Black ghetto hood nicknames
Nightwolf and Erron Black are brothers.
2024.05.19 02:22 Chumbamancer Nightwolf and Erron Black are brothers.
 | Seperated during the later half of their child hood; the Erron and Nightwolf would later discover eatch others existence through their fighting journeys throughout the events of the ninth and tenth Mortal Kombat. submitted by Chumbamancer to MortalKombat [link] [comments] In order to avoiding having to kill one another in the next Mortal Kombat tournament, Erron Black and Night Wolf develope a plan wher they both volunteer for recruitment into the Black Dragon Clan. Under the leadership of Kabal, the duo band together as mercenaries vowing to kill for the forces of Outworld While traveling through Outworlds wastelands, the brothers steadly gain respect and fame for their exceptional bounty hunting skills. Born into the captive savagery of the West, by a saloon whore who got knocked up by an ex Native War Chief turned Sheriff; the boys would recieve a short upbringing from their saloon whore mother. After witnessing their mother being gunned down in a crossfire battle between Earth Special Forces and Outworld invaders, the two vow to undertake a revenge fueled journey that takes them to the furthest regions of the West. |
2024.05.19 02:15 Redpressed [LFA] Shadow sorceress – High Elf – Reborn – Haunted one- Jekyll and Hyde vibes
Shadow sorceress – High Elf – Reborn – Haunted one- Jekyll and Hyde vibes
Hi! New to DnD and just finished the first session of my first short campaign and if possible I would love to have a visual of my character and I would be so grateful! I’m not the best at describing visuals but ill give it a go and I hope It makes sense!
Aelin is a reborn shadow sorceress who is a high elf. I imagine her as having very light skin, long black hair that looks like smoke, so whispy tendrils of black shadowy smoke. She is 5ft 6 and wears a long black cloak that has a smokey quartz looking crystal attached above the chest and due to the happenings of session one she has healed scars from a purple worm bite who took a chomp at her side. Due to this her top is in tatters and she has made a makeshift bra/covering out of a pair skeleton hands bound round her back and over her shoulders with leather to somewhat attempt to preserve her modesty. She also has a necklace made out of dwarf teeth and dangling earings made with dwarf teeth and fish hooks. (Session one took some interesting turns that the DM was baffled by)
Aelin is possessed by a fiend, (Switches personalities between fiend and Aelin throughout) Aelins very reserved and typically hides behind her hood with her cloak wrapped tightly around her body whereas the fiend is confident and screams power. More cocky and smirking and has the cloak open and the hood down. She has two daggers and a rapier.
submitted by Redpressed to characterdrawing [link] [comments]
Hi! New to DnD and just finished the first session of my first short campaign and if possible I would love to have a visual of my character and I would be so grateful! I’m not the best at describing visuals but ill give it a go and I hope It makes sense!
Aelin is a reborn shadow sorceress who is a high elf. I imagine her as having very light skin, long black hair that looks like smoke, so whispy tendrils of black shadowy smoke. She is 5ft 6 and wears a long black cloak that has a smokey quartz looking crystal attached above the chest and due to the happenings of session one she has healed scars from a purple worm bite who took a chomp at her side. Due to this her top is in tatters and she has made a makeshift bra/covering out of a pair skeleton hands bound round her back and over her shoulders with leather to somewhat attempt to preserve her modesty. She also has a necklace made out of dwarf teeth and dangling earings made with dwarf teeth and fish hooks. (Session one took some interesting turns that the DM was baffled by)
Aelin is possessed by a fiend, (Switches personalities between fiend and Aelin throughout) Aelins very reserved and typically hides behind her hood with her cloak wrapped tightly around her body whereas the fiend is confident and screams power. More cocky and smirking and has the cloak open and the hood down. She has two daggers and a rapier.
2024.05.19 02:05 snuffaficionada tbd
"Princess, please remain close to me now, these woods are dangerous. Infested with goblins."
Anastasia, second captain of the royal guard, was an impressive woman any day of the week, large, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs. But now, in full plate armor, her helmet hiding half her face, which warm, friendly expression normally helped to ease her martial experience, and im combination with her wide hips and chest had led to her soldiers giving her the respectfull nickname "Momma bear", she looked outright terrifing.
"But surely, you three are more than a match for any goblin we might encounter?", the princesses best friend, the Lady Kyra asked with an amused puff and waved at the three guards accompaning the two highborn girls.
She was wearing a beautiful blue dress, tight on her curvy upper body, but flowy past her hips. She sat elegantly and with thr confidence of any young highborn woman who spent more time in the sidesaddle ontop her horse, than in her studies. Her long flowy dark hair in perfect curls as always, her slighty tanned skin just above what would be considered appropriate for a nobelwoman who didn't have to work the fields.
"Aye, a single goblin is not a threat, Mylady, but they tend not to come alone", the second guard Athena chimed in.
Younger and less massive than Anastasia, she was still a force to be reckoned with, with an athletic body, tight and lean, though not without a decent amount of muscle. Her bronzed skin almost matched the color of the bronze-armour her knightly order was famous for still using, even after Steel having become wildly known and wildly used, her short black hair matching the Lady Kyra.
She gestured towards the woods. "There are probably a dozen of goblins in those woods, just waiting to swarm unsuspecting, ill prepared victims. They attsck always in huge groups. Since a single goblin would barely reach to my chest and weigh less than half of me, a single one would be easily overpowered. Also, since they are sneaky by nature, the don't attack in the open, prefering to ambush they victims."
"Are... are you sure we are save to enter this forrest at all? Shouldn't we circle around it?" The princess asked, guiding her horse - maybe instinctively - closer to Anastasias. The princess` looks stood in stark contrast to her best friend. Where Kyras was curvy, the princess was petite, her hair - though as long as Kyra - was red and straight with only a very light natural curl. Also, while she wore a wide green dress matching her eye color, the dress was so flowy, she could ride a normal saddle - something her mother - the Queen - had insisted on she learned, due to the possibility of needing "to ride for real" like her mother had called it. But with her pale porcelain skin, the high cheekbones, the full red lips and those big, round eyes she was without a doubt one of the greatest beauties in the realm.
"We will be safe, my princess" the big woman calmed her down, reaching for her and putting her heavy plate-gauntlet on the young womans shoulder. "We are on our guard and heavily armed. I doubt they will pick a fight 12 on three. It would be suicide for them.“ As if to stress her words, she reached for her sword and loosened it it its scabbered, with Athena following her example.
Medea, the third member of the small group of guard, who had fallen back slightly previously to check up on a trail, caught up to the other four women. Her gorgeous face was radiating, her joy lighting up an already great day. Clearly, the woman who had been a huntress not long ago, reveled in being out in nature, and not locked in a castle of stone. In contrast to the other guards, she didn´t wear plate armour, but instead leather armour with metal scales fixed onto it. Also, she was significantly smaller than the other two women. Shooting her heavy bow had given her muscular shoulders and back, as well as toned arms, but also her legs and butt were very well trained, looking even bigger, considering the woman was barely 5 feet. Her short brown hair was only be kept together by a single leather-headband. On her saddle hang a bow and on her back a big knife.
„I have never been to these woods myself“, she explained. „But I have heared gruesome tales of more than one unfortunate woman who went into them unprepared and was ravaged and massacred by goblins. And not necessarily in that order“, she remarked, as she let her eyes wander over the trees right in front of the small group.
„Enough!“ Anastasia cut her of, as she saw the princesses face getting even paler.
Medea raised a hand in aknowledgement. While she was a very capable warrior, she was still new to the demands of appropriate behaviour around noblewomen.
The shadow of the big leaf trees fell over the five women, as they followed the path into the wood. The path itself was well maintaned, with the plentiful undergrowth of the forrest having been cut away. It was a nice, peacefull atmosphere. The big trees to both sides of the road gently swayed in a gentle breeze, their branches forming a dome-like ceiling over the path, birds chirping, and several small animals to the side of the road to be seen.
Suddenly, Kyras horse, a beautiful white stallion, started to prance, and whicker. „Keep him calm, Mylady!“ Anastasia ordered and looked around on high alert. Kyra pulled on her horses rains and struggled to stay on top of him, as he clearly tried to break out, making a jump sidewards and buckling, almost throwing her of. „I can´t! Damn, he is going crazy!“, she squealed, fear creaping in her voice just as much as pure surprise, since her well trained Hose normally never acted that way. Than, the stallion reared, and jumped, loudhly neighing forward and ran along the path, before he took a small gap between trees and dissapeared into the undergrowth, his rider screaming curses, though clearly not less scared than angry.
„Gods be damned. Medea! After her!“, Anastasia commanded and drew her sword. She reached for the princesses horse and grabbed the rains. „Stay close, your highness!“ The princess, scared, clang to her horse and didn´t even dare thinking about going anywhere.
Medea spured her horse on and galloped after the girl, whose screams they could still hear in the distance. „I am coming Mylady!“ The small woman yelled out, as the horse jumped of the road into the woods, where Kyra had dissapeared.
Athena drew her sword as well and gestured towards a small forrest clearing a bit further ahead and to the left – the opposite side to where Kyra and Medea had dissapeared to.
„We should get of the path, we are sitting ducks here!“ she shouted.
Anastasia nodded in agreement and the three galloped onto the forrest clearing.
submitted by snuffaficionada to u/snuffaficionada [link] [comments]
Anastasia, second captain of the royal guard, was an impressive woman any day of the week, large, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs. But now, in full plate armor, her helmet hiding half her face, which warm, friendly expression normally helped to ease her martial experience, and im combination with her wide hips and chest had led to her soldiers giving her the respectfull nickname "Momma bear", she looked outright terrifing.
"But surely, you three are more than a match for any goblin we might encounter?", the princesses best friend, the Lady Kyra asked with an amused puff and waved at the three guards accompaning the two highborn girls.
She was wearing a beautiful blue dress, tight on her curvy upper body, but flowy past her hips. She sat elegantly and with thr confidence of any young highborn woman who spent more time in the sidesaddle ontop her horse, than in her studies. Her long flowy dark hair in perfect curls as always, her slighty tanned skin just above what would be considered appropriate for a nobelwoman who didn't have to work the fields.
"Aye, a single goblin is not a threat, Mylady, but they tend not to come alone", the second guard Athena chimed in.
Younger and less massive than Anastasia, she was still a force to be reckoned with, with an athletic body, tight and lean, though not without a decent amount of muscle. Her bronzed skin almost matched the color of the bronze-armour her knightly order was famous for still using, even after Steel having become wildly known and wildly used, her short black hair matching the Lady Kyra.
She gestured towards the woods. "There are probably a dozen of goblins in those woods, just waiting to swarm unsuspecting, ill prepared victims. They attsck always in huge groups. Since a single goblin would barely reach to my chest and weigh less than half of me, a single one would be easily overpowered. Also, since they are sneaky by nature, the don't attack in the open, prefering to ambush they victims."
"Are... are you sure we are save to enter this forrest at all? Shouldn't we circle around it?" The princess asked, guiding her horse - maybe instinctively - closer to Anastasias. The princess` looks stood in stark contrast to her best friend. Where Kyras was curvy, the princess was petite, her hair - though as long as Kyra - was red and straight with only a very light natural curl. Also, while she wore a wide green dress matching her eye color, the dress was so flowy, she could ride a normal saddle - something her mother - the Queen - had insisted on she learned, due to the possibility of needing "to ride for real" like her mother had called it. But with her pale porcelain skin, the high cheekbones, the full red lips and those big, round eyes she was without a doubt one of the greatest beauties in the realm.
"We will be safe, my princess" the big woman calmed her down, reaching for her and putting her heavy plate-gauntlet on the young womans shoulder. "We are on our guard and heavily armed. I doubt they will pick a fight 12 on three. It would be suicide for them.“ As if to stress her words, she reached for her sword and loosened it it its scabbered, with Athena following her example.
Medea, the third member of the small group of guard, who had fallen back slightly previously to check up on a trail, caught up to the other four women. Her gorgeous face was radiating, her joy lighting up an already great day. Clearly, the woman who had been a huntress not long ago, reveled in being out in nature, and not locked in a castle of stone. In contrast to the other guards, she didn´t wear plate armour, but instead leather armour with metal scales fixed onto it. Also, she was significantly smaller than the other two women. Shooting her heavy bow had given her muscular shoulders and back, as well as toned arms, but also her legs and butt were very well trained, looking even bigger, considering the woman was barely 5 feet. Her short brown hair was only be kept together by a single leather-headband. On her saddle hang a bow and on her back a big knife.
„I have never been to these woods myself“, she explained. „But I have heared gruesome tales of more than one unfortunate woman who went into them unprepared and was ravaged and massacred by goblins. And not necessarily in that order“, she remarked, as she let her eyes wander over the trees right in front of the small group.
„Enough!“ Anastasia cut her of, as she saw the princesses face getting even paler.
Medea raised a hand in aknowledgement. While she was a very capable warrior, she was still new to the demands of appropriate behaviour around noblewomen.
The shadow of the big leaf trees fell over the five women, as they followed the path into the wood. The path itself was well maintaned, with the plentiful undergrowth of the forrest having been cut away. It was a nice, peacefull atmosphere. The big trees to both sides of the road gently swayed in a gentle breeze, their branches forming a dome-like ceiling over the path, birds chirping, and several small animals to the side of the road to be seen.
