Blank skeletal muscle diagram
[GHS.] 2omething Sacred
2024.05.18 22:04 lolswainbot [GHS.] 2omething Sacred
OCD
This is a story about humans and animals,
In the same way a story may be about dogs and animals, cats and animals, fish and animals, bugs and animals, or birds and animals.
Snow.
All Sacrosanct could see for a million paces was snow — or were they clouds? The two began to merge at the boundaries of his sight as he stood at the peak of a national mountain. It must’ve been the tallest in town — or at least the top five.
It was a scenic landscape. A blank canvas accentuated by the unoften protrusions of mountain peaks. No trees, no birds, no plants, no animals. Only stone and snow. It was the type of serenity the usually outgoing Sacrosanct couldn’t help but be entranced by. It was an infectious zen.
He had never been this high up in the sky before — never above the clouds. Perhaps this was how the Goddess and the demon God viewed the world — or once viewed it, anyway. Blinding. Both the light that reflected off the white, and the clouds that obscured the sight. It was blinding to be a god.
The hero somehow felt that the mountain seemed familiar. If the nature of the monument was anything to go by — its dramatic shape as if it had received an earth-shattering blow against its side — this must’ve been New Amstangrad. The home of the humans.
“...Now how the hell do I get down from here?”
Before the blistering cold could begin to seep into his skin, Sacrosanct quickly activated his talent to keep himself warm. He hated the cold more than anything else, and it’d been terrible to arrive at the castle cold-ridden. The hero first began to move himself around, gaining momentum and tempo. It would be important to keep conscious amidst the blinding snow and to not fall asleep. Thankfully, it was he who found himself mysteriously atop a mountain and not anyone else.
Before he knew it, his body already began to warm up, then in an instant, his body was lit ablaze by his internal ‘passion’.
Now that he was warm and alive, he could finally begin critically processing the information he was given. Two main aspects of his current situation bothered him:
Firstly, he felt a bit younger, by around 4 or 5 years. Perhaps something had healed him from his injuries over the years, and his joints felt better than ever. The massive scar on his back stayed intact though, but then again, it was almost a part of his identity now anyways. This was one of the greatest consequences of being in the hero ‘business’; the deterioration of the body.
Day in and day out, he always worked his muscles off his bones. It must’ve been especially difficult compared to other historic heroes as he was a hero in a newly built nation under a new King. But then again, that King was his friend, June, so perhaps he had it better than he thought.
A core memory of his was when June celebrated Wundermastenn for the first time as a King. It had been an especially long and difficult year, as she rebuilt the nation from its core with the help of neighbouring kingdoms. The winter season was the only time she could relax and celebrate their achievements.
Sacrosanct still remembered her face when the mountain of presents for her was unveiled on the day of Wundermastenn. As a former thief, she must’ve never seen so many valuable items — for her to legally own. However, it was not about the value of the gifts, nor their quality or quantity. The true Wundermastenn gift was the love that June now knew she received. She no longer had to steal in the cold, unforgiving streets of Amstangrad, but now celebrated in the warm company of others, and worked to build a nation in which no one would ever have to suffer as she did.
Cold. Warm. It is vital for all creatures to be together, but sometimes, people need to be away and alone from each other. This was the first time in a while that he had the leisure to reminisce about the past. This was the first time in a while that he was alone. Alone with his thoughts. In the company of nothing but snow, Sacrosanct could finally see how much he had changed on the inside over these last few years, but on the outside, he was not much different. In the end, he was still an elf named Sacrosanct, and probably not the only one.
Secondly… why was he atop a mountain? The last memory he could conjure was of the time when he battled his greatest foe, the demon lord… Baroque — that was his name. Though to be completely honest, his true greatest foe was the old Amstangrad.
The hero supposed that the demon lord was a sort of manifestation of Amstangrad. Its fascistic qualities inspired Baroque and many others. It was a sort of intrinsic genetic disease in all sentient life, though there were many such things. Sacrosanct believed that the human evils — greed, lust, pride and such — were not human evils. Rather, they were universal evils shared by all sentient life forms. He knew best as an elf.
He believed that if dogs were smart enough, with enough time, they would also create a fascist nation. The real question would be how long they would last, and how large of an impact it would make.
It was just that kind of world. A world that encouraged dogs to eat dogs, and humans to eat humans. None were any different. Given weapons, life will kill.
And given a weapon he was. Sacrosanct had one of the greatest weapons of them all. A talent originating from the heavens, granted by the Goddess.
On that Wundermastenn day, June too was given a gift. An extraordinary gift from the kingdom of Sonosis. A weapon of mass destruction.
At the corner of his eye, he spotted a white rabbit, cleverly hiding amidst the winter snow. From the look of things, it would take hours to hike down the mountains, and like all animals, Sacrosanct had to eat somehow.
“...Well, sorry, little guy,” said Sacrosanct, “I need to return to New Amstangrad as soon as possible!”
Return to New Amstangrad… Sacrosanct had said so as if it was his second nature, but he remembered his promise to June, to never look back. He would return to his home in Championnat, and he’d reunite with his dear friend if fate willed it so.
