt a tinge of guilt. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time? Anna’s scent was intoxicating. A fragrance of perfumes as well as Anna’s warm blood flowed just beneath her pale skin calling out to Aleera as the lines between arousal and hunger became blurred for her, and Satan only knows what Aleera would’ve done to the poor woman if she didn’t have the strength to pull away in that moment.
She had to push away from the princess and cut off her breathing fast in spite of herself, something she didn’t take lightly. She felt her surprisingly fast pacing heart cease to move as she grabbed at her chest at the sudden brush of coldness that washed over her. She looked down at Anna who looked both confused and hurt in that moment. She had to ponder her next few words carefully.
On Anna’s side of things, she was internally frustrated for a number of reasons. What the hell was that? Anna was outright dumbfounded by her own actions, realizing that she wanted whatever was going to happen, and realizing just how disappointed she was that it didn’t. A chill that the princess hadn’t seemed to register at first, had suddenly swept through her body as she struggled against her instinct to shiver from the absence of warmth. Prior to closing her eyes, she stared back into Aleera’s and saw the desire that she knew she had for her, but there was also something else. Something more earnest that she couldn’t quite describe. Whatever it was, in that moment, Anna felt the absence of its inviting shroud and yearned to linger in its embrace, reluctant to let go of it. Whatever doubts she may have felt or fears she may have had had disappeared as she found herself lost in Aleera gaze. If this was another one of her little mind games, she had taken things too far this time. More than anything now, she was upset that the vampire had let go of her, as she craved it deeply after everything she’d been through in the past few days. Aleera owed her that much for interrupting her grieving. And to top it all off, she felt weird about the whole thing. She actually WANTED to be close to Aleera again and even looked up at with pleading eyes, hoping that the redhead would understand her plight.
Aleera always perceived herself as the type of person that goes after whatever and whoever she may desire. But if she had simply kissed Anna, what good would that do for her? Just another concubine in the long list of thralls she’s drained(in more ways than one) over the years. Anna was special and she knew it. And so, her lips started moving. She didn’t know why she was saying what she was saying or why she was saying it, but maybe, just maybe, it was what Anna needed to hear.
In spite of her being more than aware of the true fate of the princess’s brother, she didn’t want to kill the mood of the night and simply focused on Anna faltering in their fight. She expressed her personal disappointment with the gypsy and how she had a duty to everyone who had died before her, reminding her as to why she had been training and fighting her heart out everyday. And just as it seemed as though Aleera was about to leave, Anna finally asked her why she didn’t kill her. The princess wasn’t expecting the answer she received but in all honesty she should’ve known better. Aleera shrugged, telling her that she respected her too much to try and kill her at her lowest. That when the time comes to take her life, she wants her to be full of life like never before before she snuffs out Anna’s flame, snapping her fingers for dramatic effect. This revelation cooled the princess off quite a bit understandably.
She felt like an idiot expecting anything else from the redhead. She mustered up the strength needed to stand up while Aleera strained herself to remain in place to stop herself from helping her. She wiped whatever remaining tears were on her face as she stared the red head down.
With a newfound determination in her eyes, Anna welcomed the challenge, promising Aleera and herself that she would never falter again. Aleera was pleased by this resolve and gave a wicked smile as she took on her demon bat form, silently flying on into the night sky, anticipating their reunion.

Chapter 12
Lacy awoke in a hallway. It was similar to the hallway that she first awoke in. Only exception was that it was covered in blood. Bodies laid on the floor with multiple lacerations. Lacy was already standing up when she had first opened her eyes. She could hear grunting coming from the other side of the hallway. When Lacy moved her eyes to the end of the hallway she saw herself. Looking directly at her was Lacy. This one was covered in blood and was holding the axe that she had. Her eyes looked deranged. In an instant the other Lacy dashed towards the real Lacy. Without hesitation Lacy lifted the axe and dropped it directly onto the imposter's head. The body slumped to the floor and Lacy breathed a sigh of relief. But as she began to continue forward the thought of what she had just done hit her like a bullet. Looking down at your own body would make a sane person go mad. Lacy barely reacted. Turning around she noticed a new hole. She could continue going further. Lacy had no emotion as she stepped into the hole. The only thing on her mind being the voice that she last heard the Elk use. It was unlike no other voice. It was calm but menacing. Like it knew that Lacy could not win. She brushed the thought off and continued pushing forward. She had to face whatever else this place had in store for her. She had to.
Chapter 13
As Lacy stepped through the hole she noticed that she was no longer passing out. Instead she just appears in these new areas. This time she was in a house. The home was run down. It gave Lacy a sense of dread. Walking around the building Lacy looked at the furniture. It was furnished as a normal house. Like a place that a family would enjoy their time in. A sofa was facing a TV. On the screen was an episode of some children's show that Lacy had probably enjoyed when she was younger. Directly in front of the TV was a childrens chair. Looking at the living room gave Lacy a feeling of nostalgia that drowned out the despair of this awful place. “Hello, is anyone here?” Lacy asked but got no reply. Looking around the room Lacy saw a hallway that led into the kitchen. The paint on the walls were peeled off. Entering the room Lacy smelled the stench of death. Moving further in she saw a girl on the table. The body was almost completely decayed. Just as Lacy was about to inspect the body a loud crash erupted from the living room. Picking up the axe and holding it close to her chest Lacy walked through the hallway. In the living room the sofa was flipped upside down as well as the TV. A ghostly wail cried out and Lacy felt herself become cold. Continuing through the living room Lacy noticed a staircase that led up that she had not seen before. Clutching the axe in her hands Lacy walked towards the stairs. As Lacy approached the bottom the lights began to flicker. The steps creaked as she made her way towards the top. Each step she took made her feel colder. Her eyes met the top of the stairs. A ghostly figure appeared to walk across the doorway out of sight. Lacy felt her legs freeze at the sight. The thing she saw seemed to be transparent. Lacy knew what that meant. “How the hell do I kill a ghost?” Pushing up the stairs there was a hallway. Two doors on each side with one door at the very end. Continuing forward Lacy opened the first door on her right. Inside was the bedroom of someone older. The bed was made and aside from the cobwebs and dust everything was in order. As Lacy turned around to go through the other door, another crash could be heard. Lacy turned around to the furniture ripped to shreds. The bed was torn in half and the dresser was opened with all of the clothes spread on the floor. Another chill ran through Lacy's body. A quiet whisper entered Lacy’s ears. The words were spoken too fast to be made out. It was so quiet Lacy had to focus to hear it. Continuing forward Lacy opened the first door on the left. Inside was a bathroom. The bathroom was pristine. No dust or cobwebs. Just a white pristine bathroom. The shower curtains were closed. Lacy walked towards the curtains. The curtains shifted as if there was someone behind them. Lacy reached her hand towards the curtains. Another chill ran through her body as the whispers got slightly louder. Moving the curtains, the tub was empty. Lacy breathed a sigh of relief. As she turned around to face the door the room became a dark blood red. Lacy looked at the doorway and saw a girl. The child could not have been older than twelve. Lacy froze at the sight. The kids arm outreached and pointed towards the door at the end of the hallway.
Chapter 14
Just as fast as the kid appeared she disappeared. Lacy peaked her head out of the door and viewed the door at the end of the hallway slowly open. A red light emitted from the room. Lacy stepped towards the open door. The whispers that she had heard were getting louder the closer she got to the room. As she got closer the whispering became clearer. It was gibberish. Nothing that she heard was legible and it was loud enough for Lacy to understand. The door was fully opened by the time Lacy got to it. In the room was a red symbol on the ground surrounded by candles. The room was dark, only lit by the candles and the miniscule glow of the symbol. The image was hex. In the middle was a book. Walking towards the hex Lacy noticed a mirror. Looking into the mirror Lacy found the source of the whispering. Floating behind her with its hands on her soldiers was the ghost child. The boy's eyes were black and was whispering in her ear at an inconceivable speed. The image shocked Lacy. Turning around, the boy was not there. Looking back at the mirror Lacy could still see the child behind her. Looking back at the hex, Lacy saw the girl sitting in front of the book. As Lacy stepped closer to the book the whispering became louder. Sitting in front of the girl Lacy grabbed the book. The title of the book was Goodnight Moon. The little girl pointed to the book. Lacy opened it and began reading from the pages. “In the great green room, there was a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of a cow jumping over the moon.” As Lacy read the whispering became even louder. “And there were three little bears sitting on chairs. And two little kittens and a pair of mittens.” Lacy continued reading. Lacy turned her head around to the doorway to see a multitude of people in robes coming up the stairs. The people were making a haunting moan as they stepped towards the room. Lacy read more and more. “Good night moon, goodnight cow jumping over the moon. Good night light and the red balloon, goodnight bears, goodnight chairs.” The choir was getting closer to the door and the whispering was growing louder and louder. Lacy continued reading. Just as the choir got to the door. “Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.” As Lacy said the last words, the noises around her went quiet. Lacy looked up and the girl was gone. The choir was no longer at the doorway. And looking into the mirror the boy was no longer whispering into her ear. The entire house was silent. Lacy looked back at where the book was. In its place was another hole. Lacy looked at it with dead eyes. Knowing what was about to happen.
Chapter 15
Lacy awoke in a study. The room was undisturbed. In front of her was a desk, multiple insect and other animal taxidermies were spread throughout the room. On the desk was a plaque that read Professor Crawford- Biology Expert. Above the desk on the wall was a quote marked in blood. The words read “Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here”.
Lacy looked behind the desk and in it was a skeleton holding a bible and a gun in his hand. Lacy looked back at the desk and found another tape recorder. Lacy grabbed it fearing what she was about to hear. Pressing the button Lacy heard a familiar voice.
Day one:
Our explorers found a mysterious hole in the middle of Israel. The men decided to not interact with it and instead immediately report it. The Overseer immediately demanded that a base should be made around the anomaly. Preparation immediately began on the base but unfortunately a couple managed to get past security and decided to step into the hole. That couple was not seen again. The building was finally made and studies on the hole began. Originally studies were done externally. The scientist discovered that it had no gravitational force, radiation, or mass. It dumbfounded them because of its existence as a hole. Then the physical tests started. At first they just threw things into the hole. The objects would just bounce off.
Day:15
Today is the day that they decided to send in a test subject. Some guy that worked in human resources. They offered him a high paying job, not telling him the gravity of the situation. They had a rope tied to him but when he stepped through the rope burned off. The man was never seen again. Later in the day they sent another man this time with a video recorder. When the man stepped into the hole the recording stopped abruptly. The scientists were confused at the entire situation. The only thing that they could do was monitor the size of it to make sure it was not growing.
Day: 23
The Overseer has lost her mind. She started kidnapping people to put into the hole. At first it was criminals, then it moved on to the homeless, then they started putting innocent people into the hole. She claimed it was to just see if someone could escape it. I have to tell the police what is going on. The people must know what has happened to their loved ones.
Day: 24
Someone found out I was going to tell the authorities. The Overseer has ordered me to go into the hole. I'm bringing this tape recorder with me. I will survive whatever this is. I will tell the world the horrors of these people.
Lacy Put down the recorder. Tears began to flow down her eyes. She didn't know if the truth made her feel better or worse than when she didn't know. She now knew that her chances of escaping were little to none. Looking at the corpse on the ground she noticed another tape recorder. Grabbing it Lacy pressed play.
Day:
I don’t know how long it has been. I don’t want to keep going. Hole after hole I can not find my way out of this place. I steppin into a place that had a lodge. I heard voices mocking me. Telling me things that I didn’t want to believe. Then an Elk appeared. In its voice I heard something that sounded malevolent. It speaked of this place referring to the holes in itself. The being was demonic. I shot it and another hole appeared. I kept going. I don’t even remember how many holes I have been through. This room will be my last. My hope is gone. That is what the Elk wanted. That is why I can feel myself rotting away. I'm sorry to those I left behind. I have given up. Hell has won.
The tape recorder ended. Lacy looked at the corpse. Looking back to the door of the room Lacy saw another hole. Tears ran down Lacy’s cheek as she stepped through the hole. Hanging on to what little hope she had left.
Chapter 16
Lacy awoke in a familiar place. The hallways were dingy. The lights were flickering. Lacy’s face was burning as her heart rate increased. “Lacy” The voice made Lacy’s blood run cold. Looking into the darkness The Smiling Man stepped into the blinking lights. Lacy’s legs could not move. She was crying so hard her eyes hurt. The Smiling Man walked towards her. His eyes widened as his smile became wider revealing the blood stained teeth. Lacy tried to move. She remembered the words on the recorder. It won't end. Lacy did not move. She looked directly at The Smiling Man. Lacy closed her eyes accepting what little mercy this place offered. The Smiling Man ran towards her plunging his teeth into her neck. Lacy felt her life fading away. Remembering her father she let out a smile.
Epilogue
Lacy awoke. She had remembered dying. “Lacy”. The same voice rang through her ears. Lacy stood up. She was holding the same kitchen knife she found in the beginning of all of this. Lacy could feel her body run cold. “It won't end.” Lacy muttered these words over and over again. The Smiling Man entered the light. Lacy raised the knife. Covered in blood, Lacy repeated the words.
“It won't end.”