Suddenly, Kyras horse, a beautiful white stallion, started to prance, and whicker. „Keep him calm, Mylady!“ Anastasia ordered and looked around on high alert. Kyra pulled on her horses rains and struggled to stay on top of him, as he clearly tried to break out, making a jump sidewards and buckling, almost throwing her of. „I can´t! Damn, he is going crazy!“, she squealed, fear creaping in her voice just as much as pure surprise, since her well trained Hose normally never acted that way. Than, the stallion reared, and jumped, loudhly neighing forward and ran along the path, before he took a small gap between trees and dissapeared into the undergrowth, his rider screaming curses, though clearly not less scared than angry.
„Gods be damned. Medea! After her!“, Anastasia commanded and drew her sword. She reached for the princesses horse and grabbed the rains. „Stay close, your highness!“ The princess, scared, clang to her horse and didn´t even dare thinking about going anywhere.
Medea spured her horse on and galloped after the girl, whose screams they could still hear in the distance. „I am coming Mylady!“ The small woman yelled out, as the horse jumped of the road into the woods, where Kyra had dissapeared.
Athena drew her sword as well and gestured towards a small forrest clearing a bit further ahead and to the left – the opposite side to where Kyra and Medea had dissapeared to.
„We should get of the path, we are sitting ducks here!“ she shouted.
Anastasia nodded in agreement and the three galloped onto the forrest clearing.
2024.05.19 01:37 Ok-Weight-4581 I look rough it stops me going out ever
6ft
M34
Kiss-less virgin
Slim/small framed af bones for shoulders and stick arms with some pudge on abdomen
Long slim legs short torso (tho they’ve gotten thick the past year I didn’t do anything) but I still look lanky in clothes
Black hair receding high hairline
10-3 years ago I always Used to have white clear skin and looked well/healthy in the mirror but now I look bloated, dull/yellowy and fucked with bags and a pink nose*
I won’t even answer the door to the postman when 10 years ago i worked in a pub 6 days/nights a week
i smoke weed 2 a day and have 3 cigarettes in between with 20cl of scotch mixed with a can of coke a night to watch tv with and then bed at around 2am
I can’t go out, I only to go the shop over the road at night and ALWAYS have my hood up and a snood over my face partly (the shop guys let me do this thankfully)
submitted by Ok-Weight-4581 to Advice [link] [comments]
M34
Kiss-less virgin
Slim/small framed af bones for shoulders and stick arms with some pudge on abdomen
Long slim legs short torso (tho they’ve gotten thick the past year I didn’t do anything) but I still look lanky in clothes
Black hair receding high hairline
10-3 years ago I always Used to have white clear skin and looked well/healthy in the mirror but now I look bloated, dull/yellowy and fucked with bags and a pink nose*
I won’t even answer the door to the postman when 10 years ago i worked in a pub 6 days/nights a week
i smoke weed 2 a day and have 3 cigarettes in between with 20cl of scotch mixed with a can of coke a night to watch tv with and then bed at around 2am
I can’t go out, I only to go the shop over the road at night and ALWAYS have my hood up and a snood over my face partly (the shop guys let me do this thankfully)
2024.05.19 01:16 Hanco90 Devils game. Part 1
Humans were always interested in evil, hell, devil, everything that's backwards from good, by the time of history of humanity people have adapted into their religions, and they believe how many miscellaneous religions exist, however in reality, there's just 2, first one is a belief in god or good and the second one is belief in devil or evil.
By those 2 beliefs, it's extremely easy not just to manipulate with singular person, but also with whole world. It's something like a domino effect, you begin with one, and then there shall be a chain reaction that will also cause influence to others. That is something that is strongest in us humans, but that is something that is incomprehensible for us.
I was always interested in that, why do lot's of people want to form contact with devil. Why does that attract, intrigue and interest them, why are there many cults and groups that are desperately in all possible ways attempting to form a contact with an evil side, the king of most evil, the devil.
That is where my story begins, it begun from my curiosity on why do people want to form a contact with devil so much. I was a student, moreso the best one in my entire class, others considered me to be a very smart person, a person with an intelligence that is above average, but I've possessed my bad sides as well, no one is perfect. My adventure begins with my one friend that trustfully informed me how he knows someone who is a participant in a local cult or sect, curious me was slyly and carefully asking about that person and cult and successfully I've received those informations, I contacted that person and told him how I would also like to become a participant in his cult. The first thing that was told to me obviously was how becoming something like that isn't such an easy and straightforward thing, because they solely pick those who are tremendously competent to be an adequate fit for their cult, I was determined to become part of it so I accepted.
It was 13th November a hour before midnight, when I've received a message to arrive on one place in which there was nothing, I knew that road that I was traveling with in my car at that night, around me were only fields and trees. I was told that after 3 turns I should turn left and go for another about 100 meters, and then next to the biggest tree I must park and get out, and after that I must make exactly 66 steps from the left of that tree, on that place I shall receive my first test. And that is what I've done, I got out of my car and observed around but there was nothing, just a sound of a basic night, when I made 66 steps, I stumbled upon one old book that was simply just laying on the ground, the grass on that place was obviously cut just so that book was noticeable. On the peace of paper that was glued on it said how should I go back to my apartment and read the entire book exactly 3 times and how I should do everything that says in it. The name of the book was "The Devils Bible" It appeared very archaic with its thick covers and yellowish heavily congregated pages, it looked like a real replica of a 500 year old bible but with all kinds of satanic symbols drawn on its covers.
I arrived at my apartment and read the book exactly 3 times, for such thing I required 3 days, but my determination was still strong, all kinds of stuff were written on it, about the creation of devil and the techniques he uses to spew evilness on this world, how to truly summon the devil, how to truly submit a victim to evil, how to sell soul, and many other miscellaneous infos about such diabolical stuff. I've remembered almost every word and read every page. However I was very skeptical about this book because the historical misinformations were ubiquitous in this book but, what I wanted I received it.
After exactly 6 days I received another textual message with an address, the address led me to an abandoned factory that was located in the edge of the city. 10 years ago that factory burned down and no one goes there anymore, apparently it's haunted and many suicides occurred there, that is why it carries a frightening history and goes by the name "Factory of Death". When I arrived in front of the factory I saw that light in one part is on, I came into a conclusion that someone was genuinely in there, before I went into it, the doors opened, and one man came out. To my surprise, that man had a very nice and elegant suit, he asked for a card that I had on the center of my book that I received, I gave it to him, and then he told me to follow him, and then I came into that room. The thing I saw there seriously left me frightened, about 20 people with black robes and hoods that covered their heads sat in a circle that on the center had a big bowl with fire, and on top was a giant cross that was turned backwards, on the walls a lot of satanic symbols were drawn.
submitted by Hanco90 to AllureStories [link] [comments]
By those 2 beliefs, it's extremely easy not just to manipulate with singular person, but also with whole world. It's something like a domino effect, you begin with one, and then there shall be a chain reaction that will also cause influence to others. That is something that is strongest in us humans, but that is something that is incomprehensible for us.
I was always interested in that, why do lot's of people want to form contact with devil. Why does that attract, intrigue and interest them, why are there many cults and groups that are desperately in all possible ways attempting to form a contact with an evil side, the king of most evil, the devil.
That is where my story begins, it begun from my curiosity on why do people want to form a contact with devil so much. I was a student, moreso the best one in my entire class, others considered me to be a very smart person, a person with an intelligence that is above average, but I've possessed my bad sides as well, no one is perfect. My adventure begins with my one friend that trustfully informed me how he knows someone who is a participant in a local cult or sect, curious me was slyly and carefully asking about that person and cult and successfully I've received those informations, I contacted that person and told him how I would also like to become a participant in his cult. The first thing that was told to me obviously was how becoming something like that isn't such an easy and straightforward thing, because they solely pick those who are tremendously competent to be an adequate fit for their cult, I was determined to become part of it so I accepted.
It was 13th November a hour before midnight, when I've received a message to arrive on one place in which there was nothing, I knew that road that I was traveling with in my car at that night, around me were only fields and trees. I was told that after 3 turns I should turn left and go for another about 100 meters, and then next to the biggest tree I must park and get out, and after that I must make exactly 66 steps from the left of that tree, on that place I shall receive my first test. And that is what I've done, I got out of my car and observed around but there was nothing, just a sound of a basic night, when I made 66 steps, I stumbled upon one old book that was simply just laying on the ground, the grass on that place was obviously cut just so that book was noticeable. On the peace of paper that was glued on it said how should I go back to my apartment and read the entire book exactly 3 times and how I should do everything that says in it. The name of the book was "The Devils Bible" It appeared very archaic with its thick covers and yellowish heavily congregated pages, it looked like a real replica of a 500 year old bible but with all kinds of satanic symbols drawn on its covers.
I arrived at my apartment and read the book exactly 3 times, for such thing I required 3 days, but my determination was still strong, all kinds of stuff were written on it, about the creation of devil and the techniques he uses to spew evilness on this world, how to truly summon the devil, how to truly submit a victim to evil, how to sell soul, and many other miscellaneous infos about such diabolical stuff. I've remembered almost every word and read every page. However I was very skeptical about this book because the historical misinformations were ubiquitous in this book but, what I wanted I received it.
After exactly 6 days I received another textual message with an address, the address led me to an abandoned factory that was located in the edge of the city. 10 years ago that factory burned down and no one goes there anymore, apparently it's haunted and many suicides occurred there, that is why it carries a frightening history and goes by the name "Factory of Death". When I arrived in front of the factory I saw that light in one part is on, I came into a conclusion that someone was genuinely in there, before I went into it, the doors opened, and one man came out. To my surprise, that man had a very nice and elegant suit, he asked for a card that I had on the center of my book that I received, I gave it to him, and then he told me to follow him, and then I came into that room. The thing I saw there seriously left me frightened, about 20 people with black robes and hoods that covered their heads sat in a circle that on the center had a big bowl with fire, and on top was a giant cross that was turned backwards, on the walls a lot of satanic symbols were drawn.
2024.05.19 01:10 CoupleLoud4296 WTS - Supreme Accessories & Clothes MUST GO! 🙌🏼 Price Cuts
 | PayPal Only - BUNDLES ENCOURAGED & DEALS GIVEN! Comment here first - then message! submitted by CoupleLoud4296 to supremeclothing [link] [comments] https://imgur.com/a/DPJPsRQ (For more photos) ACCESSORIES•Dulton Clips 3 pack Multicolor 1 red/1 yellow/1 blue - 3x in stock - $33 each or 3 for $85•North Face RTG Vest Black ADJUSTABLE SIZE Medium - •FW23 Small Cinch Pouch Bag - White - $65 •FW24 Mini Duffle Bag - Orange $170 •SS23 Strawberries skateboard $100 •Nike Crew Socks Black - $45 each (2 avail) •Dulton Tray Powder Coated Red $40 •SS23 Gradient Box Logo Fitted New Era Orange) 7&3/4 & Black/Grey 7&1/4 - $69ea - 2 for $110 •FW23 Championships Box Logo New Era Stone/Purple/Light Grey - 7&1/2 - $80 •SS23 Thermal Pant White - L - $45 •SS24 Maison Margiela MM6 Painted Camp Hat Black - $130 •SS24 Maison Margiela MM6 Bike Lock - White - $240 •SS21 Monogram Twill Crusher & Vans Size 6.5 Men’s (MATCHING SET) $105 for both - or $55 each •SS22 Gradient Jacquard Denim Mesh Back 5-Panel Hat - $30 •Comme Des Garçons Pants - Multicolor - Large - $215 SHIRTS•SS18 Corduroy Baseball Jersey Black - M (fits big like large) - $175•Pocket tee short sleeve Red/White/Blue camo - L - •FW19 Bite Me tee Navy - M - $25 •FW15 Cut & Sew Black (Thread Lined) Mini Chest Logo Tee Black - XL - •FW20 Balloons tee Black - M - $24 •FW14 Ballerina Cut & Sew tee Burgundy - L - •FW15 Splat Tee Grey/Purple - L - $35 •FW18 18 & Stormy tee (Donald Trump’s Affair) White - L - •SS15 Gold Tooth Tee Black - L - •SS19 Barbed Wire Moto L/S Jersey - XL - •SS19 Clayton Patterson Long Sleeve Black (spooky cat) L/S - XL - $35 •FW17 Kiss Tee Blue - M - $25 •SS15 Cotton Twill Baseball Tee (triangle patch logo on back) Black - SWEATSHIRTS•FW20 Futura Logo Crewneck Blue - M -•FW20 Globe Hooded Zip Up Sweatshirt - M - •SS23 Heather Grey Knit Big Box Logo Jacquard Knit Hooded Sweatshirt - XL - •FW16 Hooded 2 Tone Top Magenta/Green - L - •FW19 Mirrored Logo Hooded Sweatshirt Royal Blue - L - •SS12 Pinstripe Text Logo Hooded L/S Red - XL - •SS14 United Half Zip Racer Pullover - Red - Medium - $90 •FW18 Speedway Half Zip Pullover - Red - Large - $95 COAT/FLEECE•Skittles Polartec Fleece Jacket Red - XL -•FW22 Nylon Filled Puffy Collared Shirt Yellow - M (fits L) - •FW20 Polartec Box Logo Fleece Sweatshirt (draw cord closure) - M - (small burn hole can be tweezed back to normal) •FW17 Hysteric Glamour N-3B Parka Fur Lined Coat - M (BIG) - •SS18 Court Half Zip Pullover / Windbreaker with hood - Pink - Large - $185 Ask questions & negotiate! More pictures: |
2024.05.19 00:54 Randon_Timberwolf What your favorite Batman villain says about you
Get your request in for part 2 right now. Because I will not do every single villain.