Sacrosanct wondered if June had any plans to use the weapon, as he aimed his finger to blast it with a fire spell.
In a single moment, the heat travelled through the air, the intensity of the passion transforming all air in the way to plasma. The surrounding area became blinding as the white snow reflected the shining fireball. It was like a shooting star or a meteorite, travelling and lighting up the sky until it met its target.
However, as Sacrosanct walked to retrieve the body of the rabbit before it burned too much, the snow atop the mountain began crumbling as an avalanche began.
“Woah?!”
It seemed that a single spell was all it took to destabilize the carefully stacked snow, and soon, the hero was swept away in a torrent of white, sending him away again into another place, another time.
submitted by lolswainbot to EonsRequiem [link] [comments]
This is a story about humans and animals,
In the same way a story may be about dogs and animals, cats and animals, fish and animals, bugs and animals, or birds and animals.
Snow.
All Sacrosanct could see for a million paces was snow — or were they clouds? The two began to merge at the boundaries of his sight as he stood at the peak of a national mountain. It must’ve been the tallest in town — or at least the top five.
It was a scenic landscape. A blank canvas accentuated by the unoften protrusions of mountain peaks. No trees, no birds, no plants, no animals. Only stone and snow. It was the type of serenity the usually outgoing Sacrosanct couldn’t help but be entranced by. It was an infectious zen.
He had never been this high up in the sky before — never above the clouds. Perhaps this was how the Goddess and the demon God viewed the world — or once viewed it, anyway. Blinding. Both the light that reflected off the white, and the clouds that obscured the sight. It was blinding to be a god.
The hero somehow felt that the mountain seemed familiar. If the nature of the monument was anything to go by — its dramatic shape as if it had received an earth-shattering blow against its side — this must’ve been New Amstangrad. The home of the humans.
“...Now how the hell do I get down from here?”
Before the blistering cold could begin to seep into his skin, Sacrosanct quickly activated his talent to keep himself warm. He hated the cold more than anything else, and it’d been terrible to arrive at the castle cold-ridden. The hero first began to move himself around, gaining momentum and tempo. It would be important to keep conscious amidst the blinding snow and to not fall asleep. Thankfully, it was he who found himself mysteriously atop a mountain and not anyone else.
Before he knew it, his body already began to warm up, then in an instant, his body was lit ablaze by his internal ‘passion’.
Now that he was warm and alive, he could finally begin critically processing the information he was given. Two main aspects of his current situation bothered him:
Firstly, he felt a bit younger, by around 4 or 5 years. Perhaps something had healed him from his injuries over the years, and his joints felt better than ever. The massive scar on his back stayed intact though, but then again, it was almost a part of his identity now anyways. This was one of the greatest consequences of being in the hero ‘business’; the deterioration of the body.
Day in and day out, he always worked his muscles off his bones. It must’ve been especially difficult compared to other historic heroes as he was a hero in a newly built nation under a new King. But then again, that King was his friend, June, so perhaps he had it better than he thought.
A core memory of his was when June celebrated Wundermastenn for the first time as a King. It had been an especially long and difficult year, as she rebuilt the nation from its core with the help of neighbouring kingdoms. The winter season was the only time she could relax and celebrate their achievements.
Sacrosanct still remembered her face when the mountain of presents for her was unveiled on the day of Wundermastenn. As a former thief, she must’ve never seen so many valuable items — for her to legally own. However, it was not about the value of the gifts, nor their quality or quantity. The true Wundermastenn gift was the love that June now knew she received. She no longer had to steal in the cold, unforgiving streets of Amstangrad, but now celebrated in the warm company of others, and worked to build a nation in which no one would ever have to suffer as she did.
Cold. Warm. It is vital for all creatures to be together, but sometimes, people need to be away and alone from each other. This was the first time in a while that he had the leisure to reminisce about the past. This was the first time in a while that he was alone. Alone with his thoughts. In the company of nothing but snow, Sacrosanct could finally see how much he had changed on the inside over these last few years, but on the outside, he was not much different. In the end, he was still an elf named Sacrosanct, and probably not the only one.
Secondly… why was he atop a mountain? The last memory he could conjure was of the time when he battled his greatest foe, the demon lord… Baroque — that was his name. Though to be completely honest, his true greatest foe was the old Amstangrad.
The hero supposed that the demon lord was a sort of manifestation of Amstangrad. Its fascistic qualities inspired Baroque and many others. It was a sort of intrinsic genetic disease in all sentient life, though there were many such things. Sacrosanct believed that the human evils — greed, lust, pride and such — were not human evils. Rather, they were universal evils shared by all sentient life forms. He knew best as an elf.
He believed that if dogs were smart enough, with enough time, they would also create a fascist nation. The real question would be how long they would last, and how large of an impact it would make.
It was just that kind of world. A world that encouraged dogs to eat dogs, and humans to eat humans. None were any different. Given weapons, life will kill.
And given a weapon he was. Sacrosanct had one of the greatest weapons of them all. A talent originating from the heavens, granted by the Goddess.