This is probably a longer story than it really is, but I am just trying to give as much context as I can.
In grade 11, me (F16-17) and my ex-friend (F16-17) were best friends. For some context, we both became friends fairly early in high school. In my country high school is from grade 8-grade 12. I joined the high school in grade 8 from out of city, the high school is just closer to me than the one in my city, so I was a new kid. I made some friends in grade 8 as a new kid but those friendships did end in grade 9. Grade 9 is when my best friend, we'll call her Emily, transferred to the school. And we formed a friendship. Through grade 9 we had formed our own little friend group with 2 other girls, we'll name them Clara and Sabrina. It was the 4 of us through majority of high school. We would always text each other, always hang out after school, spend any break we had at school together and had as much fun as any girls in high school could have (minus the partying because my school is not a partying school).
Emily and I were the closet in the friend group, afterall we were pretty similar and come from similar backgrounds (We're both a type of asian). We both would be described as the smart kids. We both would end up getting high grades in all of our classes. In grade 9, when we met, she told the friend group her dream was to become a doctor like her parents were, so she studied extra hard in high school to keep her grades high. I, on the other hand, did not really have any specific dreams. I wanted to become a writer or even a lawyer (but was worried because I'm not the best speaker). Due to that, I never tried that hard at school. Like i care about grades, my parents cared a lot about me getting high grades, but I wasn't studying for anything. And with that I never really studied either, I would do my homework and pay attention in class and take pretty notes but I was not spending any real time after class to do work Which is something that Emily would do. She would spend hours and hours a day just studying. If she wasn't studying she would be doing some volunterring or some club stuff.
Fast forward to grade 11. Right from the beginning of the year something just felt odd about our relationship. She seemed distant. Which I chalked up to it being we were now considered seniors at our high school so she was starting to stress about universities already, but it was still whatever. My school worked in semesters, so for half of the year we would have 4 specific classes which would then switch to different classes in second semester. During first semester I didn't have any classes with any of my friends. I was just chilling in all of my classess and getting adopted into different group friends in those classes. I was always well-liked in high school, I was not a popular kid. But compared to all the smart kids in the school, I was deemed the nicest so because of that everyone would be nice to me and friendly (even though I know for some of them it was so they could get hw answers out of me, but they were still very nice to me).
During this time, my friends and I would make up plans to hang out. We always made it a point to hang out at least once a week outside of school. It was always after school, we would usually study, walk around or go to the mall. In our gc on insta we would always double check with one another on which days to do it. Clara, Sabrina and I would always talk in the gc and were always the ones initiating the plans. Emily was also in the gc but would rarely reply to anything. Any times we would make plans to hang out, Emily would either not reply (which would then lead us to asking her during lunch the next day if she was free, where she would barely talk) or she would just say no to all plans. The few times she would say yes, she would always cancel the day of. Which would be annoying, and Clara, Sabrina and I would talk amongst ourselves that we found it odd she would always cancel and never want to hang out outside of school, but we were like it's not that big of a deal. She could just be busy.
We then just ahead to my birthday. Now i have an early birthday and it falls around the time that we come back to school after the winter break. Now during the winter break, Clara, Sabrina and I formed a seperate gc as it would just be the three of us talking and making plans. We also always took so many pictures and felt bad about sending it into the gc with the four of us in it as we didnt want Emily to feel bad about not coming. So we figured it was better if we kept it seperate. But in the main gc, I just ask when is everyone free to do something small. I'm not really a birthday person. Since high school, all my birthdays include going to some cozy restauraunt with my 4 closest friends and just having a casual dinner. So I ask and everyone leaves their responses, including Emily. We decide on a day, it would be after school just a day or two after my actual birthday and we would be going to a restuarunt and an arcade nearby (I have strict parents so I really wasn't allowed to go out late or really go out anywhere far). The plan is made and everything is set. When the day comes for the dinnearcade, we all meet up by our lockers to go take the bus together.
The 3 of us are there waiting for Emily to come and she does just a few minutes late. That is when she tells us she can't come because she has a club meeting today, and she told us it was mandatory for us to attend. Now of course my friends and I tried to convince her to blow it off just this one time, but she was adamant about going. So, whatever. We say bye to her and start walking to the bus. While walking there we bump into a mutual friend, also waiting for the bus. She is also in the same club, so we confused why she was here. We do ask her, saying "hey isn't there something happening with the club today?" That is when she tells us there was just this small meeting recapping what had happened in last weeks meeting for the people who missed it. Meaning the meeting was not madatory at all, especially when Emily had cancelled our plans last week to go to this said meeting. Meaning she did sort of lie to get out of going to my birthday party. I of course was hurt by this. When she told us she had to go to the meeting, I didn't think much of it as I knew how much school mattered to her and how much doing this club stuff mattered. But she had the choice to come, and she decided to just blow me off. We went out and had fun and didn't bring the matter up with her. We figured it was just her caring a bit too much about school.
Anyways this whole cancelling plans last minute, ghosting the main gc thing happened more and more. It also got to the point where if I wanted to talk to her, whether that was through text or in real life I would always have to approach her first. As this carried on for a while, i of course was getting a bit annoyed about where this friendship was going.
We now get to Emily's birthday a month later. Now Emily decided to plan her birthday, very last minute. I am just pointing this out as i am not a person who can do spontaneous plans, one because i have this need to plan properly and two because I do have strict parents. So i can't just spring a plan on them the day of and expect to go. Which is something Emily knows. Anyways she makes the plan and i tell my mom about it to ask if i can go and she says yes. The day before, Emily then decides to change the plan entirely. We were going to go into downtown city (for context, it's roughly 2 hours transit from our neighborhood). I obviously had to ask permission as she wanted to stay out late which is not something my parents would like, so when Emily told us at lunch the change in plans, Clara, Sabrina I told her we had to double check if we can still go as we all have strict parents, but our extended friend group were all down to go.
After school, the four of us head into the bathroom, which is a toally normal thing for high school girls to do before we headed out. While there Emily then decides to start a fight with me about not going to her birthday, which hasn't happened yet. She starts yelling at me about how Im mad that she didn't go to my birthday and am not going to hers as revenge (I'll be honest, I kinda forgot she didn't go). And starts yelling at me about how I'm being a bad friend and frankly a b*tch. And when I say she is screaming at me, I mean there is the largest echo circling our bathroom as she yells at me. Now I'm just standing there, trying to reason with her. I'm just trying to explain to her that i didn't say i wasn't coming, i just needed to get permission to go, which is something that Clara and Sarbina said as well but Emily wasn't saying anything about them. She proceeded to just yell at me for a solid 5 minutes. Another girl did walk into the bathroom, saw Emily yelling and just left, which I feel bad about. I do not do well with someone yelling at me, so I just tell her that I'm leaving now and we can talk later. I practically run out of the bathroom and out of school. Clara runs up to me and says i can't go home feeling like this. I felt horrible, i felt like throwing up. So Clara makes it her job to cheer me up as Sabrina is trying to calm Emily down. Clara takes me to Mcdonalds, where we split a meal as that became a tradition of ours and she bought me ice-cream to make me feel better. We end up spending roughly and hour and half there before starting to walk back to our houses. I did feel a lot better and I was smiling. Clara didn't really say much about what happened as she knew it would upset me. She just said that Emily was being mean and left it at that. At some point during our walk, Emily calls Clara and starts screaming at Clara over the phone about choosing "my side". I only know it was Emily because I can hear her screaming through the phone and Clara is trying to be nice to her and say she was comforting her friend like a good one would do. Emily continues screaming and Clara just hangs up on her.
We don't talk about it. Now the next day, at school, is Emily's birthday. I feel so awkward. Because i'm still upset about what happened. When I see her, I'm not sure if I should wish her a happy birthday. I feel like I am owed an apology first. so i don't really say anything to her. and we don't really talk. Now we are in the same Chemistry honours class together and are lab partners. So we have to talk. I ask her, if we're going to talk about what happened. And she just says, no, it's my birthday. I just say really but she doesn't say anything after. So Im just like, fine, whatever. We spend the entire class in awkward silence, and I do not see her again the entire day. Even at lunch because she has a club meeting or something. Clara, Sabrina and I all agree that we don't want to talk about it. Clara got an apology text last night but she was still mad about being yelled at over the phone. Sabrina asked us if we wanted to know what her and Emily talked about yesterday but i said no. I was frankly too mad and knew if anything was said, I would be upset. Emily did not end up having a birthday party. and there is now an awkward silence between the 4 of us. it's like a horror movie, where the music is playing and you just know something bad is coming and you have to wait for it.