Joker: Wow, you're so cool and quirky and different, no one else on this planet is like you…
Harley Quinn: Hello LGBTQ community, this is not the last time we will meet!
Catwoman: Your not that picky about women, you just want them to step on your neck!
Man-Bat: You are not fighting the furry allegations. This is literally if Batman's fursona was finally given physical form.
Scarecrow: You know that stereotype of autistic boys are obsessed with trains? Well here's the trains of DC, your welcome.
Bane: God, do you guys like to be choked.
Killer Croc: “Oh I already know; this is for people with anger issues.” WRONG! Croc is for the people who's neutral state is crying.
Mad Hatter: Prison, for multiple reasons…
Poison Ivy: We reach our entry of “Please, oh please, for the love of God, keep it in yer pants”!
Deadshot: Your interpretation of this man has been permanently warped by Suicide Squad (2016)
Deathstroke: There are people who are attracted to daddy's and then there's you, people who are attracted to fathers
Twoface: Crippling gambling addiction “I don't have a problem, I can stop whenever I want!” Shut up and go to therapy
Ra's al ghul: Your friends think that you are a happy person. Your best friends know that you are a sentient sad clown painting…
Riddler: Hello LGBTQ community, you've been caught in 4K
The Penguin: Given that Batman doesn't have any elderly villains, I get that you'll take what you can get. Also yer probably gay
Kiteman: Your definitely gay
Mr. Freeze: There's 2 options: either you haven't gotten over your EX or you just like Shakespeare. There's no in between
Nora Freeze: You saw Frozen all the way back in 2014 and you have annoyed your friends by making it your personality ever since.
Victor Zsasz: For the love of God, murderers are not “cute little beans deserve the world,” THEY ARE VILE PEOPLE!!!
Baby Doll: Prison, I don't need to explain…
Baby Face: What right do you have being the first one threatening violence when you look like some sleeping hamster?!
Polka-dot Man: You just want that one villain to do something, but they always manage to disappoint you
Red Hood: I'm gonna go out on a limb and say “you do not have a good relationship with your father…
Music Meister: Your a theater kid, and I do mean that in the most insulting way possible
Black Mask: You were that one kid in middle school who constantly screamed about being in gangs, but was the first one to run away when someone checked you for it.
Clock king: In every friend group there is someone with one of these character traits: the meme lord who can't be taken to public places anymore, the STEM major who is desperate for a new family, or the gay one.
Sweet Tooth: Hello LGBTQ community, specifically the members who's sinuses have been permanently destroyed by party drugs
The ventriloquist: Your parents owned the most creepy ass dolls and you have yet to get over this Crippling fear
Hugo Strange: You put on a different character for everyone you're around and that is a problem and you need help…
Hush: You and your childhood friend had a fall out when you were teens and they definitely held a grudge. Or you're holding the grudge and in that case, seek help
Firefly: Hello LGBTQ community, specifically the ones with an obsession with pyromania and the 4th of July!
Condiment King: Hello LGBTQ community, specifically everyone with a food addiction! By the way; get help for that…
submitted by Randon_Timberwolf to batman [link] [comments]
Joker: Wow, you're so cool and quirky and different, no one else on this planet is like you…
Harley Quinn: Hello LGBTQ community, this is not the last time we will meet!
Catwoman: Your not that picky about women, you just want them to step on your neck!
Man-Bat: You are not fighting the furry allegations. This is literally if Batman's fursona was finally given physical form.
Scarecrow: You know that stereotype of autistic boys are obsessed with trains? Well here's the trains of DC, your welcome.
Bane: God, do you guys like to be choked.
Killer Croc: “Oh I already know; this is for people with anger issues.” WRONG! Croc is for the people who's neutral state is crying.
Mad Hatter: Prison, for multiple reasons…
Poison Ivy: We reach our entry of “Please, oh please, for the love of God, keep it in yer pants”!
Deadshot: Your interpretation of this man has been permanently warped by Suicide Squad (2016)
Deathstroke: There are people who are attracted to daddy's and then there's you, people who are attracted to fathers
Twoface: Crippling gambling addiction “I don't have a problem, I can stop whenever I want!” Shut up and go to therapy
Ra's al ghul: Your friends think that you are a happy person. Your best friends know that you are a sentient sad clown painting…
Riddler: Hello LGBTQ community, you've been caught in 4K
The Penguin: Given that Batman doesn't have any elderly villains, I get that you'll take what you can get. Also yer probably gay
Kiteman: Your definitely gay
Mr. Freeze: There's 2 options: either you haven't gotten over your EX or you just like Shakespeare. There's no in between
Nora Freeze: You saw Frozen all the way back in 2014 and you have annoyed your friends by making it your personality ever since.
Victor Zsasz: For the love of God, murderers are not “cute little beans deserve the world,” THEY ARE VILE PEOPLE!!!
Baby Doll: Prison, I don't need to explain…
Baby Face: What right do you have being the first one threatening violence when you look like some sleeping hamster?!
Polka-dot Man: You just want that one villain to do something, but they always manage to disappoint you
Red Hood: I'm gonna go out on a limb and say “you do not have a good relationship with your father…
Music Meister: Your a theater kid, and I do mean that in the most insulting way possible
Black Mask: You were that one kid in middle school who constantly screamed about being in gangs, but was the first one to run away when someone checked you for it.
Clock king: In every friend group there is someone with one of these character traits: the meme lord who can't be taken to public places anymore, the STEM major who is desperate for a new family, or the gay one.
Sweet Tooth: Hello LGBTQ community, specifically the members who's sinuses have been permanently destroyed by party drugs
The ventriloquist: Your parents owned the most creepy ass dolls and you have yet to get over this Crippling fear
Hugo Strange: You put on a different character for everyone you're around and that is a problem and you need help…
Hush: You and your childhood friend had a fall out when you were teens and they definitely held a grudge. Or you're holding the grudge and in that case, seek help
Firefly: Hello LGBTQ community, specifically the ones with an obsession with pyromania and the 4th of July!
Condiment King: Hello LGBTQ community, specifically everyone with a food addiction! By the way; get help for that…
2024.05.19 00:43 reauxbot Current state of my collection
The group minus a bunch of Jinhao Sharks
Focus on the vintage Pilots
From left to right:
Jinhao Shark - So cheap! This one is a hooded version with the nib ground to a stub. My other Sharks aren't as consistent as this one, but they're fun to keep around to try out nib grinding.
Nahvalur (Narwhal) Original Demonstrator - At the time, I bought this specifically for the ink capacity since all I had was the Prera with a CON 40 converter and a Safari with a Z28 converter. This one has a medium nib, and it writes pretty smooth and wet.
Majohn (Moonman) A2/A1 (Matte black, no clip)/A1 (Black, fish scale, clip) - Pilot VP clone. Unbeatable for the price, but I think I got lucky with the nibs since all 3 write consistently and smoothly. The A2 and the matte black A1 both now have the actual Pilot VP nibs. Both 18k gold, one in fine, one in medium. The matte black clicks the smoothest out of the three, and it's probably my most favorite pen overall.
Pilot Murex - Bought this one recently along with the Birdie and the Elite. Absolutely beautiful design and came in pretty good condition. Only the cap looked beat. Nib is a fine and has more feedback than I anticipated. Might need a little tweaking.
Pilot Prera - No longer in the rotation, but was the favorite back when I first got it. Not much to say other than the writing and capping were both great! It had a CM nib before I switched it for a fine from a Kakuno.
Pilot Elite - I believe this one is from the 60s because of the manifold nib. Capping on this might top the Prera? I haven't had a chance to write with this one yet since this one needed a much longer flush than the Murex. I'm very excited to see how it writes.
Pilot Birdie - A dark horse pick to be in my top 3? The medium nib is smooth and gives just a little bit of feedback. The design is cool, and the feed is clear (haven't seen this one before). The CON B converter that came with it did leak a little when I filled it up, and I didn't know until I accidentally unscrewed the body. Really wasn't all too bad since it stayed in the body.
Kaweco Sport - Big 1.5mm stub in this one. Smooth and basically no feedback. Small capacity, but I change inks so often now that it doesn't really matter any more. Length is probably the limit of how small I can go with a pen (I write with it uncapped). Always in the rotation cause of the nib!
submitted by reauxbot to fountainpens [link] [comments]
Focus on the vintage Pilots
From left to right:
Jinhao Shark - So cheap! This one is a hooded version with the nib ground to a stub. My other Sharks aren't as consistent as this one, but they're fun to keep around to try out nib grinding.
Nahvalur (Narwhal) Original Demonstrator - At the time, I bought this specifically for the ink capacity since all I had was the Prera with a CON 40 converter and a Safari with a Z28 converter. This one has a medium nib, and it writes pretty smooth and wet.
Majohn (Moonman) A2/A1 (Matte black, no clip)/A1 (Black, fish scale, clip) - Pilot VP clone. Unbeatable for the price, but I think I got lucky with the nibs since all 3 write consistently and smoothly. The A2 and the matte black A1 both now have the actual Pilot VP nibs. Both 18k gold, one in fine, one in medium. The matte black clicks the smoothest out of the three, and it's probably my most favorite pen overall.
Pilot Murex - Bought this one recently along with the Birdie and the Elite. Absolutely beautiful design and came in pretty good condition. Only the cap looked beat. Nib is a fine and has more feedback than I anticipated. Might need a little tweaking.
Pilot Prera - No longer in the rotation, but was the favorite back when I first got it. Not much to say other than the writing and capping were both great! It had a CM nib before I switched it for a fine from a Kakuno.
Pilot Elite - I believe this one is from the 60s because of the manifold nib. Capping on this might top the Prera? I haven't had a chance to write with this one yet since this one needed a much longer flush than the Murex. I'm very excited to see how it writes.
Pilot Birdie - A dark horse pick to be in my top 3? The medium nib is smooth and gives just a little bit of feedback. The design is cool, and the feed is clear (haven't seen this one before). The CON B converter that came with it did leak a little when I filled it up, and I didn't know until I accidentally unscrewed the body. Really wasn't all too bad since it stayed in the body.
Kaweco Sport - Big 1.5mm stub in this one. Smooth and basically no feedback. Small capacity, but I change inks so often now that it doesn't really matter any more. Length is probably the limit of how small I can go with a pen (I write with it uncapped). Always in the rotation cause of the nib!
2024.05.18 23:52 Vegetable_spirit128 What's your current reading setup like??
 | Mine is all about the luxury laze 🥰 submitted by Vegetable_spirit128 to RomanceBooks [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 23:38 Saturdead Samuel came from a Strange Place
Back in 2016, I was working at a roadside diner west of St. Cloud, Minnesota. Neat little place, had a bit of a 60’s vibe to it, but without the hairdo. On the slow hours of the day, or whenever we just had locals around, I’d be humming along with the chefs playing radio out of the kitchen. It wasn’t an exciting time, but it was nice to have a workplace that felt like a second home.
A couple of weekends a month, we had an all-night crew to serve passing truckers. You usually never had to do more than one shift though, and we got to make own schedules. Our boss was pretty hands-off. It was during one of those shifts, at the first week of early summer, that my life took a turn for the worse – and I didn’t even realize it.
We were used to having the occasional odd customer during those hours of the day. When this guy walked in, I didn’t know what to think. He was about 6’2, bald, and pale as chalk. He wore this worn-out t-shirt that looked like it’d been on fire. With every step, he dragged his feet, and collapsed in one of our booths, seemingly exhausted.
I looked back at the chef, and he just shrugged. Guy wasn’t hurting anyone, but he didn’t look like he was all there. But a job’s a job, so I went up to him.
“You alright there?” I asked.
He looked up at me like I was speaking a foreign language, then sunk his head back down, gently shaking it.
“Nah,” he said. “I, uh… I don’t think I am.”
He had this voice on the knife’s edge between a hysterical laugh and a howling cry. He was trembling.
“You need me to call someone?”
“Call?”
“Yeah, call someone.”
“How?”
I didn’t understand the question. I figured he was coming down from some kind of binge, and I wasn’t about to take any chances. I asked the chef to get me a side of bacon to keep the guy calm while I called the police.
As I slid the plate over to him, he sunk his face into his hands, sobbing.
“T-thank you,” he cried. “I-I’m… please…”
I sat down across from him, instinctively reaching out to grab his hand. He let me. Even at a light touch, I could feel the scars on his palm and fingertips. Whatever’d happened to him, it must’ve been awful.
“I can’t go back,” he sniffled. “Don’t make me go back. I can’t. Please, I can’t.”
“You’re not going anywhere. It’s okay,” I smiled. “You’re safe here.”
“Can you help me?” he asked. “Can you keep him out?”
“I’m sure we can figure it out,” I nodded. “Just eat up. It’s okay.”
His fingers trembled as he tentatively bit off a piece of bacon. His teeth were black, and he flinched.