On that Wundermastenn day, June too was given a gift. An extraordinary gift from the kingdom of Sonosis. A weapon of mass destruction.
At the corner of his eye, he spotted a white rabbit, cleverly hiding amidst the winter snow. From the look of things, it would take hours to hike down the mountains, and like all animals, Sacrosanct had to eat somehow.
“...Well, sorry, little guy,” said Sacrosanct, “I need to return to New Amstangrad as soon as possible!”
Return to New Amstangrad… Sacrosanct had said so as if it was his second nature, but he remembered his promise to June, to never look back. He would return to his home in Championnat, and he’d reunite with his dear friend if fate willed it so.
Sacrosanct wondered if June had any plans to use the weapon, as he aimed his finger to blast it with a fire spell.
In a single moment, the heat travelled through the air, the intensity of the passion transforming all air in the way to plasma. The surrounding area became blinding as the white snow reflected the shining fireball. It was like a shooting star or a meteorite, travelling and lighting up the sky until it met its target.
However, as Sacrosanct walked to retrieve the body of the rabbit before it burned too much, the snow atop the mountain began crumbling as an avalanche began.
“Woah?!”
It seemed that a single spell was all it took to destabilize the carefully stacked snow, and soon, the hero was swept away in a torrent of white, sending him away again into another place, another time.
2024.05.18 21:29 Kuroihane Feathers (Kassandra Curze focused little funny short story)
(Premise: Kassandra stays loyal, she was helped with her condition regarding visions by her sister Sanguinia with whom she grew close.)
Night Hauntress’ sister knelt next to their Father’s mutilated body. Ignoring all pleas, Kassandra went past the bleeding Emperor and came up to another body lying on the floor of Vengeful Spirit.
Constillation of rubies, Great Angel’s blood covered her blindingly white wings, horrifically decorated her beautiful face. Painting of gold, white and red, Kassandra Curze saw the world in wide strokes of brush, unable to perceive what she saw before her eyes. Unwilling to perceive. Night Hauntress stood there, staring at Sanguinia’s body, her eyes just gazing in nothingness. She never noticed as her Praetorian sister left, holding the Emperor of Mankind under arms.
Lagging units finally caught up to them, entering the sanctum. Warriors from Regalia’s Fists, their Father’s personal guard, Kassandra’s own Atramaentar.
Why did you come? she wanted to ask, The battle is over.
No one dared to come closer to the Night Hauntress as she froze over the Angel. Only Jago made a few steps, approaching the moveless figure of his Mother. Blood Angels were nowhere to be seen, while sounds of rampaging battle were coming closer to the sanctum.
Sudden scream of agony woke Kassandra from this trance. She turned to see the source of the sound. One man, whose height was so unnaturally smaller than that of super-humans he was surrounded by. Young man’s body twitched and squirmed in pain, as he grasped his head, covering eyes, as if trying not to see, pulling hair, as if trying not to think.
Ah, that mortal Sanguinia fancied, the thought was so mundane, it almost seemed as she simply met him in one of Red Tear’s golden corridors, she called him Dove, as I recall. Why is he weeping?
Figure of similar stature came up to Dove. Morgenstern placed a hand on the grieving man’s shoulder. Impression persisting on the assassin's face was impenetrable, but those standing close to him could notice as knuckles on his hand whitened.
Curze once again turned, returning gaze to her beloved sister. The only sister Kassandra could call beloved, even if she was shrugging, doing so. The only sister she wanted to call sister at all. Night Hauntress lowered herself, coming closer to Angel’s face.
You must be tired, she thought, your battle lasted for too long.
In one swift and tender motion Kassandra closed her sister’s eyes.
Night Hauntress stood up. Only now she noticed another figure lying on the deck. Her other sister sprawled dead in the puddle of liquefied flesh and blood, only her bare skull showing from terminator armor. As she slowly came up to Warmistress’ corpse, Kassandra's blank face finally changed, a mask of utter disdain and rage distorting Night Hauntress’ face. Long seconds passed until she moved again.
Loud crunch filled the sanctum, as Kassandra Curze lowered her boot.
***
“No.”
“Listen, you–”
“Ceremony protocol has already been decided. You’ll be near her as everyone else.”
Why, once in your damned life, why can’t you stop being an accursed wall of rockcreat bricks?! Kassandra Curze wanted to scream on top of her lungs, as she faced Praetorian of Terra. Night Hauntress wanted to strike her sister down right here and there, she wanted to keep punching this dull stone face, until it would turn into a bloody mush.
She could never understand, thought Kassandra bitterly, I doubt she ever tried.
Image of the past, image of Sanguinia, laughing at something that had seemed funny to her in Night Hauntress words, flashed Kassandra’s mind. She lowered her gaze, trying to hold her composure. Not for herself, but for someone who would be greatly disappointed in her, if she didn’t.
“If that’s all you wanted to talk about, then I shall leave”, Regalia turned, starting to walk away, “I have still many things to ate–”
“Wait!” Kassandra growled.