A few days later, I know i have to say something. I can feel that our friendship is hanging by a thread and I want my best friend back. So at lunch, while we're all sitting by our lockers I bring up the topic. I do not remember the conversation that took place. All I know was that Emily was practically screaming in my face, in front of all our friends (Clara, Sabrina and 5 of our other friends). Everyone is trying to get her to stop, but she keeps yelling at me. At some point I just start crying. Now this is the first time, that someone outside of my family, has ever made me cry. Its the first time I have ever cried at school too. The tears are flowing down my face as I just say "i'm sorry i cant do this" to the rest of our friends as i had off to the bathroom to calm down. Clara and one of our other friends rush off with me to try to calm me down and stop the tears. But they keep coming. I can't stop them and am now in the bathroom splashing my face with water and doing my best to wipe them all away. Clara, this other friend and i all have the same class next. So they have to literally drag me to class as I'm sort of paralyzed about whats happening. When we get to the classroom, everyone there, which was half of the class is looking at me and seeing my red, teared-up face. Our seats are at the very back corner of the classroom, on the very opposite side from the door. So i have to walk past the entire face as they all stare at me and wonder whats happening. the entire time im not really paying any attention. during little work periods in the class, my fellow classmates would walk up to me and ask if im okay. which i would say yes, i was even though i wasnt because what else could i say. I ended up powering through the rest of the day before going home and wonderign what to do.
In the secret gc, I text with Clara and Sabrina about what my next steps should be. They suggest we have an actual therapy session as a friend group to discuss if we even want to be friends at this point. I agree to this. I even start writing up my own speech I am going to tell Emily when i see her.
So I'm just going to jump ahead to whenever this happens. It's during lunch, outside on the grass field. I am calm, I know what to say and everything. I'm sitting there with Clara and Sabrina has to literally drag Emily out of school to come and talk. I kid you not. We have like an hour for lunch. It takes 20 minutes for Emily to finally show up. And she shows up like, "ugh what are we even doing here? im kinda busy" and just acts like there is nothing at all wrong. I start to calmly explain to her how ive been feeling the entire year. I do not remmeber the conversation. But what I remember talking about is how i feel like she's distant, she's always cancelling plans, im always the one texting her first, about how she gets mad at me for small little things, how she yells at me, etc. My whole speech was about how "i don't want to feel like sh*t for trying to continue this friendship". Because even after the first time she yelled at me, I just wanted an apology and we could move on and that didn't happen. And now Im just like I don't want to cry again and don't want my tears to come from someone who's supposed to be my best friend. She does argue her case in this. Her whole thing is how "i'm being clingy and annoying and controlling".
Now for her arguement, I think it should be known more about my persoanlity type. I am not the best people person. I have social anxiety and how that manifests in me is that i can't really talk to people that well. I don't know how to converse and get incredibly nervous to talk to anyone new. So when I do become friends with someone, I do latch on to them. I talk to them all the time, when i can, and they become my person. I think that is where the clingy party comes from. For the controlling/annoying thing, I can only chalk it up to me always texting her. Like i said, i would always have to be the one initating our conversations and plans. So our chats always look like 5 bubbles of text from me (because i am the person that types in multiple bubbles rather than one large text bubble) and her short responses. When it comes to plans, as I said i do not do spontaenous plans. I need to have them properly organized for both my parents sakes and my sake. I'm not someone who plans everything out minute by minute, I just need to know times and places. And if you are actually free.
Thankfully this time, Emily isn't yelling at me however she is talkimg a bit loudly. Now at this point we have spent 25ish minutes talking about this when she suddently gets up and says "i have to go otherwise i'll be late for my class and get in trouble". Which there is still 15 minutes before lunch ends. And her classroom is across the hallway from my next class with Clara. The walk from the grass field was literally 2 minutes. Our coversation wasn;t done. There was no convlusion and no real understanding on either part. So all of us get up as Emily starts speed walking and we all chase her. We're all telling her there is still so much time left, but she doesn't listen and still carries on. So then I say, "i don't want to be friends anymore if this is what it's going to be like". and she says "fine." and walks away. and that was the end of our friendship.
It was almost spring break and our friends were doing their best to navigate the situation. I think they believed we both needed time to cool down and we can all be friends again. However that didn;t happen. Emily and i agreed to be civil as we still had the same friend group but she never really hung out with us in the next couple days, or talked during lunch and that was it.
The two of us did not talk at all. The only times we did was in our Chemistry class, where she did the most un-civil thing ever. As I said we were lab partners. Anytime we had any lab, involing the microscope, I would always be the person doing the microscope work as Emily writes down the results of what I found. I would then get the numbers or obersations from her and add them to my worksheet as our teacher wanted us to work in partners but submit our own work. This one lab went off for too long and the bell rung. So as we are packing up quickly, I ask Emily for the numbers she wrote down. She said she's late for something and will send me the numbers later today. And I'm like fine. She never did. It was also a Friday so we went into the weekend and she never sent me anything. I did text her once on Saturday and another time on Sunday if she could send it. but she never replied and i just asked another classmate if they could send me their answers. If our teacher asked why did we as partners have different answers, I was going to tell him Emily wouldn't give them to me. He never did ask and that was the last time we really talked.
We then headed into spring break which ended up turning into the pandemic lockdown. Now I feel so bad when saying this, as i know this was a difficult time for so many people. But me as a 17-year-old high school studnet, loved the first few weeks of lockdown. I saw it as a mental health break as all the stuff that went down with Emily did in fact put me into a depression phase (I actually do have depression and i do end up in mini-phases where its really bad). The lockdown gave me time to breathe as it felt like i was holding my breath for so long and i could relax. Now in the fall, our school did a hybrid for our last year. Which was fine, it was weird but managable. Emily did not talk to me, Clara or Sabrina at all during our seniour year. We graduated and my friends and I had the best time we could under pandemic restrictions.
Current day, I (21) am now in university. Clara and Sabrina and I are as close as ever and have managed to keep our friendship alive and strong even 3-4 years outside of high school and while all attending different universities. We still hang out regularly (once every week or so) and text all the time. And would you believe it, Emily goes to my university. Remember, how I said she wanted to become a doctor. Yeah so her plan was to go to university in Toronto for some medicine thing. I don't really know. She didn't do that. Instead she stayed in our city and decided to do business instead. What am I doing, you ask? Also business. Now I know I can't claim a school, or a major or anything like that. But i can't lie, im a little annoyed that she decided to swtich her career path to the same as mine. Thankfully Ive only had one class with her and it was one of those big lecture halls so i didn't have to talk with her. Just seeing her tho reminds me of high school and i can feel my blood pressure rising and me sweating as all the nerves and stress come back.
Anyways Clara and Sabrina's birthdays are coming up. Their birthdays are within the same week so since high school, they've always just done one big combined party. The two of them are both really chill people, they are friends with everyone and anyone. So as their coming up with their birthday plans, they are thinking of their guest list and Emily is on it. Now, Clara and Sabrina did ask me beforehand if they could invite her. They do want to make sure I am comfortable. They both tell me that they don't really talk to her anymore, maybe once every 3 months or something. They also haven't hung out since high school. But for their 21st birthday they are thinking of inviting everyone from our high school friend group to have sort of a mini-reuinion. I am down for it, I do think i have moved on, in the sense that I know I do not want Emily in my life. I do tell them I will probably feel awkwad but I can manage for one night for their birthday.
As I'm telling my sister (F16) about Clara and Sabrina's party and who's coming, she asks me about Emily. She basically says if Clara and Sabrina are fine with inviting her, that means they have forgiven her for high school stuff, so am I not being a bit mean for holding on to my feelings? I am a person who believes there is no expirational date on any pain caused by a person. I should not have to "forgive and forget" a person, who has not asked for it and who caused me so much pain just because that is how the world has worked. But it go me thinking, am i being a bit rude?
So, two questions: AITA for what happened in high-school? (am i in the wrong for the friendship breakup) and AITA for not wanting to forgive her?
A FEW NOTES: (i'll add more when i think of it)
I have not spoken to Emily since grade 12. Not in person, not through people, not through text. We have had no contact with one another and i am fine with that. I do not want any relationship with her.
Clara and Sabrina are two of the sweetest people in my life. It does not hurt me at all they have the odd interaction with Emily at all. Afterall they do say its very minimal contact and the few times they have made plans with Emily included, they let me know well in advance, ask if its okay to invite her and all that. Each time I say its fine because I know Im in a good place to not feel bad.
I have never yelled at Emily. Nor have I ever spoken badly about her. With our mutual friends I might complain about the situation, but I never say anything bad about her. I should also say, Emily i don't think was well-liked. As I said the two of are good students, the smart kids, whatever else you want to say. However Emily is what would be described as a "teacher's pet" and does give off an arrogant vibe at times towards others. Some of my other friends/classmates would sometimes make comments about this to me, but i would always sort of downplay it. Like, oh that's not how she really is, she just cares a lot about school. A few times I would say the comments are harsh to some of the classmates. Her, on the other hand, has called me a controlling b*tch to several people. who have all told me about it. She did bad-mouth to quite a few people.
At some point in grade 11 (not really relevant to the main story, but might be part of the reason Emily's always made at me), but I was blamed for a rumour going around that Emily had a crush on this guy in our grade. Emily and I had to go to this one teacher's class for some notes or something. And in the class was this girl who I didn;t really like. So before we walk in I whisper to her, no one can hear, that "hey there's that girl i don't like". Emily then makes it so obvious that she is looking at this girl. And next to her is one of the popular boys in our class. Emily makes it so obvious that shes looking in his direction and does it a few times, that the rumour she likes this guy becomes a huge joke in our grade. She does not like this guy, never has liked this guy, but it is a joke that him and his friends carry on. This continues for the entire year, and Emily in our therapy session does mention this fact. She says its my fault that this joke has gone around. I don't see how.