“I need time,” he said. “I need time to run.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “We’ve called for help.”
“I just… I just need time.”
We just sat there for a while. He calmed his breathing but kept staring out the window. I could tell he was looking for something – or someone. All I could see was a road and a handful of moths. We sat there for some time, in silence, as he carefully nibbled on the slices of maple bacon.
As two police officers entered the diner, he got up from his seat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of scrunched-up trash. A couple of singles, a plastic card, dirt, and something resembling animal bones. He tried to straighten out the bills, pushing them into my hands along with the laminated card.
“Just… I need time. I’ll come back. Please.”
I didn’t understand. I just nodded and accepted it. Seconds later, the officers asked him to step outside and explain the situation. I got busy taking orders from a couple of passing truckers, watching glimpses of the scene through the window. A couple of minutes later, the strange man was taken away.
My shift ended at sunrise. I dragged myself to my car with a yawn, shuffling around my pockets for the keys. I hadn’t thought much about the items he’d handed me, but I took a closer look. I’d thrown away the animal bones and dirt, but there were a couple of dollar bills and that laminated card left. I checked the card first.
It looked like some kind of bookmark. On one side it was completely white, and on the other side there were dried blue flower petals arranged in a spiral. Kinda reminded me of a sunflower. And finally, there were the dollar bills.
I didn’t pay much attention to these at first. Just a couple of singles. But after a closer look, I noticed something unusual. There was a man on the bill that I didn’t recognize. It took me a couple of google searches to realize that this man was Walter Mondale – the man who’d lost to Ronald Reagan’s second run for president back in ’84. Why was this man on a one-dollar bill?
Before heading to bed, I put the items down on my nightstand. In a moment of silent wonder, I looked out the window. What had that man been looking for? What’d he been running from?
There was nothing out there.
Just a couple of moths.
Waking up the next morning, I had a full day off. I spent it cleaning my apartment, watching movies, having dinner with a couple of friends, and ending the night with a couple of drinks at the pub down on the corner. No binge or anything, just got a bit boozy. I was still gonna be in bed by midnight.
I took the scenic route home; a long walk. All the way down main street, past the lake. I took a shortcut through the park by the final stretch, speeding up a bit. That place was trouble.
As I hurried by the fountain, I spotted someone in the distance. A shrouded figure at the edge of the streetlights. I stopped to observe for a second, but as I did, the lights flickered. Coming back on, the figure was gone.
I chalked it up to imagination. I was a bit drunk, after all. Besides – it was small, like a child. What the hell would a kid be doing out at this hour?
A couple of days passed. I didn’t notice anything unusual, but I kept coming back to that distressing feeling of missing something important. Looking back at it now, I just feel dumb. He was there all along. Outside the supermarket. In the parking lot. Off the highway. Hell, he was outside my window at night sometimes, but just too short for me to spot.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
It wasn’t until one morning when I was driving to work that I got a clear view of him. I was crossing a four-way street, taking a sharp left turn, when I had to throw myself on the breaks. There was a kid in the middle of the street.
I hadn’t seen him that clearly before. He was probably around 6, maybe 7 years old. Wearing a plain black shirt and a pair of light blue canvas pants. Short black hair, dark eyes, and no shoes. That particular detail stuck with me. No shoes? Why?
I almost lost control, but I was lucky. There wasn’t much traffic, and I managed to stop further down the road. There were black lines in the pavement from my screeching tires swerving back and forth. Regaining my composure, I looked in the rear-view mirror.
The kid was gone.
But that was just the start.
I’d spot him every now and then. Looking out the window at work. At the gas station. A passing face in the crowd when shopping for groceries. Every now and then, something would pull on my attention, forcing me to whip my head around, looking for the source of that ill feeling crawling up my spine. Sometimes I saw him. And even worse – sometimes I didn’t.
I remember lying awake at night, hearing moths tap against my window. There was nothing else. Nothing outside. I patrolled my apartment six times, checking every window. I’d looked everywhere, and there was no reason for me to feel the way I did. I was growing paranoid.
And yet, in the morning, my front door was unlocked, and slightly open.
It all came to a head one afternoon when I was out on my smoke break. I’d barely slept for the past three nights, and you could kinda tell I was having a bad day. As I stood there, leaning against the side door of the diner, I see the kid again. This time just across the road, maybe 50 feet or so away. I’d had enough. This had to end.
I was furious. I stormed forward, calling him out with every slur and curse I could think of. I was psyching myself up. I was in the right, and I refused to be harassed anymore – kid or not. Didn’t matter. I crossed the road, barely dodging a speeding jeep, and met him face-to-face.
“What the hell do you want?!” I’d yell. “Why are you following me?!”
He was completely expressionless. He didn’t even flinch, no matter how much I pointed or screamed. I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, and he didn’t even blink. He just stared at me, like a porcelain doll head on a swivel.
I wasn’t thinking about the bystanders though. A couple of middle-aged men stepped up, asking in no kind terms what the hell was wrong with me. I was held back and restrained. Someone called the police. Someone else called my manager – I’d forgotten to take off my apron, so they could see the diner logo. A couple of people filmed it. One of the videos got like 120k views in a day before it fell off the map. I still see it as a react gif sometimes.
It was a disaster. After a couple of officers came by to talk to me, he’d just disappeared into thin air. The officers took me down to the station – not to detain me, but to get me away from the heated crowd. That car ride downtown sobered me up to what the hell was going on. I was being stalked by this kid, but there wasn’t a living soul out there that would believe me.
Well, maybe one.
Maybe.
I was asked a couple of questions and released within about half an hour. They told me to go home and sleep this whole thing off. That wouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t have a job to go back to anyway, according to the (many) texts I’d gotten. I had all the goddamn time in the world.
I was just about to leave when something came to mind. The two officers who’d picked me up were still waiting by their car when I turned back to them.
“Sorry, you picked up the guy I called in about at the diner, right?” I asked.
“Sure did.”
“You got any idea what happened to him?”
The two looked at one another for a moment, shrugged, and turned to me.
“Didn’t have any ID and gave a fake name. I think they took him to psych.”
“Psych?”
“Well, he was saying some, uh… strange things. There were interviews with a, uh…”
The two quieted down and flashed me a smile.
“There’s not that much we can say.”
Coming home, I decided to get to the root of this. It didn’t take me that long to find the place where the guy’d been taken; there aren’t a lot of mental health facilities in this part of the country. Especially facilities that accept involuntary subjects.
But my eyes kept drifting back to the strange dollar bills he’d given me, resting neatly on my nightstand. They were so detailed. A bit old, sure, but that only made them seem more genuine. What the hell was he doing with a handful of clearly fake dollar bills? Like, what’s the purpose? There had to be a purpose.
That unnerved me.
I managed to arrange a meeting. It wasn’t easy, and I think a lot of it boiled down to the police having no idea what could make this guy talk. For some reason, he kept providing them with false information. Maybe a familiar face, for one reason or another, might make him talk.
Just a couple of days later, I was putting my items in a metal bowl on the second floor at a mental health institute in the next town over. I asked one of the nurses if I could keep one of my dollar bills. Apparently, that was okay.
I was shuffled through a couple of locked doors and escorted to an off-white side-room. No décor, no locks. The guy was already there.
He’d been dressed down into these neutral eggshell-white garbs. It was strange seeing him in a lit-up room like this. I didn’t know what to expect.
Getting a closer look at him, he was probably in his 50’s. It’d been hard to tell earlier. I couldn’t get over just how pale he was; it was almost a complete lack of pigment. It looked sickly. His thin arms didn’t help – he looked malnourished. And yet, he was smiling.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello to you too,” I smiled. “You doing okay?”
“I’m… I’m pretty good,” he nodded. “Thank you.”
I sat down across from him and took out the dollar bill he’d given me.
“I wanted to ask you about this.”
“For the bacon,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, was that not enough?”
“No, it’s…”
I took a moment to compose myself. I had too many questions.
He sighed, took the bill, and looked it over. Looking back at me, I could tell there was something painful stirring in his mind. His smile slowly faded.
“Sorry,” he said. “I try to forget sometimes. It’s easier than making sense of it.”
“Let’s start with something simple,” I nodded. “Like… your name. Where you’re from.”
“Those things are pretty far from simple.”
He was looking straight through me; his eyes sinking back to deeper, more uncomfortable thoughts.
His name was Samuel, and he was born around these parts in back in the 1970’s. He’d worked as a telecommunications specialist out of St. Cloud back in the 90's. He had a wife, three children, and a four-bedroom house.
“But it… that was all before, see?” he explained. “Then it all just…”
“Just what?” I asked. “What happened?”
He looked at me, opening and closing his mouth, looking for the right words to come out. Nothing happened. He shook his head, trying again.
“It started with the street preachers,” he said. “Hundreds of them, marching on every city. All saying the same doomsday shit as always. World was dying. All coming to an end.”
“I haven’t seen anything like that.”
“Then there were storms,” he continued without skipping a beat. “Some would last for weeks. Others longer. Entire cities would be flooded or torn apart. Earthquakes causing monster waves along the east coast, sending shockwaves all the way to mainland Europe. Then, Yellowstone.”
“Yellowstone?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Lights out.”
Samuel was painting this apocalyptic vision of a world undone. Catastrophe after catastrophe. Hooded people marching the streets, screaming for the mercy of a mad god. But there was more to it.
“Then things stopped making sense. It’s as if the rules changed,” he continued. “Roads would stop leading home. Trees would change color. People turned twisted and corrupted. Like… one of our neighbors couldn’t eat anything but gunpowder. There was a woman just down the street who tried to kill anyone wearing glasses. It was… pandemonium.”
I didn’t say anything. What he was saying didn’t make any sense, but he was trying his best to keep his rambling coherent.
“The plants died. Trees too. The only thing that could grow in that environment were these twisted blue things that popped up out of nowhere. But people… people are what got twisted the most.”
He told me of these towering 7-foot-tall humanoid creatures that roamed the forests. Black as night – not even reflecting light. Arms reaching all the way to their knees. Elongated, inhuman things that all used to be someone he knew.
“The doomsayers all said the same thing,” he continued. “That God was a scared little boy, and that he was dying. Everything that was happening was just an expression of that ceaseless, bottomless, existential grief.”
Samuel looked back and forth, finally burying his face in his hands.
“It all broke down. Roads stopped leading anywhere. No power. No water. Julie changed. Ollie changed. Tobie made himself a mask and wandered off into the woods. Ira just… disappeared. And for… years? Has it been years? It’s just been me.”
“But you’re here, now,” I said. “And what you’re describing, it… it didn’t happen.”
“It happened,” he insisted. “Just not… here. But here.”
He tapped his finger on the single dollar bill.
“Somewhere, somehow, I must’ve taken a wrong turn. I slipped through something broken, and now I’m here. And… and he’s coming to bring me back. He doesn’t want anyone to leave.”
“Who?”
“Just! Just…” he chuckled. “Just a sad little boy who’s been told he’s going to die.”
I didn’t know what to say. I just sat with him for a while, holding his hand.
Before I left, Samuel got up from his chair. He looked at me, forcing himself to smile.
“If I go back, I’ll try not to… to be like them. I’ll try. And… and I’ll be the one to say something.”
He let out a painful little laugh, shaking his head.
“Maybe just a… hello.”
I left that day with more questions than answers. I couldn’t picture the world he’d lived through. Then again, how could it be true? None of it had happened. But what was he gaining from lying about it?
That was the last time I saw Samuel. A few days later, he went missing, as if he’d disappeared into thin air. I didn’t know what to think of it. There was nothing on the cameras – no one entering or leaving the building. No quick escapes, no clever plans. He’d just walked into his room and disappeared. Nothing left but a couple of moths fluttering about.
And for a while, that was it. That was the end of the story. I got busy looking for a new job, and all the little items given to me by Samuel was put away into a little box in my glove compartment. Life soldiered on, and no matter how many questions I had, there was no one around to answer them. Even the strange kid that’d been following me was, seemingly, gone.
A couple of months later, I was driving home from a friend’s place. I stopped at a four-way street, waiting for a couple of trucks to pass, when there was a knock on the passenger side window. I almost choked on my own spit. Scared me half to death.
Looking out, I could see that kid again. I hadn’t seen him for some time, and I quickly bounced between curiosity and downright anger.
“What do you want?” I yelled out.
There was no response. Instead, the door just opened. It’d been locked. As he opened the door, he pointed to the glove box.
“You want his things?” I asked. “Is that it?”
He nodded. I wanted to lash out, but there was something telling me I shouldn’t. Instead, I reached over, opened the glove compartment, and pointed to the box.
“Just take it and leave me alone,” I said. “Get it over with.”
He reached in and grabbed the box. So much effort for a couple of mementos. I turned my head back to face the road. The kid backed out. But of course, I had to get the last word in.
“Not even a thank you, huh?”
That made him pause. He looked at me, tilting his head. As he opened his mouth to speak, a moth fluttered out. Then another. And another.
Then – darkness.
What happened next is hard to describe. My memory of it is fragmented. It’s like trying to watch a buffering video, where long stretches of it are just nothing – but you know something was supposed to happen in-between.