She dashed, catching her sister’s shoulder. Suddenly, an agonizing flash burned her mind. It was the second time her mind was attacked by a vision of a torn off hand, drifting in space among the debris. As Night Hauntress twitched in pain, she grabbed her head pushing nails deep into skin, trying to dull the vision.
Regalia turned back, embers of blazing anger started to appear in her eyes.
“Ngh–” Kassandra slightly groaned, trying to compose herself.
She managed to stand straight and, heavily breathing, looked in Regalia’s eyes.
“Re– Sister, please, it has to be me”, for the first time Unyielding One saw Night Hauntress to plead, and to plead so sincerely.
For some long moments they looked each other in the eyes, but now Regalia’s contained no fire. She saw something new in those purple eyes. Where previously lived only bitter irony and despair, now flickered determination.
Praetorian’s face softened up, enough only for the primarch to notice. Silent nod answered Kassandra’s plea.
***
Holding Angel in her arms, Kassandra Curze stepped into the biggest ceremonial hall on Terra. The biggest that wasn’t ruined by the Siege.
The hall seemed endless, countless caryatids supporting the enormous dome of the building, that became a new sky for all those present here. Images of marble and gold covered walls of the hall, images of the Emperor's most glorious victories, most fruitful of his conquests. Seeing them anywhere her eyes could reach, Kassandra felt sick.
What a jest.
She directed her gaze forward. As endless was this hall, as countless were people present here today. All those who fought and survived the Siege, all those who did not make it on time, standards for all those who fell. From simple guardsman to finest warrior of Adeptus Astartes, all these men and women were here today for the guard of honour. The last guard of honour for her who rested in Kassandra’s arms. Honour that could never be enough.
Complete silence. Complete silence surrounded Night Hauntress as she walked forward, only sounds echoing through the space being her own steps and steps of the two Astartes, Night Lord and Blood Angel, carrying Imperial and Blood Angel’s standards. Kassandra felt as if time slowed down the more steps she took.
As she went closer to the stairs of rockcreat podium, Imperial Guard at her sides changed with space-marine legions. Their halved number still seemed as something surreal to her. Night Hauntress knew her Father’s actions will lead to unspeakable tragedy, but to see it herself was something different.
The last of the Astartes were Blood Angels. Five hundred of the entire legion. All that left after the cursed insanity that consumed them. As Kassandra went past and came up to the stairs, with thunderous sound, five hundred warriors knelt in the final personal sign of honour to their Mother. Two Astartes behind Night Hauntress followed them, staying kneeling at the bottom of podium stairs.
Kassandra made a step up. And then another. As she made more steps up that damned stairs, she felt weaker and weaker, as if life itself was sucked out of her body. She did not understand this. All since the battle on Vengeful Spirit, Night Hauntress felt empty, and now an unfamiliar feeling was filling her, as she looked down at her sister's face.
Her sister was dead.
Kassandra felt a lump forming in her throat. She felt as if any other step she took could be the last before she collapses. But she could not allow herself this.
Fighting herself, Night Hauntress reached the top of the podium. She walked up to the stone bed, covered with finest silks, a red pillow laying on them looked as the softest and the most comfortable thing in the world. Kassandra never noticed other primarchs standing near.
Strength was leaving her, her whole existence trembled as she lowered Angel onto the crimson bed.Kneeling of the countless thousands of people shook the ceremonial hall. Kassandra held out a trembling hand to touch Angel’s face, to get one final moment with her sister.
And then she felt something. Something so familiar. Something so similar to Sanguinia playfully brushing Kassandra’s cheek with her wing, once again annoyed with her sister’s fatalistic nonsense.
Kassandra’s muscles finally gave in to her grief. She collapsed to her knees holding on to red silks.
And then the Dark Queen cried.
submitted by Kuroihane to PrimarchGFs [link] [comments]
Feathers
“-andra! Kassandra, damn you, help me!” called Regalia. It was so unlike her.Night Hauntress’ sister knelt next to their Father’s mutilated body. Ignoring all pleas, Kassandra went past the bleeding Emperor and came up to another body lying on the floor of Vengeful Spirit.
Constillation of rubies, Great Angel’s blood covered her blindingly white wings, horrifically decorated her beautiful face. Painting of gold, white and red, Kassandra Curze saw the world in wide strokes of brush, unable to perceive what she saw before her eyes. Unwilling to perceive. Night Hauntress stood there, staring at Sanguinia’s body, her eyes just gazing in nothingness. She never noticed as her Praetorian sister left, holding the Emperor of Mankind under arms.
Lagging units finally caught up to them, entering the sanctum. Warriors from Regalia’s Fists, their Father’s personal guard, Kassandra’s own Atramaentar.
Why did you come? she wanted to ask, The battle is over.
No one dared to come closer to the Night Hauntress as she froze over the Angel. Only Jago made a few steps, approaching the moveless figure of his Mother. Blood Angels were nowhere to be seen, while sounds of rampaging battle were coming closer to the sanctum.