Chapter 5
Lacy opened her eyes and saw flashing colorful lights. She heard carnival music playing from loudspeakers. She wondered to herself what this place was walking around. She saw multiple vendor stands and carnival games. Everything looked abandoned, food dropped on the floor and chairs flipped. She continued walking, finding a carnival ride. It was one of the droppers. Lacy had memories with her mother going on these kinds of rides. She pushed on following the stands until she stumbled upon a circus tent. She stepped inside and saw a man. The man was very tall and was standing in the middle of the tent. The man turned around and the lights to the tent turned on revealing that the man was a clown on stilts. The clown had a white face with a red nose. His hair was red and was split in two making it look like he had horns. He had on an oversized shirt that looked like multiple blue and red shirts stitched together. His pants were baggy and had obvious blood stains. The stilts made him about ten feet tall. The clown wore a frown on his face, giving Lacy a sense of uncertainty. “What's your name little girl, I have all sorts of tricks that can make you laugh.” The clown's voice was goofy and lighthearted compared to the frown on its face that it kept. “Ah come on, don't be shy. We can still have fun. Not like all of the other’s who left.” Lacy noticed a man lying in a pool of blood next to the clown. He was wearing ringmaster attire. The clown noticed that Lacy saw the body. “He didn’t laugh. Just like the others.” The clown's voice had changed. He now sounded like an older man who had given up on feeling joy. “Did you kill that man?” Lacy asked, already knowing the answer. “No. I released him. He didn’t laugh. He had no joy. So I released him.” Lacy began to back off, gripping her knife. The clown revealed a sword it was holding behind his back. It had blood on it. “I’ll release you too”. The clown began stepping towards her, laughing while doing so. “God Dammit not again” Lacy ran throughout the carnival grounds with the clown closely behind her. She noticed a security trailer. She got to the door and it was locked. Hearing the laughter getting closer. She slammed her body into the door until it finally broke open. The laughter ceased. Lacy looked around the office not seeing anything special. Until she saw a tape recorder.
Chapter 6
Lacy grabbed the recorder. “Who would even have time to make these?”
This is Professor Crawdord. I have managed to survive in this obscure world for what feels like multiple days. This new threat, the clown on stilts seems to be less of a problem than he looks. He’s slow compared to other things I have faced. I discovered evidence as to who this person is. His name is Daniel Larson. He worked at the circus for most of his life. One could only imagine the mind of someone who is laughed at all day for most of their lives. On an unfortunate day Larson snapped and murdered a man on the fairgrounds. The man was another attraction. His specialty was swallowing swords and evidence showed that Larson used the sword to kill him. Larson continued killing, focusing on people that would not laugh at his jokes. The Ringmaster called showtime and at the start of the show Larson told him a joke in front of the audience and when the Ringmaster did not respond Larson killed him. The audience rushed out and as the police showed up Larson had disappeared. Upon searching his trailer they found pictures of other unsolved murders in the area. Larson was never caught. I have not figured out exactly what the holes are but I feel that Larson has to be connected somehow. These holes have a requirement to open. A death must take place for them to appear.
Lacy set the tape recorder down understanding now what had to happen. Lacy looked at the knife in her hand. “He’s a murderer. He’s hurt people. I'd be doing the world a favor.” Lacy opened the trailer door and followed the laughter leading to the circus tent.
Chapter 6
Lacy reached the entrance to the tent, peering inside she saw Larson standing over the ringmaster's body. Lacy moved underneath the stands. Larson turned towards the entrance and began walking around the tent. “I know you're here child.” Lacy ran throughout the underside of the stands. Trying to find an angle to see Larson and which direction he was facing. Lacy could see Larson was searching for her. The stilts made him move slow enough for her to sneak up on him easily. Slowly moving throughout the tent, Lacy got close enough behind Larson to hear him mumbling something to himself. Running towards Larson she kicked the stilts causing him to fall to the ground. Lacy took the opportunity to stab the clown in the shoulder. Larson kicked Lacy away and swept the sword in her direction, cutting her on the leg. Lacy turned to run towards the opening of the tent, but Larson grabbed her foot and lifted the sword. “You’ll pay like they did.” Lacy kicked Larson in the face, got up and ran to leave the tent. “DON’T LEAVE! YOU HAVEN'T LAUGHED YET!” Lacy could hear Larson limping behind her, now off the stilts. She ran until she could no longer hear Larson behind her. “The dropper, I can distract him with the dropper.” Lacy avoided Larson, eventually making her way to the dropper. She didn’t know how to work the machine so she had to guess until she got it right. “Come on, you stupid machine.” Pressing multiple buttons, Lacy could hear the laughter of Larson creeping slowly towards her. Finally the ride shot up into the sky. Larson stepped onto the platform of the dropper. “I found you, please stop. I'll lose everything if you don't laugh.” Lacy took notice of the dropper rushing towards the ground. Just as Larson swiped his sword down at Lacy, she dodged out of the way. As Larson tried to get his footing back, she pushed him under the dropper. The machine crushed him ending the vile man’s savage slaughter. Lacy turned around to see at the bottom of the platform a hole had appeared. “Please, let me go home.” Lacy stepped through the hole, once again blacking out.
Chapter 7
Lacy awoke to a wooded area. She noticed a sign that said “The Weeping Woods”. “Where am I? Am I home?” Standing up she followed a trail marked that led to a camping area. She saw multiple benches and what seemed like a campfire that was put out. She continued along the path seeing a fire watch tower in the distance. “Maybe that place has people”. Continuing to the tower she could hear someone crying from a distance. Lacy kept pushing on the trail until she reached the bottom of the watch tower. The stairs felt endless as Lacy could hear the hissing of a radio coming from the room on top.She noticed that one of the stairs as well as the railing was damaged. Lacy skipped that step in fear of it breaking. Reaching the top everything felt nauseatingly small. She could see a light moving in the distance. The light moved erratically as if it was a person holding a flashlight, running away from something. Lacy turned to the watch room and noticed that the lights were on and someone was trying to reach the radio in the room. Pulling open the door she walked up to the radio and as she tried to contact the person on the other side, the radio shut off. Turning to examine the rest of the room Lacy noticed another tape recorder. Grabbing the recorder she pressed play.
I managed to kill the smiling man. I don’t know what it has done to me emotionally. It seemed so easy at the time. I told myself that the man was a beast. Anyway, I awoke in a forest, I found a path and followed it until I found a woman. The woman was sitting in the middle of the path. She was wearing a white dress that was covered in dirt. I could not see her face, but I could hear her. She was crying and her body looked frail. As I got closer I noticed her hair was long enough to cover her entire face. She asked me a question. “Have you seen Kevin?” I had no answer. Fear took over every part of my body. I could feel my muscles start to ache at the thought of having to run from this girl. A loud growl came from the girl. It shaked my very soul. I managed to escape to her. I made my way to the watch room where I will rest for a while. To whoever finds this tape, you know what you have to do.
Lacy put the recorder down. Looking out of the window she saw the light continue to move in the forest before it stopped. As Lacy turned to leave the watch room. The light disappeared.
Chapter 8
Walking along the path that the light she saw was on, Lacy couldn't help but see the image of the girl the Crawford had described in her head. Looking at the knife she still had, she knew there was only one way to get out of this forest. Along the trail Lacy found the light source that she had seen. It belonged to a man that was lying still on the floor. His flashlight was still on. “Hey, are you alright?” Lacy asked the body. Turning the body over Lacy stepped back in horror. The man's body was pale and looked shriveled. Lacy brushed the fear off and picked up his flashlight. As Lacy picked it up she heard a voice from behind her. “Have you seen Kevin?” Fear erupted in Lacy as the words were familiar to her. Remembering the recorder she slowly stood up before turning around to face the being. The girl was exactly as described in the tape. Except for one detail. She had a wedding veil on. “I don’t know who Kevin is, I'm sorry” Lacy said the first thing that came to her mind, instantly regretting it. The girl opened her mouth at an angle that rivaled pythons. A ghastly wail rang out of her mouth, ringing Lacys ears. Without hesitation Lacy plunged the knife into the girl's neck. Pulling it out the wailing did not cease. It didn't affect her. Lacy turned to run, almost tripping over the body of the man. As Lacy was running the girl was on all fours crawling towards her at a faster pace than any normal person could crawl. She looked like an animal. Lacy noticed that the girl was no longer screaming, but was crying. The tears were blood red and she looked sympathetic to Lacy. Running past the trees Lacy looked for an answer to the problem that was crawling behind her. Trying to listen over the sound of her own breathing and the crying of the girl behind her, she heard the sound of a river flowing in the distance. Running towards the sound of the river, Lacy tripped over a log tumbling to the ground. Almost in an instant the girl climbed on top of her. Her eyes met Lacy as her mouth opened in the same disgusting manner that it had before and just as her mouth opened the same way as it had before, the same sound erupted as well. Lacy felt her blood boil at the sound, feeling her life leaving her body. In a final attempt to free herself she freed her hand and stuck the knife directly into the girl's mouth. The girl’s scream stopped and turned into a painful yelp rather than an angry roar. Lacy used the moment to kick the girl off of her and got up to run. As she began to run the girl grabbed her leg, piercing her skin with her nails. Lacy pushed through and kept running. As Lacy was running she turned her head around to see the girl just sitting there, crying. Lacy got a fair distance away and began walking to regain strength. Finally making it to the river, she stopped to drink. Lacy made a sudden realization. She wasn't thirsty. After everything she had been through she was not thirsty at all. Not only was she not thirsty, but she was not hungry either. “I have to come up with a plan”. Lacy understood the rules of this strange place. Something has to die in order for one of those holes to appear. “But I saw that guy's body, why wasn’t there a hole there? No, these beings, Larson, The Smiling Man, This girl, they don’t get to leave. That’s why Crawford said you know what you have to do. The holes appear when the beings in these places die. The girl has to die for a hole to appear.” Lacy was talking outloud, it made her feel less alone. As Lacy was washing the blood off of her she looked into the river. She could see the moon in the reflection as well as her face. Looking into her eyes she noticed a drop hit the river. Looking at the other side of the river. She saw the girl crouching down, looking directly at Lacy with her blood red eyes.
Chapter 9
The river wasn’t wide. It would take the girl less than 5 seconds to cross. Lacy had to think fast. Her mind was racing as the girl just sat there and watched her. An idea popped into her head. The watchtower. Almost supernaturally, as Lacy had the idea the girl lounged towards her. Lacy dodged out of the way and broke into a sprint hearing the girl crying and crawling after her. After what felt like hours of running and having this thing chase after her, she made it to the tower. The girl was crawling after her, looking like an alligator chasing its prey. Stepping onto the steps Lacy felt her legs start to give up. She pushed on, her muscles burning. Turning her head she saw the girl crawling up the stairs. Lacy’s heart was racing as her body needed to rest or it would shut down. “Where is Kevin?” The girl screamed for the first time since she had begun chasing Lacy. Lacy could feel her body giving up and just as she passed the broken step, her legs collapsed. Lacy layed on the steps as the girl crawled up the steps towards her. The girl was crawling slower now that she had seen Lacy was on the ground. Lacy continued backing up on the stairs. Just as the girl was about to lounge at Lacy she put her hand on the broken step. Seeing this Lacy kicked the broken step causing it to break. The girl lost her footing and Lacy pushed her off of the balcony. The girl fell from the immense height of the tower. Lacy took the moment to just lay on the steps. Hours passed as Lacy rested. She mustered up enough strength to go down the stairs. At the bottom of the tower she found the body of the girl. She looked as if all of her bones were broken. Her eyes were open and Lacy could see the blood pooling in them. Lacy became nauseous at the sight of her body. Looking to the left she saw a hole. A hole that was all too familiar with her. Lacy collected her thoughts. “This has to end” Stepping through the hole, only one thing was in her mind. This has to end.
Chapter 10
Lacy woke up to the sound of snow falling. The room that she was in was warm. A fire was crackling in the corner of the room. Looking out of the window of the house she saw a massive snow storm that affected her vision to see past the tree line. Lacy examined her surroundings and saw a normal looking room. In the middle was a couch. Just looking at the couch made Lacy tired. Walking around the cabin she noticed the room looked untouched, unlike every other place she had been in. Sitting down on the couch Lacy's eyes became heavy as she began to fall asleep. Just as she was about to pass out a loud bugle of an elk erupted. Lacy ran to the window to see where it was. As she looked outside it seemed as if the storm had stopped for just a second. As the snow ceased, an elk poked through the tree line. Its eyes were looking directly at Lacy. Just as fast as it disappeared, the snow storm erupted. “You’re a failure Lacy.” A voice swept through the cabin. It sounded familiar. “You killed her you know” Lacy placed the voice. It was her father. Lacy’s mind was racing. How did he get here? Why was he saying this? Where was he? And her last thought, Was this really him? The elk bugle rang throughout the cabin again. “I pitied you” The voice was Collin. Lacy searched the windows of the house trying to find the origin of the voices she was hearing. “Everyone hates you” Lacy stepped towards the door reaching for the handle. A sudden and intense fear brushed over her. Lacy felt that if she opened that door, whatever was telling her these things would take her life. Stepping away from the door she heard the Elk bugle again. “Why did you leave me Lacy?” The voice was her father again. This time it sounded as if he was crying. “I told you I needed you and you left. After everything I sacrificed for you, after all of the times I had to go to that school to bail you out. This is how you repay me.” Lacy could feel her emotions boiling inside of her. Everything that was being said was true in a sense so Lacy was letting it affect her more than anything else ever had. She could feel tears running down her face. “I'm trying to get back to you dad, I just don't know how.” Lacy looked towards the window and saw the Elk. It had gotten closer to the cabin. The snow had calmed down. The Elk opened its mouth and spoke in the voice of her father. “You won’t make it out of this place alive Lacy”.
Chapter 11
Looking into the eyes of the Elk, Lacy’s blood ran cold. Her mind was racing. Animals can’t talk but yet this Elk just looked her in the eyes and spoke in the voice of her father as well as other people she knew. The snow had ceased tremendously compared to when she had first appeared in the cabin. Lacy worked up the courage to ask the Elk a question. “What do you want from me?” The Elk did not reply, instead it turned to the tree line and left. Remembering the rules of this place, Lacy understood that the Elk had to die. The question was how she was going to accomplish that. Lacy gathered enough courage to open the door to examine her surroundings. Outside of the cabin was a blanket of blinding snow. The sun was high in the sky blinding Lacy. Before Lacy went back inside she noticed a wooden stump sticking out of the snow. Sticking out of the stump was an axe. Lacy slammed the door shut and closed the latch. Lacy knew that the dull kitchen knife she had wouldn’t be able to handle an elk, but an axe would. Lacy began to plan a way to get to the Elk. She took notice of certain aspects that the Elk had. Every time it made the bugle noise, it would change voices. The closer it got, the more the snowstorm would calm. Lacy had to play its game until it got close enough to the axe so that she could reach the axe before it could reach her. The elk bugle sounded again. “You really think that anyone thought you could accomplish anything.”. It was her teacher. Lacy peered out of the window. The snow had ceased ever so slightly. Lacy could see the silhouette of the elk near the same spot it was in before. “What do you think, we cared about you? We pitied you and your pitiful existence.” Lacy began to brush off the sentences coming from the elk's mouth. Lacy was contemplating if the axe play was the way to move further. The bugle went off again. “Lacy” the voice was the smiling man. The smiling man was a recent memory to Lacy. This elk had to know who she was to be able to know who he was. Lacy looked out of the window. The elk was watching her. This time Lacy saw it make the awful sound she had continued to hear. Instead of a voice she had heard. It was a voice that was unfamiliar to her. “Why fight it child. Why fight what you truly are. Why fight human nature? Why fight reality? Do you truly think you can escape? Do you truly believe that you will see your father again? Do you believe that you have people to rely on in this place? Do you truly believe that God is with you here? You have no chance. Smite me down if you must. HOPE SHOULD BE ABANDONED IN THIS PLACE” Lacy brushed off every word that was said. Rushing to the door she threw it open. Running through the snow. She reached the axe. It was a standard fire axe with a yellow handle and black blade. It wasn't heavy to her, it had to be adrenaline. Rushing towards the elk it did not fight back. She plunged the axe head into the elk's skull. Blood rushed out of the wound, covering Lacy. The elk fell to the floor with a booming thud. As Lacy stared at the body of the animal lying in the snow, a hole appeared behind her. Lacy had to believe that there was an end to this. She stepped through the hole. With a new found axe.