Blink. I was sitting in my car. There was a dark blue sky. No clouds, no stars. Figures in the distance. An open field with blue flowers bending to a howling wind. A powerful stench of ammonia stinging my nostrils. Something to my immediate left, ripping the car door straight off the hinges.
Blink. Running. Ruins of a town. It seemed familiar, but there was barely anything left. My leg was bleeding. I was being followed. No matter where I turned, or where I ran, I seemed to end up at the same intersection.
Blink. A three-story building, brimming with life. Glimpses of arm-long antennae through the broken windows. Clickety-clack of bursting wings tapping against crumbling concrete. A loud warning shriek as something rubs its legs together; a call for prey.
Blink. Hiding in a tipped-over trash container. The rain has stopped in mid-air. Raindrops held in indefinite suspension. I suck water drops out of the air to quench my thirst. My hands are shaking from the blood loss.
Countless little images. Some in order, some not. I have no idea how much time passed. In the moment, it must’ve been much longer than I can remember. Days. Weeks, even. There’s no way to tell.
Blink. Walking through a barren field. It feels like walking through a dead forest, but there are no trees. Only those willingly impaled and wailing.
Blink. An abandoned booth by a broken highway. A sign offers phone calls, in exchange for “real teeth”. There are six sizes of pliers hanging on a wall within. All are bloodied – even the small ones.
Blink. The church that had burned down the night before had reappeared. The people inside, too. They couldn’t leave. Tonight, they would burn again.
Somewhere in this nightmarish puzzle-pieced fragment of nothing, there was a constant drive in me to get away. To get out. I knew that if I’d gotten there, I could get back home again. I just had no idea how. Maybe finding the kid. Asking. Begging. Something.
The last fragment of memory from that space was being cornered in a cellar. They were banging on the door. I’d tipped over a wardrobe to keep them out, but they weren’t going to stop. They were never going to stop. I couldn’t let them kill me again – not like that.
One of the Changed ones were coming. I don’t know what that means, or how I know the name, but I knew of it. There was a mirror, and I could see the signs. It stepped out. Seven feet tall, black as night. Elongated arms and neck. Barely a body at all – just a void space vaguely shaped like the remnants of a person.
Except this one felt… familiar. It was the first one to speak.
“H E L L O.”
Blink. Running. A cold hand. If I squeezed too hard, my fingers went straight through it. I had to keep up. He was showing me something.
Blink. They were flooding over the school bus, tipping it by their sheer numbers. Eruptions from the sewer grates. They were famished.
Blink. An open field. Sunflowers facing me, no matter where I turn. It’s not far.
Blink. I look back, as I’m pushed over the edge. He looks just like the rest of them. They aren’t angered by his betrayal.
They feel nothing, as I fall.
In February of 2017, I was found by the side of the road. I’d been gone for months. My car was too. I came back with nothing but the clothes on my back and countless scars. I’ve been told that I didn’t make any sense at first; I was just rambling nonsense. Or maybe it just sounded like nonsense to these people.
Over time, I forgot more and more of these fragmented images. And the less I remember, the more I can move on. Still, I’ve written them down over time, and they paint an ugly, insane picture of what I’d been going through. Some of which I, myself, have a hard time believing. Then again, I know myself well enough to see that there’s no point in lying.
I haven’t seen Samuel, or that strange kid ever since. I think this is all over, for now. There’s nothing left for me to give.
But even now, years later, I still wake up to that feeling at night. That there’s something wrong, or that I’m forgetting something. That there’s something near that I’m looking straight through, or past.
And every now and then, I hear the flutter of a moth’s wing, tapping against my bedroom window.
And I think I know what it wants.
It wants me to go back.
submitted by Saturdead to nosleep [link] [comments]
A couple of weekends a month, we had an all-night crew to serve passing truckers. You usually never had to do more than one shift though, and we got to make own schedules. Our boss was pretty hands-off. It was during one of those shifts, at the first week of early summer, that my life took a turn for the worse – and I didn’t even realize it.
We were used to having the occasional odd customer during those hours of the day. When this guy walked in, I didn’t know what to think. He was about 6’2, bald, and pale as chalk. He wore this worn-out t-shirt that looked like it’d been on fire. With every step, he dragged his feet, and collapsed in one of our booths, seemingly exhausted.
I looked back at the chef, and he just shrugged. Guy wasn’t hurting anyone, but he didn’t look like he was all there. But a job’s a job, so I went up to him.
“You alright there?” I asked.
He looked up at me like I was speaking a foreign language, then sunk his head back down, gently shaking it.
“Nah,” he said. “I, uh… I don’t think I am.”
He had this voice on the knife’s edge between a hysterical laugh and a howling cry. He was trembling.
“You need me to call someone?”
“Call?”
“Yeah, call someone.”
“How?”
I didn’t understand the question. I figured he was coming down from some kind of binge, and I wasn’t about to take any chances. I asked the chef to get me a side of bacon to keep the guy calm while I called the police.
As I slid the plate over to him, he sunk his face into his hands, sobbing.
“T-thank you,” he cried. “I-I’m… please…”
I sat down across from him, instinctively reaching out to grab his hand. He let me. Even at a light touch, I could feel the scars on his palm and fingertips. Whatever’d happened to him, it must’ve been awful.
“I can’t go back,” he sniffled. “Don’t make me go back. I can’t. Please, I can’t.”
“You’re not going anywhere. It’s okay,” I smiled. “You’re safe here.”
“Can you help me?” he asked. “Can you keep him out?”
“I’m sure we can figure it out,” I nodded. “Just eat up. It’s okay.”
His fingers trembled as he tentatively bit off a piece of bacon. His teeth were black, and he flinched.
“I need time,” he said. “I need time to run.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “We’ve called for help.”
“I just… I just need time.”
We just sat there for a while. He calmed his breathing but kept staring out the window. I could tell he was looking for something – or someone. All I could see was a road and a handful of moths. We sat there for some time, in silence, as he carefully nibbled on the slices of maple bacon.
As two police officers entered the diner, he got up from his seat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of scrunched-up trash. A couple of singles, a plastic card, dirt, and something resembling animal bones. He tried to straighten out the bills, pushing them into my hands along with the laminated card.
“Just… I need time. I’ll come back. Please.”
I didn’t understand. I just nodded and accepted it. Seconds later, the officers asked him to step outside and explain the situation. I got busy taking orders from a couple of passing truckers, watching glimpses of the scene through the window. A couple of minutes later, the strange man was taken away.
My shift ended at sunrise. I dragged myself to my car with a yawn, shuffling around my pockets for the keys. I hadn’t thought much about the items he’d handed me, but I took a closer look. I’d thrown away the animal bones and dirt, but there were a couple of dollar bills and that laminated card left. I checked the card first.
It looked like some kind of bookmark. On one side it was completely white, and on the other side there were dried blue flower petals arranged in a spiral. Kinda reminded me of a sunflower. And finally, there were the dollar bills.
I didn’t pay much attention to these at first. Just a couple of singles. But after a closer look, I noticed something unusual. There was a man on the bill that I didn’t recognize. It took me a couple of google searches to realize that this man was Walter Mondale – the man who’d lost to Ronald Reagan’s second run for president back in ’84. Why was this man on a one-dollar bill?
Before heading to bed, I put the items down on my nightstand. In a moment of silent wonder, I looked out the window. What had that man been looking for? What’d he been running from?
There was nothing out there.
Just a couple of moths.
Waking up the next morning, I had a full day off. I spent it cleaning my apartment, watching movies, having dinner with a couple of friends, and ending the night with a couple of drinks at the pub down on the corner. No binge or anything, just got a bit boozy. I was still gonna be in bed by midnight.
I took the scenic route home; a long walk. All the way down main street, past the lake. I took a shortcut through the park by the final stretch, speeding up a bit. That place was trouble.
As I hurried by the fountain, I spotted someone in the distance. A shrouded figure at the edge of the streetlights. I stopped to observe for a second, but as I did, the lights flickered. Coming back on, the figure was gone.
I chalked it up to imagination. I was a bit drunk, after all. Besides – it was small, like a child. What the hell would a kid be doing out at this hour?
A couple of days passed. I didn’t notice anything unusual, but I kept coming back to that distressing feeling of missing something important. Looking back at it now, I just feel dumb. He was there all along. Outside the supermarket. In the parking lot. Off the highway. Hell, he was outside my window at night sometimes, but just too short for me to spot.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
It wasn’t until one morning when I was driving to work that I got a clear view of him. I was crossing a four-way street, taking a sharp left turn, when I had to throw myself on the breaks. There was a kid in the middle of the street.
I hadn’t seen him that clearly before. He was probably around 6, maybe 7 years old. Wearing a plain black shirt and a pair of light blue canvas pants. Short black hair, dark eyes, and no shoes. That particular detail stuck with me. No shoes? Why?
I almost lost control, but I was lucky. There wasn’t much traffic, and I managed to stop further down the road. There were black lines in the pavement from my screeching tires swerving back and forth. Regaining my composure, I looked in the rear-view mirror.
The kid was gone.
But that was just the start.
I’d spot him every now and then. Looking out the window at work. At the gas station. A passing face in the crowd when shopping for groceries. Every now and then, something would pull on my attention, forcing me to whip my head around, looking for the source of that ill feeling crawling up my spine. Sometimes I saw him. And even worse – sometimes I didn’t.
I remember lying awake at night, hearing moths tap against my window. There was nothing else. Nothing outside. I patrolled my apartment six times, checking every window. I’d looked everywhere, and there was no reason for me to feel the way I did. I was growing paranoid.
And yet, in the morning, my front door was unlocked, and slightly open.
It all came to a head one afternoon when I was out on my smoke break. I’d barely slept for the past three nights, and you could kinda tell I was having a bad day. As I stood there, leaning against the side door of the diner, I see the kid again. This time just across the road, maybe 50 feet or so away. I’d had enough. This had to end.
I was furious. I stormed forward, calling him out with every slur and curse I could think of. I was psyching myself up. I was in the right, and I refused to be harassed anymore – kid or not. Didn’t matter. I crossed the road, barely dodging a speeding jeep, and met him face-to-face.
“What the hell do you want?!” I’d yell. “Why are you following me?!”
He was completely expressionless. He didn’t even flinch, no matter how much I pointed or screamed. I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, and he didn’t even blink. He just stared at me, like a porcelain doll head on a swivel.
I wasn’t thinking about the bystanders though. A couple of middle-aged men stepped up, asking in no kind terms what the hell was wrong with me. I was held back and restrained. Someone called the police. Someone else called my manager – I’d forgotten to take off my apron, so they could see the diner logo. A couple of people filmed it. One of the videos got like 120k views in a day before it fell off the map. I still see it as a react gif sometimes.
It was a disaster. After a couple of officers came by to talk to me, he’d just disappeared into thin air. The officers took me down to the station – not to detain me, but to get me away from the heated crowd. That car ride downtown sobered me up to what the hell was going on. I was being stalked by this kid, but there wasn’t a living soul out there that would believe me.
Well, maybe one.
Maybe.
I was asked a couple of questions and released within about half an hour. They told me to go home and sleep this whole thing off. That wouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t have a job to go back to anyway, according to the (many) texts I’d gotten. I had all the goddamn time in the world.
I was just about to leave when something came to mind. The two officers who’d picked me up were still waiting by their car when I turned back to them.
“Sorry, you picked up the guy I called in about at the diner, right?” I asked.
“Sure did.”
“You got any idea what happened to him?”
The two looked at one another for a moment, shrugged, and turned to me.
“Didn’t have any ID and gave a fake name. I think they took him to psych.”
“Psych?”
“Well, he was saying some, uh… strange things. There were interviews with a, uh…”
The two quieted down and flashed me a smile.
“There’s not that much we can say.”
Coming home, I decided to get to the root of this. It didn’t take me that long to find the place where the guy’d been taken; there aren’t a lot of mental health facilities in this part of the country. Especially facilities that accept involuntary subjects.
But my eyes kept drifting back to the strange dollar bills he’d given me, resting neatly on my nightstand. They were so detailed. A bit old, sure, but that only made them seem more genuine. What the hell was he doing with a handful of clearly fake dollar bills? Like, what’s the purpose? There had to be a purpose.
That unnerved me.
I managed to arrange a meeting. It wasn’t easy, and I think a lot of it boiled down to the police having no idea what could make this guy talk. For some reason, he kept providing them with false information. Maybe a familiar face, for one reason or another, might make him talk.
Just a couple of days later, I was putting my items in a metal bowl on the second floor at a mental health institute in the next town over. I asked one of the nurses if I could keep one of my dollar bills. Apparently, that was okay.
I was shuffled through a couple of locked doors and escorted to an off-white side-room. No décor, no locks. The guy was already there.
He’d been dressed down into these neutral eggshell-white garbs. It was strange seeing him in a lit-up room like this. I didn’t know what to expect.
Getting a closer look at him, he was probably in his 50’s. It’d been hard to tell earlier. I couldn’t get over just how pale he was; it was almost a complete lack of pigment. It looked sickly. His thin arms didn’t help – he looked malnourished. And yet, he was smiling.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello to you too,” I smiled. “You doing okay?”
“I’m… I’m pretty good,” he nodded. “Thank you.”
I sat down across from him and took out the dollar bill he’d given me.
“I wanted to ask you about this.”
“For the bacon,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, was that not enough?”