Sudden scream of agony woke Kassandra from this trance. She turned to see the source of the sound. One man, whose height was so unnaturally smaller than that of super-humans he was surrounded by. Young man’s body twitched and squirmed in pain, as he grasped his head, covering eyes, as if trying not to see, pulling hair, as if trying not to think.
Ah, that mortal Sanguinia fancied, the thought was so mundane, it almost seemed as she simply met him in one of Red Tear’s golden corridors, she called him Dove, as I recall. Why is he weeping?
Figure of similar stature came up to Dove. Morgenstern placed a hand on the grieving man’s shoulder. Impression persisting on the assassin's face was impenetrable, but those standing close to him could notice as knuckles on his hand whitened.
Curze once again turned, returning gaze to her beloved sister. The only sister Kassandra could call beloved, even if she was shrugging, doing so. The only sister she wanted to call sister at all. Night Hauntress lowered herself, coming closer to Angel’s face.
You must be tired, she thought, your battle lasted for too long.
In one swift and tender motion Kassandra closed her sister’s eyes.
Night Hauntress stood up. Only now she noticed another figure lying on the deck. Her other sister sprawled dead in the puddle of liquefied flesh and blood, only her bare skull showing from terminator armor. As she slowly came up to Warmistress’ corpse, Kassandra's blank face finally changed, a mask of utter disdain and rage distorting Night Hauntress’ face. Long seconds passed until she moved again.
Loud crunch filled the sanctum, as Kassandra Curze lowered her boot.
***
“No.”
“Listen, you–”
“Ceremony protocol has already been decided. You’ll be near her as everyone else.”
Why, once in your damned life, why can’t you stop being an accursed wall of rockcreat bricks?! Kassandra Curze wanted to scream on top of her lungs, as she faced Praetorian of Terra. Night Hauntress wanted to strike her sister down right here and there, she wanted to keep punching this dull stone face, until it would turn into a bloody mush.
She could never understand, thought Kassandra bitterly, I doubt she ever tried.
Image of the past, image of Sanguinia, laughing at something that had seemed funny to her in Night Hauntress words, flashed Kassandra’s mind. She lowered her gaze, trying to hold her composure. Not for herself, but for someone who would be greatly disappointed in her, if she didn’t.
“If that’s all you wanted to talk about, then I shall leave”, Regalia turned, starting to walk away, “I have still many things to ate–”
“Wait!” Kassandra growled.
She dashed, catching her sister’s shoulder. Suddenly, an agonizing flash burned her mind. It was the second time her mind was attacked by a vision of a torn off hand, drifting in space among the debris. As Night Hauntress twitched in pain, she grabbed her head pushing nails deep into skin, trying to dull the vision.
Regalia turned back, embers of blazing anger started to appear in her eyes.
“Ngh–” Kassandra slightly groaned, trying to compose herself.
She managed to stand straight and, heavily breathing, looked in Regalia’s eyes.
“Re– Sister, please, it has to be me”, for the first time Unyielding One saw Night Hauntress to plead, and to plead so sincerely.
For some long moments they looked each other in the eyes, but now Regalia’s contained no fire. She saw something new in those purple eyes. Where previously lived only bitter irony and despair, now flickered determination.
Praetorian’s face softened up, enough only for the primarch to notice. Silent nod answered Kassandra’s plea.
***
Holding Angel in her arms, Kassandra Curze stepped into the biggest ceremonial hall on Terra. The biggest that wasn’t ruined by the Siege.
The hall seemed endless, countless caryatids supporting the enormous dome of the building, that became a new sky for all those present here. Images of marble and gold covered walls of the hall, images of the Emperor's most glorious victories, most fruitful of his conquests. Seeing them anywhere her eyes could reach, Kassandra felt sick.
What a jest.
She directed her gaze forward. As endless was this hall, as countless were people present here today. All those who fought and survived the Siege, all those who did not make it on time, standards for all those who fell. From simple guardsman to finest warrior of Adeptus Astartes, all these men and women were here today for the guard of honour. The last guard of honour for her who rested in Kassandra’s arms. Honour that could never be enough.
Complete silence. Complete silence surrounded Night Hauntress as she walked forward, only sounds echoing through the space being her own steps and steps of the two Astartes, Night Lord and Blood Angel, carrying Imperial and Blood Angel’s standards. Kassandra felt as if time slowed down the more steps she took.
As she went closer to the stairs of rockcreat podium, Imperial Guard at her sides changed with space-marine legions. Their halved number still seemed as something surreal to her. Night Hauntress knew her Father’s actions will lead to unspeakable tragedy, but to see it herself was something different.
The last of the Astartes were Blood Angels. Five hundred of the entire legion. All that left after the cursed insanity that consumed them. As Kassandra went past and came up to the stairs, with thunderous sound, five hundred warriors knelt in the final personal sign of honour to their Mother. Two Astartes behind Night Hauntress followed them, staying kneeling at the bottom of podium stairs.
Kassandra made a step up. And then another. As she made more steps up that damned stairs, she felt weaker and weaker, as if life itself was sucked out of her body. She did not understand this. All since the battle on Vengeful Spirit, Night Hauntress felt empty, and now an unfamiliar feeling was filling her, as she looked down at her sister's face.