FEDS: CAPE COD HOSPITAL TO PAY $24.3 MILLION TO RESOLVE ALLEGATIONS THAT IT FAILED TO COMPLY WITH MEDICARE CARDIAC PROCEDURE RULES
BOSTON – [DOJ MEDIA STATEMENT] - Cape Cod Hospital has agreed to pay $24.3 million to resolve allegations that it knowingly submitted claims to Medicare for transcatheter aortic valve replacement (TAVR) procedures that failed to comply with Medicare rules specifying the way in which hospitals were required to evaluate patient suitability for the procedures.
Beginning in 2015, Cape Cod Hospital began offering TAVR procedures for patients suffering from aortic stenosis, a serious heart condition that restricts blood flow from the heart to the rest of the body. A TAVR procedure involves replacing a patient’s damaged heart valve with an artificial one. Medicare rules at the time required that, prior to performing a TAVR procedure, hospitals engage specified clinical personnel to conduct an independent examination of prospective patients to evaluate their suitability for TAVR; document the rationale for their clinical judgment; and make the rationale available to the medical team performing the TAVR procedure.
The settlement resolves allegations that from November 2015 through December 2022, Cape Cod Hospital knowingly submitted hundreds of claims to Medicare for TAVR procedures that did not comply with the applicable Medicare requirements. In some instances, not enough physicians examined a patient’s suitability for the procedure, while in other instances the physicians failed to document and share their clinical judgment with the medical team responsible for the TAVR procedure.
“Medicare permitted coverage for this newly developed cardiac procedure only under certain conditions, to ensure patient safety. Cape Cod Hospital ignored those rules and received millions of dollars from Medicare to which it was not entitled. This conduct persisted for years despite internal warnings,” said Acting United States Attorney Joshua S. Levy for the District of Massachusetts. “This investigation and settlement ensure that patient safety is prioritized over a hospital’s bottom line.”
“Hospitals that participate in the Medicare program must abide by applicable coverage and reimbursement rules,” said Principal Deputy Assistant Attorney General Brian M. Boynton, head of the Justice Department’s Civil Division. “The department will hold healthcare providers accountable when they knowingly fail to comply with Medicare reimbursement requirements.”
“Health care providers are expected to follow Medicare rules and bill properly,” said Roberto Coviello, Special Agent in Charge with the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, Office of Inspector General. “We are committed to pursuing allegations of False Claims Act violations as we work to protect the integrity of the taxpayer-funded Medicare program, and we encourage the public to come forward with information about such conduct.”
In connection with the settlement, Cape Cod Hospital has entered into a five-year Corporate Integrity Agreement with the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, Office of Inspector General (HHS-OIG), which provides for an annual review of its paid Medicare claims by an Independent Review Organization.
Cape Cod Hospital received credit under the Department’s guidelines for taking disclosure, cooperation, and remediation into account in False Claims Act cases. Among other actions, Cape Cod Hospital voluntarily produced materials, identified the relevant medical records, admitted that it failed to adhere to the applicable Medicare requirements and implemented appropriate remedial measures.
The claims resolved by the resolution announced today include claims that were brought under the qui tam or whistleblower provisions of the False Claims Act. Under the Act, a private party can file an action on behalf of the United States and receive a portion of any recovery. As part of today’s resolution, the whistleblower will receive approximately $4.36 million.
The investigation and resolution of this matter illustrates the government’s emphasis on combating health care fraud. One of the most powerful tools in this effort is the False Claims Act. Tips and complaints from all sources about potential fraud, waste, abuse, and mismanagement, can be reported to HHS at 800-HHS-TIPS (800-447-8477).
Acting U.S. Attorney Levy; Principal Deputy AAG Boynton; and HHS-OIG SAC Coviello made the announcement today. Assistant U.S. Attorney Andrew A. Caffrey, III of the Affirmative Civil Enforcement Unit handled the matter along with Trial Attorney Kimya Saied of the Department of Justice’s Fraud Section.