“No, it’s…”
I took a moment to compose myself. I had too many questions.
He sighed, took the bill, and looked it over. Looking back at me, I could tell there was something painful stirring in his mind. His smile slowly faded.
“Sorry,” he said. “I try to forget sometimes. It’s easier than making sense of it.”
“Let’s start with something simple,” I nodded. “Like… your name. Where you’re from.”
“Those things are pretty far from simple.”
He was looking straight through me; his eyes sinking back to deeper, more uncomfortable thoughts.
His name was Samuel, and he was born around these parts in back in the 1970’s. He’d worked as a telecommunications specialist out of St. Cloud back in the 90's. He had a wife, three children, and a four-bedroom house.
“But it… that was all before, see?” he explained. “Then it all just…”
“Just what?” I asked. “What happened?”
He looked at me, opening and closing his mouth, looking for the right words to come out. Nothing happened. He shook his head, trying again.
“It started with the street preachers,” he said. “Hundreds of them, marching on every city. All saying the same doomsday shit as always. World was dying. All coming to an end.”
“I haven’t seen anything like that.”
“Then there were storms,” he continued without skipping a beat. “Some would last for weeks. Others longer. Entire cities would be flooded or torn apart. Earthquakes causing monster waves along the east coast, sending shockwaves all the way to mainland Europe. Then, Yellowstone.”
“Yellowstone?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Lights out.”
Samuel was painting this apocalyptic vision of a world undone. Catastrophe after catastrophe. Hooded people marching the streets, screaming for the mercy of a mad god. But there was more to it.
“Then things stopped making sense. It’s as if the rules changed,” he continued. “Roads would stop leading home. Trees would change color. People turned twisted and corrupted. Like… one of our neighbors couldn’t eat anything but gunpowder. There was a woman just down the street who tried to kill anyone wearing glasses. It was… pandemonium.”
I didn’t say anything. What he was saying didn’t make any sense, but he was trying his best to keep his rambling coherent.
“The plants died. Trees too. The only thing that could grow in that environment were these twisted blue things that popped up out of nowhere. But people… people are what got twisted the most.”
He told me of these towering 7-foot-tall humanoid creatures that roamed the forests. Black as night – not even reflecting light. Arms reaching all the way to their knees. Elongated, inhuman things that all used to be someone he knew.
“The doomsayers all said the same thing,” he continued. “That God was a scared little boy, and that he was dying. Everything that was happening was just an expression of that ceaseless, bottomless, existential grief.”
Samuel looked back and forth, finally burying his face in his hands.
“It all broke down. Roads stopped leading anywhere. No power. No water. Julie changed. Ollie changed. Tobie made himself a mask and wandered off into the woods. Ira just… disappeared. And for… years? Has it been years? It’s just been me.”
“But you’re here, now,” I said. “And what you’re describing, it… it didn’t happen.”
“It happened,” he insisted. “Just not… here. But here.”
He tapped his finger on the single dollar bill.
“Somewhere, somehow, I must’ve taken a wrong turn. I slipped through something broken, and now I’m here. And… and he’s coming to bring me back. He doesn’t want anyone to leave.”
“Who?”
“Just! Just…” he chuckled. “Just a sad little boy who’s been told he’s going to die.”
I didn’t know what to say. I just sat with him for a while, holding his hand.
Before I left, Samuel got up from his chair. He looked at me, forcing himself to smile.
“If I go back, I’ll try not to… to be like them. I’ll try. And… and I’ll be the one to say something.”
He let out a painful little laugh, shaking his head.
“Maybe just a… hello.”
I left that day with more questions than answers. I couldn’t picture the world he’d lived through. Then again, how could it be true? None of it had happened. But what was he gaining from lying about it?
That was the last time I saw Samuel. A few days later, he went missing, as if he’d disappeared into thin air. I didn’t know what to think of it. There was nothing on the cameras – no one entering or leaving the building. No quick escapes, no clever plans. He’d just walked into his room and disappeared. Nothing left but a couple of moths fluttering about.
And for a while, that was it. That was the end of the story. I got busy looking for a new job, and all the little items given to me by Samuel was put away into a little box in my glove compartment. Life soldiered on, and no matter how many questions I had, there was no one around to answer them. Even the strange kid that’d been following me was, seemingly, gone.
A couple of months later, I was driving home from a friend’s place. I stopped at a four-way street, waiting for a couple of trucks to pass, when there was a knock on the passenger side window. I almost choked on my own spit. Scared me half to death.
Looking out, I could see that kid again. I hadn’t seen him for some time, and I quickly bounced between curiosity and downright anger.
“What do you want?” I yelled out.
There was no response. Instead, the door just opened. It’d been locked. As he opened the door, he pointed to the glove box.
“You want his things?” I asked. “Is that it?”
He nodded. I wanted to lash out, but there was something telling me I shouldn’t. Instead, I reached over, opened the glove compartment, and pointed to the box.
“Just take it and leave me alone,” I said. “Get it over with.”
He reached in and grabbed the box. So much effort for a couple of mementos. I turned my head back to face the road. The kid backed out. But of course, I had to get the last word in.
“Not even a thank you, huh?”
That made him pause. He looked at me, tilting his head. As he opened his mouth to speak, a moth fluttered out. Then another. And another.
Then – darkness.
What happened next is hard to describe. My memory of it is fragmented. It’s like trying to watch a buffering video, where long stretches of it are just nothing – but you know something was supposed to happen in-between.
Blink. I was sitting in my car. There was a dark blue sky. No clouds, no stars. Figures in the distance. An open field with blue flowers bending to a howling wind. A powerful stench of ammonia stinging my nostrils. Something to my immediate left, ripping the car door straight off the hinges.
Blink. Running. Ruins of a town. It seemed familiar, but there was barely anything left. My leg was bleeding. I was being followed. No matter where I turned, or where I ran, I seemed to end up at the same intersection.
Blink. A three-story building, brimming with life. Glimpses of arm-long antennae through the broken windows. Clickety-clack of bursting wings tapping against crumbling concrete. A loud warning shriek as something rubs its legs together; a call for prey.
Blink. Hiding in a tipped-over trash container. The rain has stopped in mid-air. Raindrops held in indefinite suspension. I suck water drops out of the air to quench my thirst. My hands are shaking from the blood loss.
Countless little images. Some in order, some not. I have no idea how much time passed. In the moment, it must’ve been much longer than I can remember. Days. Weeks, even. There’s no way to tell.
Blink. Walking through a barren field. It feels like walking through a dead forest, but there are no trees. Only those willingly impaled and wailing.
Blink. An abandoned booth by a broken highway. A sign offers phone calls, in exchange for “real teeth”. There are six sizes of pliers hanging on a wall within. All are bloodied – even the small ones.
Blink. The church that had burned down the night before had reappeared. The people inside, too. They couldn’t leave. Tonight, they would burn again.
Somewhere in this nightmarish puzzle-pieced fragment of nothing, there was a constant drive in me to get away. To get out. I knew that if I’d gotten there, I could get back home again. I just had no idea how. Maybe finding the kid. Asking. Begging. Something.
The last fragment of memory from that space was being cornered in a cellar. They were banging on the door. I’d tipped over a wardrobe to keep them out, but they weren’t going to stop. They were never going to stop. I couldn’t let them kill me again – not like that.
One of the Changed ones were coming. I don’t know what that means, or how I know the name, but I knew of it. There was a mirror, and I could see the signs. It stepped out. Seven feet tall, black as night. Elongated arms and neck. Barely a body at all – just a void space vaguely shaped like the remnants of a person.
Except this one felt… familiar. It was the first one to speak.
“H E L L O.”
Blink. Running. A cold hand. If I squeezed too hard, my fingers went straight through it. I had to keep up. He was showing me something.
Blink. They were flooding over the school bus, tipping it by their sheer numbers. Eruptions from the sewer grates. They were famished.
Blink. An open field. Sunflowers facing me, no matter where I turn. It’s not far.
Blink. I look back, as I’m pushed over the edge. He looks just like the rest of them. They aren’t angered by his betrayal.
They feel nothing, as I fall.
In February of 2017, I was found by the side of the road. I’d been gone for months. My car was too. I came back with nothing but the clothes on my back and countless scars. I’ve been told that I didn’t make any sense at first; I was just rambling nonsense. Or maybe it just sounded like nonsense to these people.
Over time, I forgot more and more of these fragmented images. And the less I remember, the more I can move on. Still, I’ve written them down over time, and they paint an ugly, insane picture of what I’d been going through. Some of which I, myself, have a hard time believing. Then again, I know myself well enough to see that there’s no point in lying.
I haven’t seen Samuel, or that strange kid ever since. I think this is all over, for now. There’s nothing left for me to give.
But even now, years later, I still wake up to that feeling at night. That there’s something wrong, or that I’m forgetting something. That there’s something near that I’m looking straight through, or past.
And every now and then, I hear the flutter of a moth’s wing, tapping against my bedroom window.
And I think I know what it wants.
It wants me to go back.
2024.05.18 23:24 TheBookGorilla ✅ Memory Man David Baldacci 4/5 ⭐️ ⏭️ Horse Geraldine Brooks 84/100
 | submitted by TheBookGorilla to 52book [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 23:23 Mission_Journalist69 I fucking hate these fat black niggers
Even I as a black person myself see these stupid monkeys roaming the streets gang banging and just being retarded and I think why can’t we just kill all of these gangsters, and then I look at those greasy fucking land whales with their fucking kfc and whatever fucking process “soul food” that they eat it makes me fucking sick to my stomach knowing that I have to be the same skin color as these obviously retarded and mentally incapable sub-humanoids. I believe that the only thing keeping me from being like one of those fucking monkeys is my white ancestry which I am thankful for. all of their disgusting culture music and their abhorrent ghettoness just makes me want to put their asses in a fucking gas chamber and see with their nasty ratchet asses, fuck it glory to the KKK.