Her sister was dead.
Kassandra felt a lump forming in her throat. She felt as if any other step she took could be the last before she collapses. But she could not allow herself this.
Fighting herself, Night Hauntress reached the top of the podium. She walked up to the stone bed, covered with finest silks, a red pillow laying on them looked as the softest and the most comfortable thing in the world. Kassandra never noticed other primarchs standing near.
Strength was leaving her, her whole existence trembled as she lowered Angel onto the crimson bed.Kneeling of the countless thousands of people shook the ceremonial hall. Kassandra held out a trembling hand to touch Angel’s face, to get one final moment with her sister.
And then she felt something. Something so familiar. Something so similar to Sanguinia playfully brushing Kassandra’s cheek with her wing, once again annoyed with her sister’s fatalistic nonsense.
Kassandra’s muscles finally gave in to her grief. She collapsed to her knees holding on to red silks.
And then the Dark Queen cried.
2024.05.18 20:07 MisterYouAreSoDumb Study: Acteoside Improves Muscle Atrophy and Motor Function by Inducing New Myokine Secretion in Chronic Spinal Cord Injury
I found a study on acteoside (verbascoside) from Cistanche that is really interesting!
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6599386/
I'll copy the abstract below, and some highlights I found particularly cool.
submitted by MisterYouAreSoDumb to Supplements [link] [comments]
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6599386/
I'll copy the abstract below, and some highlights I found particularly cool.
Chronic spinal cord injury (SCI) is difficult to cure, even by several approaches effective at the acute or subacute phase. We focused on skeletal muscle atrophy as a detrimental factor in chronic SCI and explored drugs that protect against muscle atrophy and activate secretion of axonal growth factors from skeletal muscle. We found that acteoside induced the secretion of axonal growth factors from skeletal muscle cells and proliferation of these cells. Intramuscular injection of acteoside in mice with chronic SCI recovered skeletal muscle weight reduction and motor function impairment. We also identified pyruvate kinase isoform M2 (PKM2) as a secreted factor from skeletal muscle cells, stimulated by acteoside. Extracellular PKM2 enhanced proliferation of skeletal muscle cells and axonal growth in cultured neurons. Further, we showed that PKM2 might cross the blood–brain barrier. These results indicate that effects of acteoside on chronic SCI might be mediated by PKM2 secretion from skeletal muscles. This study proposes that the candidate drug acteoside and a new myokine, PKM2, could be used for the treatment of chronic SCI.
Two major issues in chronic SCI are the untreatable axonal disruption and the severe atrophy of skeletal muscle; our study showed that both may be improved by acteoside, via PKM2 secretion. In this study, we found that acteoside injection into skeletal muscle at the chronic phase of SCI recovers locomotor dysfunction and skeletal muscle atrophy in mice, despite the fact that our contusion model was quite severe; less than grade 2 at 30 days post-injury. A series of similar experiments by our group have shown that acteoside injection, starting at 43 days post-injury, also significantly improves hindlimb motor function (data not shown). Further, acteoside injection enhanced axonal growth in 5-HT–positive cells and synaptogenesis at the caudal side of the lesion center.
Importantly, we showed that acteoside stimulates the secretion of PKM2 from skeletal muscle and that PKM2 promotes proliferation of skeletal muscle cells and axonal growth. Our results indicate that PKM2 is a new myokine that activates skeletal muscle and neurons and that its secretion is enhanced by acteoside stimulation.
Further, we found that PKM2 might cross the BBB and BSCB despite its large molecular weight. After exercise, transcription of several myokines is increased in the brain. However, there is no clear evidence on whether myokines transfer to the brain. PKM2 may be a new type of myokine that reaches the brain and potentially the spinal cord. The advantages and significance of PKM2 penetration in the central nervous system should be clarified in future. The mechanism by which PMK2 crosses the BBB and BSCB might be similar to that in the case of IGF-1 (MW: 8.5 kDa), which crosses the BBB by transcytosis.
acteoside-mediated neuroprotection against amyloid β-induced cell death in PC12 cells is mediated by ERK and PI3K/Akt pathways. In cancer cells, acteoside directly binds to and inhibits protein kinase C. Moreover, binding to and inhibition of caspase-3 of acteoside were found in neurons. In inflammatory cells stimulated with lipopolysaccharide, acteoside promotes nuclear factor κB inhibition. Inhibition of calcium influx by acteoside has also been reported.