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
Deep in the groaning halls of sinew and bone he awaited his audience with the god. At a wave of his hand the ribs which held up the ceiling contracted, tendons shifting within the pink walls of the chamber as the jagged, calcareous spurs that composed the doorway sank back into the spongy masses of tissue, revealing a passage curving down and out of sight.
Menash stood before the yawning portal and considered eternity. This was no an idle thought: here in the Dawning Chamber, the concept was very real. His father, Yulan, had stood in this exact spot times beyond count. When he was struck down in his prime by the Night Weaver and her Leaper offspring, torn limb from limb as he fought to defend Chthonis from a raiding party, Menash’s uncle, Aqavarr, had carried his broken remains over that grinning threshold to join the hosts of the dead, never to return.
A hot and heavy exhalation rattled up out of the depths, wafting in the acrid scent of the bonding pools and the wet slithering sound of the rebirthing canals. Menash felt a crackle of static in the corners of his mind before the signal sharpened and he heard It whisper distinctly:
“Enter…”
The familiar dread crept its way up the small of his back, and he gave a little shiver. No matter how many times he had communed with the Vitalus, he’d never been able to shake the feeling of his utter insignificance. But he persevered, walking bravely down the slurping passage, past the rows of broad antechambers lining either side of the hallway. Each one held a slumbering shape immersed in a cryogenic bath, towering hulks of muscle encased in ribbed and riveted plates of chitin. No two were alike in size or physiology, but all seemed to emanate the same primeval aura of dread that tickled Menash’s fight-or-flight-instinct, skewing it very much towards the latter response. These were the Hollowores, soulless avatars of the Vitalus, each one a tool capable of eradicating an entire species. As Menash approached, one of the living weapons stirred to life. A pronged, anvil-shaped head emerged from the bath, umbilical feeder tubes detaching from its armored flanks as the rest of its bulk followed, its mauve exoskeleton as sleek and shiny as amethyst. The Hollowore extended legs as thick as grown pine trees and lifted itself above him, its pairs of crushing pincers dripping amniotic fluids as it herded him towards the central room.
Bundles of white gossamer filaments spread all across the floor, encircling steaming pools of pus and acid. He saw arms and legs, sensory organs and entire exoskeletons being knitted before his very eyes, the amino acid chains being stitched on a layer at a time, the weeping pus evidence of microphages fighting off possible infections as the Vitalus did Its work.
These were the next generation of exomorphs, yet to be assigned to their hosts. It was here that Vitalus constantly improved the only thing that could ensure the continued survival of Menash’s subspecies. Exomorphs were bonded to Gallivants at birth, the organisms supplying their hosts with the means to breathe an atmosphere they was never meant to endure, and the strength to fight in a world that was red in tooth and claw. They were as swift as the summer wind and could multiply their host’s muscular power by up to twelve times their natural output.
But for all their God-given might, Gallivants were still mortal. They could and often did perish in the endless struggle for existence that the Vitalus called the Great Game. But even in death they could still commit their essence to posterity, passing down their defining traits through the malleable genetic code of the gilt helix. It was the Vitalus’ greatest boon; through the gilt helix a single individual could become a progenitor of an entire generation, becoming at one stroke the father of whole nations and peoples.
One day he too would prove worthy of the honor that Yulan had earned with his life. But he was not alone in that ambition. Menash was annoyed to find the crimson-clad Vezda and the cowardly Racek waiting for him inside, standing next to a large ball of filaments that hung from a tonsil-like growth hanging from the walls.
This node pulsed, emitting a small storm of bioelectric activity, networks of fungi conveying commands in the form of oscillating voltages to their communities of symbiotic bacteria, the latter containing greigite mineral crystals aligned in the shape of electromagnetic coils. Other networks hidden in the walls modulated and amplified the signals, and the three Gallivants steeled themselves for the onrushing flood of information as the Vitalus tapped into their minds.
He was a candle before the raging heart of the thunderstorm. For an instant Menash touched a fraction of Its intelligence, the divisions of time and space rolling back as they joined the ocean of shared consciousness, becoming one with the living systems of Arachnea. From the tiniest aeroplankton floating above the waves of the golden coastlines, to the herds of ultrapods munching their way through swathes of trees in the savannahs. Menash felt himself pushing up out of the soil, longing and lusting and reaching for the sunlight with a trillion green fingers uncurling, alive with the furious movement of life.
But what was that flicker of orange to the east? That searing heat, that prickling pain spreading like a cancer down his side?
The Vitalus scooped them up and hurled them headlong into hell itself. A roaring wildfire was sweeping into the heart of the eastern rainforests. Menash tasted ash and ruin, felt pieces of himself wither and burn, his branches tongues of fire, wood cracking from the intense blaze, sap boiling instantaneously upon contact and rupturing, splitting him right down the grain. He fled in terror, running, slithering, digging, swimming, flying away in crazed panic from the walls of red death closing in on him. As his skin flaked off in clumps of charcoal he looked back and saw it towering over the treetops, the epicenter of this howling vortex of destruction: the grey behemoth. Its burnished metal hide gleamed like copper, reflecting the fury of the conflagration burning well into the night.
Menash pulled his mind away before it was lost forever in the storm of electric potentials. He saw Racek and Vezda swaying on their feet, breathing hard and fast.
“Heart of the World,” he managed to gasp, “What is your bidding?”
The Hollowore maneuvered itself until it was facing him directly. Tiny beady eyes fixed him in their blank gaze. The node emitted a blue pulse and the creature shuddered as it received the signal. It opened a maw powerful enough to chew boulders into gravel and rumbled:
“This one is the alpha which survived first contact with anomalous variable. It will tell Us what occurred, and from whence this threat emerged.”
“It came from the karst mountain range, where the yellowjacket Amit live,” Menash replied, “It was destroying the largest mound in that area, massacring its inhabitants. It brought the mountain down on them—we’ve never seen anything like it. Zildiz was the first on the scene. She warned us not to approach, and that it was dangerous, but some of us,” here he cast an angry look at Vezda, “Some of us went ahead and tried to scavenge from the bodies of the dying. Then the behemoth ignited the air and burned scores of us to cinders.”
“Irrational. Why did you do this?”
“W-we thought that you had spawned the grey behemoth,” Menash stammered, embarrassed to say the least, “That it was the newest addition to the Great Game, another species of ultrafauna that would help perfect Arachnea.”
“Not so. It was made by an evil far older than the All-In-One,” replied the Vitalus, “It is called a Divine Engine. In cycles past, this evil sought to undo this world and all that inhabit it. In that, it almost succeeded.”
Menash felt his blood run cold at those words.
“Is it the only one of its kind?” Racek piped up. Menash and Vezda both bristled at his interruption; subordinates were only supposed to speak when spoken to.
“There were several deployed here in Our infancy. We had thought them all destroyed in the War of Creation.”
“Your Munificence,” Racek went on, heedless of the venomous looks he was getting from the other two, “Most of us survived because Zildiz persuaded us to dive into the river. She saved all our lives! But as I washed up on the riverbank, I saw the behemoth casting a seedpod into the skies. I did not see where it landed, but it was travelling in a high arc due east. Is this the behemoth’s method of reproducing? If so, then how many offspring can it generate from this one seed?”
The Vitalus met his questions with a minute of silence. Menash had never known It to take so long to respond to a query, and felt another stab of unease in his gut. Unless he was imagining things, the Vitalus seemed genuinely disturbed by the scenario that Racek has raised, enough to convince Menash that the danger was far from hypothetical.
“That is a distant possibility,” It said somewhat cryptically, “Regardless, We cannot allow the Engine’s continued existence.”
“Then it must be destroyed,” Vezda said, her barbed tail eagerly perking up.
“We are not certain that it can be,” the Vitalus said, and Menash heard Racek audibly gulp at the admission.
“But Your Omniscience, you alone are the arbiter of growth and decay,” Vezda said in disbelief, “Surely you can unmake this monster as well?”
“Perhaps. The Divine Engines were built to withstand the extremes of temperature, gravity, atmospheric pressure, acidity and irradiation found on semi-inhabitable exoplanets. Worlds of bareness and desolation, glassed by thermonuclear bombardment or infested with alien microorganisms. In the wars of Our youth, the Betrayers used tungsten-alloy warheads fired from space platforms to crack their bulkheads. Not even Our vessels, the Hollowores, could damage them in any significant way. We will need time to gather the raw materials and fabricate the weapons needed to end this threat.”