submitted by Mission_Journalist69 to hateniggs [link] [comments]
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Bloodshot [2020] (MA + Sony points)
Bridge Of Spies [2015] (MA + 150 points)
Call Me By Your Name (MA + Sony points)
Candyman: Day Of The Dead (Vudu or Google Play)
Cats & Dogs 3: Paws Unite (MA)
Desperation Road [2023 (Vudu HD or iTunes 4K)
Disneynature: Bears [2014] (MA + 150 points)
Divergent Series Trilogy, The [Divergent, Insurgent & Allegiant] (Vudu or Google Play)
Equalizer 3, The [2023] (MA + Sony points) PENDING
Exorcist: Believer, The [2023] (MA)
Fast X [2023] (MA + Universal Rewards points)
Fruitvale Station (Vudu)
Glass [2019] (MA)
Goosebumps [2018] (MA + Sony points)
Grand Budapest Hotel, The (MA or Google Play/ports)
Grown Ups 2 (MA + Sony points)
Halloween Kills [2021] (MA)
Hocus Pocus (MA + 150 points/no iTunes option)
Holmes & Watson [2018] (MA + Sony points)
Hundred Foot Journey, The [2014] (MA + 150 points)
Insidious: Chapter 3 (MA + Sony points)
Into The Woods [2014] (MA + 150 points)
Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (Vudu)
Killing Gunther (Vudu)
Lion King, The [1994] (MA + 150 points)
Little House On The Prairie season 5 (Vudu)
Midsommar [A24] (Vudu or Google Play)
Mindcage (Vudu or iTunes)
Money Monster [2016] (MA + Sony points)
Nurse Jackie season 7 (Vudu)
Orange Is The New Black season 1 (Vudu)
Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters (iTunes/ports)
Pete's Dragon [2016] (MA + 150 points)
Planes: Fire & Rescue [2014] (MA + 150 points)
Pride + Prejudice + Zombies [2016] (MA + Sony points)
Public Enemies [2009] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Punisher, The [2004] (Vudu or Google Play)
Queen Of Katwe [2016] (MA + 150 points)
Robin Hood [1973] (MA + 150 points)
Scoob! [2020] (MA)
Secret Life Of Pets 2, The [2019] (MA)
Snow White & The Seven Dwarfs [1937] (MA + 150 points)
Spider-Man: Into The Spiderverse (MA + Sony points)
Secret: Dare To Dream, The (Vudu, iTunes or Google Play)
Super Mario Bros. Movie, The [2023] (MA)
Tyler Perry's Diary Of A Mad Black Woman [2005] (Vudu)
Tyler Perry's Madea Goes To Jail (Vudu or Google Play)
Us [2019] (MA)
Vanishing, The [2019] (Vudu or Google Play)
Venture Bros: Radiant Is The Blood Of The Baboon Heart [2023] (MA)
Walking Dead season 9, The (Vudu or Google Play)
Walking Dead season 10, The (Vudu or Google Play)
Way Way Back, The [2013] (MA or Google Play/ports)
Whiplash [2014] (MA + Sony points)
🦝
$2 Codes
💲2 HD
13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers Of Benghazi (iTunes 4K)2 Guns [2013] (iTunes/ports 4K) PENDING
31 [2016] (Vudu)
3 From Hell [Unrated] (Vudu 4K or iTunes 4K)
About Last Night [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (MA)
Action Point [2018] (iTunes 4K)
Admission [2013] (iTunes/ports)
Adventures Of Tintin, The (Vudu or iTunes)
After Earth [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Age Of Adaline, The (Vudu, iTunes or Google Play)
Alien Covenant (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA/GP)
Allied [2016] (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Aloha [2015] (MA + Sony points)
Alpha [2018] (MA + Sony points)
Alpha & Omega 2: A Howl-lday Adventure (Vudu)
Alvin & The Chipmunks: The Road Chip (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
American Girl: Isabelle Dances Into The Spotlight (MA)
American Hustle [2013] (MA + Sony points)
American Reunion [Unrated] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues (Vudu or iTunes)
Annie [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Arrival [2016] (Vudu)
Art Of Self-Defense, The [2019] (MA)
Assassin's Creed (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Atomic Blonde (MA)
Avengers: Infinity War (MA + 150 points/no iTunes option)
Battleship [2012] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Baywatch (iTunes 4K)
Beauty & The Beast [2017] (MA + 150 points/iTunes option is expired)
Beguiled, The [2017] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Beirut [2018] (MA)
Ben-Hur [2016] (Vudu)
Best Man Holiday, The [2013] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Blackhat [2015] (iTunes/ports)
Black Panther [2018] (MA + 150 points/no iTunes option)
Bohemian Rhapsody (MA or Google Play/ports)
Book Club [2018] (iTunes 4K)
Boss Baby, The [2017] (MA)
Bourne Legacy, The (iTunes/ports 4K)
Boy, The [2016] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Boyhood [2014] (iTunes)
Boy Next Door, The [2015] (iTunes/ports)
Breakthrough [2019] (MA or Google Play/ports)
Bridesmaids [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports)
Broken City [2013] (MA)
Bumblebee (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Cabin In The Woods, The (Vudu/GP HD or iTunes 4K)
Captain America: Civil War (MA only/no points or iTunes option)
Captain Phillips [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie (MA)
Case For Christ, The [2017] (MA)
Choice, The [2016] (Vudu or iTunes)
Company Of Heroes [2013] (MA)
Contraband (iTunes/ports)
Cowboys & Aliens [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports) PENDING
Curse Of Chucky [2013] [Unrated] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Daddy's Home (iTunes 4K)
Dark Tower, The [2017] (MA + Sony points)
Dead Again In Tombstone [2017] (MA)
Dead In Tombstone [Unrated] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Dead Man Down [2013] (MA)
Deepwater Horizon (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Despicable Me 2 (iTunes/ports 4K)
Despicable Me 3 (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Devil's Due [2014] (MA or Google Play/ports)
Diary Of A Wimpy Kid: Dog Days (MA, iTunes or Google Play/ports)
Diary Of A Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul (MA, iTunes or Google Play/ports)
Django Unchained (Vudu)
Downsizing (iTunes 4K)
Downton Abbey [2019] (MA)
Dracula Untold (iTunes/ports 4K)
Dragonheart 3: The Sorcerer's Curse (iTunes/ports)
Dredd [2012] (Vudu)
Dr. Seuss’ How The Grinch Stole Christmas [2000] (MA)
Duff, The (iTunes or Google Play)
Emoji Movie, The [2017] (MA + Sony points)
Ender's Game (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Epic [2013] (MA)
Equalizer, The [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Equalizer 2, The (MA + Sony points)
Escape From Planet Earth (Vudu)
Everest [2015] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Ex Machina (Vudu)
Exodus: Gods & Kings (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
F9: The Fast Saga [2021] [Theatrical & Extended] (MA + Universal Rewards points) PENDING
Fast & Furious [2009] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Fast & The Furious, The [2001] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Fast & The Furious: Tokyo Drift, The (iTunes/ports 4K)
Fate Of The Furious [F8] [Theatrical] (MA 4K)
Fences [2016] (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Fifty Shades Darker [2017] [Unrated] (MA 4K)
Fifty Shades Of Grey (iTunes/ports 4K)
Finding Dory (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA + 150 points)
Flight [2012] (Vudu or iTunes)
Fortress [2021] (Vudu or Google Play)
Frozen [2013] (iTunes/ports 4K+ 150 points)
Fury [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Get Out [2017] (MA)
Ghost Team One [2013] (Vudu or iTunes)
Gifted [2017] (MA or Google Play/ports, iTunes option is expired)
God Bless The Broken Road (Vudu or Google Play)
Gods Not Dead 2 [2016] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Gods Of Egypt (Vudu/GP HD or iTunes 4K)
Great Wall, The [2017] (MA)
Grey, The [2012] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol.2 (MA + 150 points/no iTunes option)
Guilt Trip, The [2012] (Vudu)
Hacksaw Ridge (Vudu or Google Play/iTunes option expired)
Hail, Caesar [2016] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Halloween [2018] (MA)
Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters [Unrated] (Vudu or iTunes)
Hateful Eight, The (Vudu or Google Play)
Heat, The [2013] [Theatrical] (MA or Google Play/ports)
Hell Or High Water (Vudu or Google Play)
Hercules [2014] (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Hitman's Bodyguard, The (Vudu or Google Play/iTunes option is expired)
Home [2015] [DreamWorks] (MA)
Homefront [2013] (iTunes/ports)
Honey 2 [2011] (MA or iTunes/ports)
How To Train Your Dragon 2 (MA)
Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1, The (iTunes 4K or Google Play HD)
Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 2, The (Vudu)
Instant Family (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Internship, The [2013] (MA or Google Play/ports)
Invisible Man, The [1933] (MA)
It Follows [2015] (Vudu)
Jackass 3 [Theatrical] (Vudu or iTunes)
Jack Reacher (Vudu)
Jack Reacher: Never Go Back (Vudu)
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit (iTunes 4K)
Jason Bourne [2016] (iTunes/ports 4K)
John Henry [2020] (Vudu)
John Wick (iTunes 4K)
John Wick 1 & 2 (Vudu or Google Play)
John Wick: Chapter 2 (iTunes 4K)
John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum (iTunes 4K) or all 3 for $5
Joy [2015] (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle (MA + Sony points)
Jurassic World (iTunes/ports 4K)
Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (MA)
Justice [2017] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Kick-Ass 2 [2013] (MA)
Kidnap [2017] (iTunes/ports)
Killer Elite (iTunes/ports)
Kingsman: The Golden Circle (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Kingsman: The Secret Service (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Last Knights [2015] (Vudu)
Last Vegas [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Last Witch Hunter, The [2015] (iTunes 4K or Google Play)
Let's Be Cops [2014] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Life Of Pi (iTunes/ports 4K)
Lockout [2012] [Unrated] (MA + Sony points)
Logan [2017] (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Lone Survivor [2013] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Longest Ride, The (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Lorax, The [2012] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Love, Simon [2018] (MA)
Lucy [2014] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Maleficent (iTunes/ports 4K + 150 points)
Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again [2018] (MA)
Man With The Iron Fists, The [2012] [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports)
Marauders (Vudu)
Martian, The [2015] [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Mary Poppins [1964] (MA + 150 points)
Maze Runner, The [2014] (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Mechanic: Resurrection (Vudu/GP HD or iTunes 4K)
Men In Black 3 (MA + Sony points)
MI-5 [2015] (Vudu)
Mile 22 (iTunes 4K)
Mindgamers [2017] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Miracles From Heaven (MA + Sony points)
Mission Impossible: Fallout (iTunes 4K)
Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation (iTunes 4K)
Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Moms’ Night Out [2014] (MA)
Monuments Men, The [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Mortal Engines [2018] (MA) PENDING
Mortal Instruments: The City Of Bones, The [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Mother's Day [2016] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Mountain Between Us, The [2017] (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Mummy, The [2017] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Murder On The Orient Express [2017] (MA or Google Play/ports)
My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 (iTunes/ports)
Neighbors [2014] (iTunes/ports)
Night At The Museum: Secret Of The Tomb (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Noah [2014] (Vudu)
Non-Stop [2014] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Norm Of The North (Vudu or iTunes)
Now You See Me 2 (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Nut Job, The [2014] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Oblivion [2013] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Ouija [2014] (MA)
Overlord [2018] (Vudu)
Oz: The Great & Powerful (MA + 100 points)
Paddington (Vudu)
Paranormal Activity [2009] [Theatrical] (iTunes)
Paranormal Activity 2 [Unrated Director's Cut] (Vudu or iTunes)
Paranormal Activity 3 [Extended] (Vudu or iTunes)
Paranormal Activity 4 [Unrated] (iTunes)
Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones [Theatrical] (iTunes)
Passengers [2016] (MA + Sony points)
Percy Jackson: Sea Of Monsters (MA or Google Play/ports)
Pet Sematary [2019] (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Philomena (Vudu)
Pitch Perfect (iTunes/ports 4K)
Playing With Fire (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Predator, The [2018] (MA or Google Play/ports)
Project Almanac (iTunes)
Prometheus (MA or Google Play/ports, no iTunes option)
Proud Mary [2018] (MA)
Purge: Anarchy, The (iTunes/ports 4K) PENDING
Quiet Place, A [2018] (iTunes 4K)
Ralph Breaks The Internet (MA + 150 points/no iTunes option)
Red Dawn [2012] (Vudu or Google Play)
Redemption [2013] (Vudu)
Replicas [2019] (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Riddick [Unrated] (MA)
Rings [2017] (Vudu)
R.I.P.D. Rest In Peace Department (iTunes/ports 4K)
Rise Of The Guardians [2011] (MA)
Risen [2016] (MA + Sony points)
Robin Hood [2018] (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Rock Dog (iTunes)
Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (iTunes/ports 4K + 150 points)
Roman J. Israel, Esq [2017] (MA + Sony points)
Rush [2013] (MA) PENDING
Saban's Power Rangers (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Safe House [2012] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Savages [2012] [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports)
Scorpion King 3: Battle For Redemption (iTunes/ports)
Secret Life Of Pets, The (MA 4K or iTunes/ports 4K)
Seventh Son [2015] (iTunes/ports)
Sex Tape [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Show Dogs [2018] (MA)
Silver Linings Playbook (Vudu or Google Play)
Sing [2016] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Sinister (Vudu, iTunes or Google Play)
Sisters [2015] [Unrated] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Skyscraper [2018] (MA)
Sleepless [2017] (iTunes/ports)
Sparkle [2012] (MA)
Spider-Man: Homecoming [2017] (MA + Sony points)
Spider-Man: No Way Home [2021] (MA + Sony points)
Split [2017] (iTunes/ports 4K or MA HD)
Spy [2015] [Unrated] (MA, iTunes or Google Play/ports)
Star Trek [2009] (iTunes 4K)
Star Wars: The Force Awakens (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA + 150 points)
Step Up All In [2014] (Vudu)
Step Up Revolution (Vudu or Google Play)
Straight Outta Compton [Unrated] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Super 8 (Vudu)
Super Buddies (MA without points)
Taken 3 [Unrated] (MA, iTunes or Google Play/ports)
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles [2014] (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Terminator: Genisys (iTunes 4K)
The Night Before [2015] (MA + Sony points)
This Is The End [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Top Five [2014] (iTunes)