In conclusion, we found that acteoside improves skeletal muscle atrophy and locomotor dysfunction caused by chronic SCI, suggesting that it might be a promising therapeutic drug candidate for SCI. We also demonstrated that acteoside promotes the secretion of PKM2 from skeletal muscle cells, and that extracellular PKM2 induces axonal growth in cortical neurons and increases proliferation of skeletal muscle cells. A strategy involving skeletal muscle-mediated therapy is a novel approach for chronic SCI, which might be effective in combination with other treatments.A lot to unpack here, but I will keep it short. This is showing that acteoside (verbascoside) from Cistanche can help improve chronic spinal cord injury, by protecting against muscle atrophy and secreting axonal growth factors. In addition, they found a new myokine called PKM2, or pyruvate kinase isoform M2, which promotes proliferation of skeletal muscle cells and the growth of axons in the brain. It crosses the blood-brain-barrier, potentially in a similar way to IGF-1, or insulin-like growth factor 1. The acteoside from Cistanche stimulates the release of PKM2. This is a really cool new mechanism for Cistanche that I was unaware of. After working on a bunch of different extraction methods, we found that supercritical CO2 was the best way to concentrate the highest amount of acteoside. The more we learn about Cistanche, the cooler of a supplement it becomes!
2024.05.18 19:57 MisterYouAreSoDumb Study: Acteoside Improves Muscle Atrophy and Motor Function by Inducing New Myokine Secretion in Chronic Spinal Cord Injury
We found a study on acteoside (verbascoside) from Cistanche that is really interesting!
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6599386/
I'll copy the abstract below, and some highlights I found particularly cool.
A lot to unpack here, but I will keep it short. This is showing that acteoside (verbascoside) from Cistanche can help improve chronic spinal cord injury, by protecting against muscle atrophy and secreting axonal growth factors. In addition, they found a new myokine called PKM2, or pyruvate kinase isoform M2, which promotes proliferation of skeletal muscle cells and the growth of axons in the brain. It crosses the blood-brain-barrier, potentially in a similar way to IGF-1, or insulin-like growth factor 1. The acteoside from Cistanche stimulates the release of PKM2. This is a really cool new mechanism for Cistanche that we were unaware of. When we worked on our supercritical CO2 Cistanche, we found that extraction type was concentrating acteoside to the highest amount. This mechanism points to the idea that stacking our supercritical CO2 Cistanche with some other products that increase nerve growth factor, like Erinamax and Tiger Milk, could be a super effective stack!
submitted by MisterYouAreSoDumb to NootropicsDepot [link] [comments]
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6599386/
I'll copy the abstract below, and some highlights I found particularly cool.
Chronic spinal cord injury (SCI) is difficult to cure, even by several approaches effective at the acute or subacute phase. We focused on skeletal muscle atrophy as a detrimental factor in chronic SCI and explored drugs that protect against muscle atrophy and activate secretion of axonal growth factors from skeletal muscle. We found that acteoside induced the secretion of axonal growth factors from skeletal muscle cells and proliferation of these cells. Intramuscular injection of acteoside in mice with chronic SCI recovered skeletal muscle weight reduction and motor function impairment. We also identified pyruvate kinase isoform M2 (PKM2) as a secreted factor from skeletal muscle cells, stimulated by acteoside. Extracellular PKM2 enhanced proliferation of skeletal muscle cells and axonal growth in cultured neurons. Further, we showed that PKM2 might cross the blood–brain barrier. These results indicate that effects of acteoside on chronic SCI might be mediated by PKM2 secretion from skeletal muscles. This study proposes that the candidate drug acteoside and a new myokine, PKM2, could be used for the treatment of chronic SCI.
Two major issues in chronic SCI are the untreatable axonal disruption and the severe atrophy of skeletal muscle; our study showed that both may be improved by acteoside, via PKM2 secretion. In this study, we found that acteoside injection into skeletal muscle at the chronic phase of SCI recovers locomotor dysfunction and skeletal muscle atrophy in mice, despite the fact that our contusion model was quite severe; less than grade 2 at 30 days post-injury. A series of similar experiments by our group have shown that acteoside injection, starting at 43 days post-injury, also significantly improves hindlimb motor function (data not shown). Further, acteoside injection enhanced axonal growth in 5-HT–positive cells and synaptogenesis at the caudal side of the lesion center.
Importantly, we showed that acteoside stimulates the secretion of PKM2 from skeletal muscle and that PKM2 promotes proliferation of skeletal muscle cells and axonal growth. Our results indicate that PKM2 is a new myokine that activates skeletal muscle and neurons and that its secretion is enhanced by acteoside stimulation.
Further, we found that PKM2 might cross the BBB and BSCB despite its large molecular weight. After exercise, transcription of several myokines is increased in the brain.17,34 However, there is no clear evidence on whether myokines transfer to the brain. PKM2 may be a new type of myokine that reaches the brain and potentially the spinal cord. The advantages and significance of PKM2 penetration in the central nervous system should be clarified in future. The mechanism by which PMK2 crosses the BBB and BSCB might be similar to that in the case of IGF-1 (MW: 8.5 kDa), which crosses the BBB by transcytosis.
acteoside-mediated neuroprotection against amyloid β-induced cell death in PC12 cells is mediated by ERK and PI3K/Akt pathways.23 In cancer cells, acteoside directly binds to and inhibits protein kinase C.38 Moreover, binding to and inhibition of caspase-3 of acteoside were found in neurons.39 In inflammatory cells stimulated with lipopolysaccharide, acteoside promotes nuclear factor κB inhibition.21 Inhibition of calcium influx by acteoside has also been reported.