“What must we do?” Menash asked.
“If this variable is not dealt with, it could upset the delicate balance We have sacrificed so much to achieve. Already the wildfire it has caused will release close to 400 million metric tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere and destroy 2.3 million acres of forest before Our countermeasures can stop it. Time is our limiting factor. If the Engine cannot be destroyed now, it must be restrained.”
“It hasn’t moved an inch since we last saw it,” Vezda said brightly, “Maybe it has already died?”
“Yes, and maybe your mother was a horka toad,” Racek said snidely. Vezda scowled and took a step towards him, then stopped as she remembered that she trod on hallowed ground.
“Not so. It has merely gone dormant. Having expended its fuel, it is now running on the bare minimum of its reserves. My children, you must ensure that it does not wake again. Establish a quarantine zone around the Engine and let none approach, on pain of death. The Leaper kindreds will secure the ground while the Gallivants patrol the skies.”
Vezda and Menash exchanged troubled looks. Nobody wanted Leapers establishing a foothold in what was essentially a buffer zone between their subspecies. Once allowed to settle in a habitat, it would not take long for them to adapt and become masters of their new territory. Ousting them would become a battle of attrition, and given the lower birthrates of Gallivants, it was not one they could long afford.
“Respectfully, we do not require assistance from our brother kindred,” Menash ventured, “We are more than capable of safeguarding the area ourselves.”
The node throbbed again, the bioelectric flashes taking on an angry purple hue. With a sound like the grinding of a millstone the Hollowore clashed its claws together impatiently. All three of the mortals took a hasty step back.
“The alpha will obey, or another will be found that can,” the Vitalus growled at them, “All subspecies will observe a general truce during this period. This is a temporary addition to the Great Game. Those that serve Us well shall be rewarded. We shall also enlist the aid of your terrestrial cousins, as well as the Cataphract clans to replenish the soil, and lone Saints who shall rove beyond the quarantine zone.”
Menash’s unease deepened. The Vitalus was bringing together four different kindreds, some of which killed each other on sight, in a move that reeked of desperation. The kindreds had worked together before, of course, on complex projects such as altering rainfall patterns and husbanding struggling species, but never so many at once. This was bound to end in bloodshed.
“Those that break the truce shall be chemically neutered, and their gilt helix purged from the existing gene pool,” the Vitalus continued, “You will maintain this quarantine until We have dealt with the Engine.”
“It is understood!” Menash and Vezda said at once.
“But what about Zildiz?” Racek blurted out, again risking his entire lineage by speaking out of turn, “She might still be alive out there!”
“He’s right,” Menash found himself agreeing despite his dislike for Racek, “She’s our alpha, after all. It would be a shame to lose her helix. Do we have your leave to send out a party to recover her?”
The Vitalus pondered the request for a moment, then crushed his hopes when it said:
“Regrettable, the loss of the female. Valuable stock for the breeding program. But it has not responded to Our signals—it is unlikely to have survived. The female Vezda shall take up its duties as alpha.”
“But Your Benevolence—” both men cried out in unison.
“It is decided. She has risked the Great Game, and must abide by its outcome. To speak more on this would risk Our displeasure,” the god warned.
“We can’t spare the manpower anyway,” Vezda pointed out, trying not to look too pleased at Its decision. She darted a quick look at Menash, long enough for him to see the selfish desire festering in her heart. He turned away from her in disgust, baring his blades by the slightest of margins to let her know what he thought of her, then asked the Vitalus:
“But what of the Engine’s seedpod? Should we search for it?”
“Negative!” the Vitalus boomed, its node reinforcing the word with a spike of activity that sent needles of pain spearing into their heads, “We shall complete this task. It is dangerous and can be entrusted to no other.”
The Hollowore angled its massive head towards the cavernous ceiling, armored flaps on its back sliding aside as it unfurled sets of rigid sixty-meter wings. A wide sphincter on the roof gaped open and Menash saw the evening sky awash with the stars in their milky multitudes. The Hollowore took a deep breath through the spiracles lining its thorax and abdomen, pumping air through a pair of hollow tube-like protuberances under either of its wings. Menash and the others quickly scampered to a safe distance. Seconds later there was a scream of chemical combustion and the Hollowore rose into the evening skies, leaving behind a long trail of superheated gases, the backwash almost knocking Menash off his feet. They watched as the Hollowore gained altitude, making straight for the columns of billowing smoke on the horizon, a sweeping shadow blotting out the light of the heavens.
The Vitalus’ mental presence receded with it. When it did not return, they took it to mean that they were dismissed and likewise took flight and headed for Chthonis. They were hardly out of the Dawning Chamber when Vezda seized the scrawny Racek by his wings and anchored her feet right up against his back.
“Funny little man, are you? Crack jokes at my expense again, and I’ll see to it that you’ll never fly again!” she snarled, yanking hard. Racek yelled as his wings threatened to pop out of their sockets.
“Stop!” Menash said, ramming his shoulder into her and knocking the smaller male out of her grip. Vezda rounded on him, blades out and her tail aquiver with rage.
“As for you! No one should speak to the Vitalus like that!” she shrieked, “Much less gainsay It! Are you trying to get us all killed? It is the source and continuance of life itself—”
“But the Vitalus doesn’t always consider the individual scale of things,” Menash reasoned, controlling his rising anger as he tried to defuse the situation, “Its scope of thought is beyond ours. Therefore it is up to us to look after each other. None of us can win the Great Game alone. We need people like Zildiz for the species to prosper.”
“Your logic is flawed,” Vezda spat, “Empathy is a sham devised by the selfish action of the gene, which seeks only to preserve itself. At least I am honest enough to look after my own interests. Your obsession with that whore is misplaced. Heed my words, Menash. What happened today marks a change in the Great Game. Only the ruthless will reap the rewards of this era. Think on that, and act accordingly.”
The female darted off in another direction, leaving the two behind.
“Thanks,” Racek said, rubbing at his sore shoulders, “My, my. She’s really taking her promotion very seriously, isn’t she?”
“This doesn’t make us friends,” Menash said shortly, “We share a common interest, that’s all.”
The two flew together in silence for a time, the dark canopy unrolling below their feet. Racek had always been a bitter rival for Zildiz’s affections. In the mating seasons he and Menash had flown the damsel-dance against each other countless times, racing and dogfighting at top speed through the dense bamboo thickets in an effort to impress her.
But each time she had always chosen Menash. Naturally. He was the stronger, the braver, the son of the Scourge who had slain hundreds on his lightning raids into Leaper territory. Their pairings had been brief and passionate, yet she had always laughed at the end and gone on her merry way, a rose petal borne on a scented breeze, the dalliance as meaningless to her as other concerns like eating or breathing.
But not to him. Right now, all that mattered was her. And Racek was the only one in the whole wide world who knew exactly how he felt. Did that mean he could be trusted? Menash considered the enormity of what he was about to do, and wavered. Then he saw her face in the darkness of his home, the face she wore when they were all alone together, and he took a deep breath before breaking the silence, saying:
“I’ll be in charge of the quarantine. I can arrange for you to disappear for a few days. I can have one of the younglings mimic your magnetosynaptic signal, make it seem like you’re with the rest of us.”
“You’d do that? For me?” Racek said in astonishment.
“Hah. Not for you,” Menash laughed softly. He looked Racek straight in the eyes and continued: “What’ll it be, then?”
If he so much as hesitates, I’ll have to kill him here and now, Menash told himself.
“Why, yes. Yes, of course!” the little brown male said vigorously.
“Good,” Menash sighed with relief, “She’ll be very grateful to whoever brings her home. I’d do it myself, but as an alpha I can’t risk being seen as disobedient.”
“Then why give me this chance? After all that’s passed between us?”
“I should have thought that was obvious,” Menash replied. Racek digested that for a bit, then out of nowhere said:
“If I find her—when I find her—I’ll tell her exactly who it was that sent me.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Bah! Just so we’re even, that’s all,” Racek grinned, his mouthparts slanting askew.
“Thanks, I guess. I’d…I’d appreciate that. You do understand what we’re risking here, right?”
“Sure. We’ll be total genetic write-offs if we’re caught. But it’s not like I wanted to see tiny ugly Raceks running around the house anyway. What about you, though? Why are you putting your neck on the chopping block?”
“You know why,” Menash said quietly, his thoughts still lingering on her face.
“Yes,” Racek agreed with a wistful air, “Yes, I suppose I do.”
And the pair spoke no more until they reached Chthonis.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