Top Gun (Vudu)
Total Recall [2012] [Theatrical & Director's Cut] (MA + Sony points)
Tower Heist [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports)
Tremors: A Cold Day In Hell (MA)
True Blood season 4 (iTunes)
True Grit [2010] (Vudu or iTunes)
Tyler Perry's Acrimony (Vudu, iTunes or Google Play)
Tyler Perry's A Madea Family Funeral (Vudu, iTunes or Google Play)
Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1 (iTunes 4K)
Uncle Drew [2018] (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Underworld: Blood Wars (MA + Sony points)
Vendetta [2016] (Vudu)
Venom [2018] (MA + Sony points)
Walk Among The Tombstones, A (iTunes/ports)
Walking With Dinosaurs: The Movie (MA, iTunes or Google Play/ports)
War Room [2015] (MA + Sony points)
Why Him? [2016] (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Wolf Of Wall Street, The (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Woman In Black, The [2012] (MA)
Wonder [2017] (Vudu/GP HD or iTunes 4K)
Wonder Park [2019] (iTunes 4K or Vudu HD)
Woodlawn [2015] (MA or iTunes/ports)
X-Men: Apocalypse (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
X-Men: Days Of Future Past (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Your Highness [2011] [Unrated] (iTunes/ports)
Zootopia (MA without points)
🦝
💲2 SD
127 Hours (iTunes/ports)12 Rounds [2009] [Extreme Cut] (iTunes/ports)
Aliens In The Attic (iTunes/ports)
Amelia (iTunes/ports)
Beasts Of The Southern Wild (iTunes/ports)
Black Swan (iTunes/ports)
Date Night [Unrated Extended Edition] (iTunes/ports)
Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears A Who! (ITunes/ports)
In Time [2011] (iTunes/ports)
Jumper [2008] (iTunes/ports)
Percy Jackson double feature [Lightning Thief & Sea of Monsters] (MA)
Ramona & Beezus (iTunes/ports)
Street Kings (iTunes/ports)
Three Stooges: The Movie, The [2012] (iTunes/ports)
🦝
$1 Codes
💲1 HD
13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers Of Benghazi (Vudu)Alex Cross (Vudu)
Bad Grandpa [Theatrical] (Vudu or iTunes)
Bad Moms (iTunes/ports)
Battleship [2012] (MA)
Big Hero 6 (Google Play/ports)
Book Club (Vudu)
Bourne Legacy, The (MA)
Bring It On: Worldwide Cheersmack [2017] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Deadpool (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA/GP)
Divergent (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Divergent Series: Insurgent, The (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Duff, The [2015] (Vudu)
Dying Of The Light (Vudu)
Expendables 2, The (iTunes 4K or Vudu/GP HD)
Expendables 3, The [Theatrical] (iTunes 4K or Google Play HD)
Fast & Furious 6, The [Extended] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Fast & The Furious, The [2001] (MA)
Fast & The Furious: Tokyo Drift, The (MA)
Fast Five [Extended] (MA)
Fate Of The Furious, The [8] [Theatrical or Extended] (MA)
Fault In Our Stars, The [2014] (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA/GP)
Frozen: Sing Along Edition (MA without points)
Furious 7 [Extended] (iTunes/ports 4K)
Ghost In The Shell [2017] (Vudu)
G.I. Joe: Retaliation (Vudu)
Girls Trip [2017] (MA)
Good Day To Die Hard, A [2012] [Extended] (MA or Google Play/ports)
Hidden Figures [2017] (iTunes/ports 4K or HD MA)
Hillsong: Let Hope Rise [2016] (MA or iTunes/ports)
Hugo (Vudu)
Hunger Games, The [2012] (iTunes 4K)
Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1, The (Vudu)
Huntsman: Winter's War, The [2016] [Extended] (MA)
Identity Thief [2013] [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports)
I, Frankenstein (Vudu, iTunes or Google Play)
Inside Out [2015] (Google Play/ports)
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit (Vudu)
Jason Bourne (MA)
Kevin Hart: Let Me Explain (Vudu)
Leprechaun: Origins (Vudu)
Les Misérables [2012] (MA)
Let's Be Cops [2014] (MA only/no iTunes option)
Lucy (MA)
Minions [2015] (MA)
Mission Impossible: Fallout (Vudu)
Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol (Vudu)
Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation (Vudu) or both for $2.50
Now You See Me [Extended] (Vudu or iTunes)
Parental Guidance [2012] (MA)
Perks Of Being A Wallflower, The (Vudu or Google Play)
Pitch Perfect (MA)
Red 2 (Vudu)
Ride Along 2 (MA)
RIPD Rest In Peace Department (MA)
Safe [2012] (Vudu or Google Play)
Secret Life Of Pets, The (MA)
Selma (iTunes)
Shack, The [2017] (iTunes)
Skyfall (Vudu or Google Play)
Snitch (iTunes 4K or Vudu/Google Play HD)
Star Trek: Beyond (Vudu)
Taken 2 (MA or Google Play/ports)
Ted [Unrated] (MA) or [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports)
Terminator: Genisys (Vudu)
Transformers: Age Of Extinction (iTunes 4K)
Transformers: Dark Of The Moon (Vudu)
Trolls [2017] (MA)
Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2 (iTunes 4K)
Tyler Perry's Madea's Witness Protection (iTunes)
Tyler Perry's Temptation: Confessions Of A Marriage Counselor (Vudu or Google Play)
Unbroken [2014] (MA)
Warm Bodies (Vudu)
What To Expect When You're Expecting (iTunes)
World War Z (Vudu)
Zootopia (Google Play/ports)
🦝
💲1 SD
21 Jump Street (MA + Sony points)Act Of Valor (iTunes)
After Earth [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Alpha [2018] (MA + Sony points)
Amazing Spider-Man 2, The [2014] (MA + Sony points)
American Hustle [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Bad Boys For Life [2020] (MA + Sony points)
Big Mommas Like Father, Like Son (iTunes/ports)
Captain Phillips (MA + Sony points)
Charlie's Angels [2019] (MA + Sony points)
Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs 2 [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Concussion [2015] (MA + Sony points)
Dirty 30 (Vudu)
Dog's Way Home, A [2019] (MA + Sony points)
Equalizer, The [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Equalizer 2, The (MA + Sony points)
Evil Dead [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Family, The [2013] (iTunes)
Forbidden Kingdom, The (iTunes)
Glee: The Concert (iTunes/ports)
Goosebumps 2 [2018] (MA + Sony points)
Grown Ups 2 (MA + Sony points)
Hangover, The [2009] [Theatrical] (iTunes/ports)
Haywire (iTunes)
Heat, The [2013] (iTunes/ports SD)
Here Comes The Boom [2012] (MA + Sony points)
Hotel Transylvania 3 (MA + Sony points)
Hours [2013] (Vudu)
Ice Age: Dawn Of The Dinosaurs (iTunes/ports)
Immortals [2011] (iTunes)
Insidious: Chapter 3 (MA + Sony points)
Insidious: The Last Key (MA + Sony points)
Insidious: The Red Door [2023] (MA + Sony points)
Interview, The [2014] (MA + Sony points)
Journey To Bethlehem [2023] (MA + Sony points)
Jumanji: The Next Level (MA + Sony points)
Knight & Day (iTunes/ports)
Looper (MA + Sony points)
Men In Black III [2012] (MA + Sony points)
Mirror Mirror [2012] (iTunes)
Mortal Instruments: The City Of Bones (MA + Sony points)
Night At The Museum: Battle Of The Smithsonian (iTunes/ports)
Once Upon A Time In Hollywood [2019] (MA + Sony points)
Olympus Has Fallen (MA + Sony points)
Overcomer [2019] (MA + Sony points)
Parker [2013] (MA + Sony points)
Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief (iTunes/ports)
Perfect Guy, The [2015] (MA + Sony points)
Perks Of Being A Wallflower, The (iTunes SD only)
Peter Rabbit [2018] (MA + Sony points)
Pixels [2015] (MA + Sony points)
Predators [2010] (iTunes/ports)
Public Enemies [2009] (iTunes/ports)
Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes (iTunes/ports)
Robin Hood [2010] [Unrated] (iTunes/ports)
Safe Haven (iTunes)
Scoob [2020] (MA)
Shallows, The [2016] (MA + 150 points)
Sicario: Day Of The Soldado (MA + Sony points)
Sparkle [2012] (MA)
Spider-Man: Far From Home [2019] (MA + Sony points)
Spider-Man: Into The Spiderverse (MA + Sony points)
Spider-Man: No Way Home [2021] (MA + Sony points)
Star, The [2017] (MA + Sony points)
Still Alice [2015] (MA + Sony points)
Taken [2009] [Extended Cut] (iTunes/ports)
Thousand Words, A [2012] (Vudu)
Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1 (Vudu SD only or iTunes SD only)
Tyler Perry's Madea's Tough Love (Vudu)
Underworld: Awakening (MA + Sony points)
Venom: Let There Be Carnage (MA + Sony points)
Vow, The [2012] (MA + Sony points)
When The Bough Breaks (MA + Sony points)
Zombieland: Double Tap (MA + Sony points)
🦝
Super Cheap SD & HD Codes
All movies are 3 for $1 each/must spend at least $1 on total order.Cabin In The Woods, The (Vudu SD only)
Croods, The (iTunes/ports SD)
Diary Of A Wimpy Kid: Dog Days (iTunes/ports SD)
Expendables 2, The (Vudu SD only or iTunes SD only)
Expendables 3, The [Unrated] (iTunes HD only)
Fast & Furious 6 [Extended] (MA ports HD)
Fast Five [Extended] (iTunes/ports HD)
Furious 7 [Extended] (MA ports HD)
Hunger Games, The (Vudu SD or iTunes SD only)
Hunger Games: Catching Fire, The (Vudu HD only)
John Wick 3 (Google Play HD only)
Jurassic World (MA ports HD)
Life Of Pi (iTunes/ports SD)
Mechanic: Resurrection (Vudu SD only)
Now You See Me 2 (Vudu SD only)
Star Trek: Into Darkness (Vudu HD only)
Star Wars: The Force Awakens (Google Play/ports HD)
Transformers: Age Of Extinction (Vudu HD only)
Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1 (Vudu SD only)
Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2 (Vudu SD only)
2024.05.18 23:08 MisterHinds Dafuq is this?
 | So, I got an oil change and radiator flush early Saturday at Iffy Lube on my 2005 BMW X3 >200K. Did typical weekend local trips/activities… As soon as I parked in my driveway Sunday night, approximately 35 miles later, I exit the vehicle and hear splashing followed by a quickly growing puddle at my feet. As it usually goes, this happens 8 hours before a scheduled road trip. Fade to black. submitted by MisterHinds to BmwTech [link] [comments] Fast forward to today… returned from successful trip to a still parked car. Pop the hood, fill with water, follow/identify the leak. It’s coming from a crack just under the radiator cap (I believe it to be #14 in the diagram). However, I don’t know the name of this part, and in turn, can’t source it or get an accurate repair quote... What would you call it? What would you do/suggest? Did it just fail? Or was there a build of pressure typically caused by something else? 100% thought it would have been a loose or misaligned hose when it happened. Sidebar: Should Iffy Lube be responsible for damages? If so, how should I go about holding them accountable? |
2024.05.18 23:08 Luckyfruitsnack Can someone plz photoshop my hood black?
 | submitted by Luckyfruitsnack to PhotoshopRequest [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 22:52 t0nyfranda Do I have some kind of leak?
 | Hey y’all, I’m going on a road trip tomorrow and I popped my hood to top off some fluids today. I took off the engine cover and noticed this black build up on the back of the motor around the turbo, a hose connected to the turbo, and oil fill cap. It’s like a thick black gunk that’s obviously been charred. I’m no expert but I get the feeling this is indicative of a problem somewhere under the hood. The car drives perfectly fine and hasn’t thrown any check engine codes. Has anyone seen this before or have any advice on what to check? I’d like to not break down in the middle of nowhere during this drive 😂 submitted by t0nyfranda to GolfGTI [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 22:46 SamMorrisHorror Them Devils Part 2
Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.
submitted by SamMorrisHorror to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.
2024.05.18 22:00 Overall_Flan_8383 Made a Totk outfit a week ago but I think it looks cooler dyed all black and all white. Which is better? Black or white?
 | 1st pic is hylian hood, archaic tunic dyed black, and archaic legwear. 2nd pic is hylian hood, and stealth suit dyed black 3rd and 4th pics are white versions 5th pic is the original outfit I made a post for a little over a week ago submitted by Overall_Flan_8383 to tearsofthekingdom [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 21:36 Lone-Ranger29 Taking down the clan.
 | Been working on taking down the clan since the end of the civil war. See the A.U.S is obviously the good guys. submitted by Lone-Ranger29 to Kaiserreich [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 21:29 Despair_Disease [LFA] Dolores the Agonized, ex cultist of Loviatar
Dolores the Agonized grew up in a cult dedicated to Loviatar, Goddess of Pain and Agony.
She is roughly 5'11" tall, with a slender figure. She has long black hair that she usually wears in a bun. Her eyes are an icy, piercing blue, with a scar across her left eye. Her skin is pale, though her body is covered in old scars, particularly her back. She has multiple piercings, both in her ears and face (eyebrows, nose, lips, etc.), though I haven't quite decided exactly where the piercings are.
Dolores wears a set of black robes with a hood. The robes and hood have a silver trim, and the chest has a silver cat-o-nine-tails embroidered onto it, complete with red embellishments to resemble drops of blood. Dolores carries a cat-o-nine-tails herself, which she uses both in combat and to self-flagellate as part of her rituals.
submitted by Despair_Disease to characterdrawing [link] [comments]
She is roughly 5'11" tall, with a slender figure. She has long black hair that she usually wears in a bun. Her eyes are an icy, piercing blue, with a scar across her left eye. Her skin is pale, though her body is covered in old scars, particularly her back. She has multiple piercings, both in her ears and face (eyebrows, nose, lips, etc.), though I haven't quite decided exactly where the piercings are.
Dolores wears a set of black robes with a hood. The robes and hood have a silver trim, and the chest has a silver cat-o-nine-tails embroidered onto it, complete with red embellishments to resemble drops of blood. Dolores carries a cat-o-nine-tails herself, which she uses both in combat and to self-flagellate as part of her rituals.
2024.05.18 21:19 After_Following_1456 This 1 Cracks me up!
 | Year = 1985 Toy number = 932 Casting name = Sock 'n Roll Interior = none Color = ZAMAC Series = Crack-Ups Stamper 2-Pack Tampon = "5" on sides and hood Made in = Hong Kong Windows = Black Base = Metal Unpainted Tires = Basic Wheels submitted by After_Following_1456 to HotWheels [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 20:53 mhui812 Lost Cat, $100 reward offered for safe return
https://preview.redd.it/epjlwg67e81d1.png?width=767&format=png&auto=webp&s=dff70fbe2d45ca91f1b118933518873f64178d0f
She broke out our window screen last night, we live close by the police station and library. She should be easy to identified as 90% of her body is white. Appreciate if you find her and happy to reward $100 for safe return, thanks.
call/text: (408) 708-6576 (Michael) email: [mhui@gmail.com](mailto:mhui@gmail.com)
submitted by mhui812 to NewarkCA [link] [comments]
She broke out our window screen last night, we live close by the police station and library. She should be easy to identified as 90% of her body is white. Appreciate if you find her and happy to reward $100 for safe return, thanks.
call/text: (408) 708-6576 (Michael) email: [mhui@gmail.com](mailto:mhui@gmail.com)