I was reading some texts by Foyan when he mentioned Seng-ts'an and his writings. I decided to share and comment on the whole poem which is called Hsin Hsin Ming. The poem is huge, so buckle up!
On having no preferences.

The Perfect Way is only difficult for those who pick and choose; Do not like, do not dislike; all will then be clear. Make a hairbreadth difference, and Heaven and Earth are set apart; If you want the truth to stand clear before you, never be for or against. The struggle between "for" and "against" is the mind's worst disease; While the deep meaning is misunderstood, it is useless to meditate on Rest. It [the Buddha-nature] is blank and featureless as space; it has no "too little" or "too much;" Only because we take and reject does it seem to us not to be so.

If you support and objectify something outside yourself, that is already a preference. And then you will reject any view that denies your view of truth. However if you do not have such an object to look towards, what will you do? What would it look like not to fight against another view?
On taking things as they are.

Do not chase after Entanglements as though they were real things, Do not try to drive pain away by pretending that it is not real; Pain, if you seek serenity in Oneness, will vanish of its own accord. Stop all movement in order to get rest, and rest will itself be restless; Linger over either extreme, and Oneness is for ever lost. Those who cannot attain to Oneness in either case will fail: To banish Reality is to sink deeper into the Real; Allegiance to the Void implies denial of its voidness.

There is no use to clean your glasses with your own fingers, it will only smudge them more. By trying to fabricate states or change your current state hoping to have a nicer experience, you will only get further estranged from yourself. By reacting to emotions, you will create even more emotions. Why force rest or peace? Why prefer something more real? How can something other than this experience be more real?
On intellectualization.

The more you talk about It, the more you think about It, the further from It you go; Stop talking, stop thinking, and there is nothing you will not understand. Return to the Root and you will find the Meaning; Pursue the Light, and you will lose its source, Look inward, and in a flash you will conquer the Apparent and the Void. For the whirligigs of Apparent and Void all come from mistaken views;

This reminds of the monk who got to go on a walk with his master and they watched the sunset together. At one point the monk could not help himself and said "How beautiful!". His master never allowed him to go on a walk with him. Of course, this is an extreme case, but by expressing / looking for the beauty in words, it is no longer the same beauty. It is, as if, examined by one and no longer of-itself.
On duality of "Is" and "Isn't".

There is no need to seek Truth; only stop having views. Do not accept either position [Assertion and Negation], examine it or pursue it; At the least thought of "Is" and "Isn't" there is chaos and the Mind is lost. Though the two exist because of the One, do not cling to the One; Only when no thought arises are the Dharmas without blame. No blame, no Dharmas; no arising, not thought.

From the One Mind are born "this" or "that". It can flower in any direction, but don't consider it your own and see it as an arbitrary view.
On me and you.

The doer vanishes along with the deed, The deed disappears when the doer is annihilated. The deed has no function apart from the doer; The doer has no function apart from the deed. The ultimate Truth about both Extremes is that they are One Void. In that One Void the two are not distinguished; Each contains complete within itself the Ten Thousand Forms.

One void, not two, not me, not you. So tell me, who knows more than others? Who has views that others don't see? Who argues with another?
On having no fixed path.

Only if we boggle over fine and coarse are we tempted to take sides. In its essence the Great Way is all embracing; It is as wrong to call it easy as to call it hard. Partial views are irresolute and insecure, Now at a gallop, now lagging in the rear. Clinging to this or to that beyond measure The heart trusts to bypaths that lead it astray. Let things take their own course; know that the Essence will neither go nor stay; Let your nature blend with the Way and wander in it free from care.

Only a fool would try to put a nail in the sky. What is subtle and what is surface understanding? There is a point where they no longer mean anything separately. What then? When things are seen for what they are, as appearances in the One Mind, all boundaries begin to crumble. In nature some branches grow short, some long, all is the body of Buddha.
On splitting the hair in half.

Thoughts that are fettered turn from Truth, Sink into the unwise habit of "not liking." "Not liking" brings weariness of spirit; estrangements serve no purpose. If you want to follow the doctrine of the One, do not rage against the World of the Senses. Only by accepting the World of the Senses can you share in the True Perception. Those who know most, do least; folly ties its own bonds. In the Dharma there are no separate dharmas, only the foolish cleave To their own preferences and attachments.

Don't sit in your meditation or emptiness and reject everything. Don't sit with your Zen texts and reject what is not in your Zen texts. There is One Dharma and it manifests as all. Estrange yourself from your perceptions and senses and you will estrange yourself from the One Dharma.
On no differentiation.

To use Thought to devise thoughts, what more misguided than this? Ignorance creates Rest and Unrest; Wisdom neither loves nor hates. All that belongs to the Two Extremes is inference falsely drawn- A dream-phantom, a flower in the air. Why strive to grasp it in the hand? "Is" and "Isn't," gain and loss banish once for all: If the eyes do not close in sleep there can be no evil dreams; If the mind makes no distinctions all Dharmas become one.

I see this as river, it does not look for the best course, it just flows into the best course. It does not blame rocks for being in the way, it just goes over them. What do you blame? What is it that you want to accomplish and what is it that stands in your way?
On the end of complication.

Let the One with its mystery blot out all memory of complications. Let the thought of the Dharmas as All-One bring you to the So-in-itself. Thus their origin is forgotten and nothing is left to make us pit one against the other. Regard motion as though it were stationary, and what becomes of motion? Treat the stationary as though it moved, and that disposes of the stationary. Both these having thus been disposed of, what becomes of the One?

When you wake up from a dream in the morning, it instantly becomes unreal. In the same way, when all subjective complications are forgotten once and for all, the only flow of existence is revealed to have never ceased. Eternally This, ever flowing.
On freedom.

At the ultimate point, beyond which you can go no further, You get to where there are no rules, no standards, To where thought can accept Impartiality, To where effect of action ceases, Doubt is washed away, belief has no obstacle. Nothing is left over, nothing remembered; Space is bright, but self-illumined; no power of mind is exerted. Nor indeed could mere thought bring us to such a place. Nor could sense or feeling comprehend it. It is the Truly-so, the Transcendent Sphere, where there is neither He nor I.
For swift converse with this sphere use the concept "Not Two;" In the "Not Two" are no separate things, yet all things are included. The wise throughout the Ten Quarters have had access to this Primal Truth; For it is not a thing with extension in Time or Space; A moment and an aeon for it are one. Whether we see it for fail to see it, it is manifest always and everywhere. The very small is as the very large when boundaries are forgotten; The very large is as the very small when its outlines are not seen.

Thusness is the place of non-abiding. No one does the non-abiding so we can say that it happens of itself. This is the freedom that is sought after through endless kalpas of thoughts and emotions. Who would have thought that even thoughts and emotions are of themselves, part of it.
William Blake says:

To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.

On the futility of words and trusting the Heart.

Being is an aspect of Non-being; Non-being is an aspect of Being. In climes of thought where it is not so the mind does ill to dwell. The One is none other than the All, the All none other than the One. Take your stand on this, and the rest will follow of its own accord; To trust in the Heart is the Not Two, the Not Two is to trust in the Heart. I have spoken, but in vain; for what can words tell Of things that have no yesterday, tomorrow or today?

Here we meet the paradox of being and non being, of using words to describe the word-less. What does it really mean to trust the Heart? We cannot convey that in any direct way using language. To be honest, we cannot convey much directly using language. Seeing things as not two, or not separate is to have trust in the Heart, or to put it in another way, not closing yourself off via intellectual analysis or emotional reactions is to have trust in the Heart. What is your take on all of this?