In conclusion, we found that acteoside improves skeletal muscle atrophy and locomotor dysfunction caused by chronic SCI, suggesting that it might be a promising therapeutic drug candidate for SCI. We also demonstrated that acteoside promotes the secretion of PKM2 from skeletal muscle cells, and that extracellular PKM2 induces axonal growth in cortical neurons and increases proliferation of skeletal muscle cells (Fig. 10). A strategy involving skeletal muscle-mediated therapy is a novel approach for chronic SCI, which might be effective in combination with other treatments.
A lot to unpack here, but I will keep it short. This is showing that acteoside (verbascoside) from Cistanche can help improve chronic spinal cord injury, by protecting against muscle atrophy and secreting axonal growth factors. In addition, they found a new myokine called PKM2, or pyruvate kinase isoform M2, which promotes proliferation of skeletal muscle cells and the growth of axons in the brain. It crosses the blood-brain-barrier, potentially in a similar way to IGF-1, or insulin-like growth factor 1. The acteoside from Cistanche stimulates the release of PKM2. This is a really cool new mechanism for Cistanche that we were unaware of. When we worked on our supercritical CO2 Cistanche, we found that extraction type was concentrating acteoside to the highest amount. This mechanism points to the idea that stacking our supercritical CO2 Cistanche with some other products that increase nerve growth factor, like Erinamax and Tiger Milk, could be a super effective stack!
2024.05.18 19:48 healthmedicinet Health Daily News May 17 2024
DAY: MAY 17, 2024
- 5-17-2024NEW DATA OUTLINE POSITIVE EFFECTS OF ENDURANCE EXERCISE TRAINING Treadmill training, a form of endurance exercise, was found to be highly effective “with robust improvements in skeletal muscle citrate synthase activity in as little as [one to two] weeks, and improvements in maximum run speed and maximal uptake by [four to eight] weeks.” The full effect of endurance exercise training was previously unexplained until this study. Researchers sought to develop and implement a standardized endurance exercise protocol in more than 340 rats participating in progressive treadmill training five days a week for one, two,
- 5-17-2024CHRONIC PAIN SUPPORT FROM SPOUSE MAY DECREASE WELL-BEING FOR SOME PEOPLE As people age, they often need assistance from their spouse or partner to manage their health problems. Though research has examined the emotional and psychological effects that this support has on the caregiver, less research has been conducted on how it affects care recipients
- 5-17-2024WHEN DEPRESSION MEDS DON’T WORK, THIS MAY HELP YOU TURN THE CORNER Some 30 to 40% of patients do not respond to medications for depression and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), but half of them could be helped by a noninvasive in-office procedure. To mark National Mental Health Awareness Month in May, we talk to psychiatrist Katherine Scangos, M.D., Ph.D., co-director of the Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) and Neuromodulation Program at UC San Francisco. TMS is a logical next step for many patients with an inadequate response to standard
- 5-17-2024CAN OXYTOCIN HELP AGAINST LONELINESS? FINDINGS FROM A RANDOMIZED CONTROLLED TRIAL Loneliness is not a disease. And yet it is a significant health problem. Depression, heart disease or dementia—people who are permanently lonely have a higher risk of becoming ill. The team led by Dr. Jana Lieberz have investigated how loneliness can be specifically combated.
- 5-17-2024STUDY FINDS ANTIOXIDANT DIETARY SUPPLEMENT MAY HELP COUNTER SYSTEMIC SCLEROSIS Oxidative stress is known to exacerbate fibrosis and autoimmunity. In a new study, researchers from Japan have investigated the effects of a dietary antioxidant supplement—Twendee X—on oxidative stress and fibrosis in a mouse model of SSc, an intractable autoimmune disease. Given its effectiveness in other oxidative stress-related diseases including dementia, Twendee X holds the promise of being an effective antioxidant therapeutic against SSc.
- 5-17-2024AUTISTIC PEOPLE’S FEELINGS MOSTLY MISREAD—EMPATHY WORKS BOTH WAYS, RESEARCH REVEALS The idea that autistic people lack empathy is simply short-sighted and non-autistic people may find it just as hard to put themselves in someone else’s shoes, a study suggests. A paper in the journal Autism flips the script on the often-said stereotype that autistic people have difficulty imagining how others feel. Participants shown video clips featuring autistic and non-autistic people retelling emotional events revealed people without autism find it significantly harder to track autistic people’s emotions. It also revealed people felt emotions more intensely in the body
- 5-17-2024STUDY SUGGESTS THAT AIR POLLUTION PROMOTES INFLAMMATION IN THE BRAIN, ACCELERATING CONSEQUENCES FOR DEMENTIA Results from a new study suggest that long-term exposure to air pollution leads to increased risk in dementia in Denmark. “We also find association with noise, but this seems to be explained by air pollution primarily.
- 5-17-2024STUDY SHOWS AEROBIC EXERCISE PERFORMED IN THE EVENING BENEFITS ELDERLY HYPERTENSIVES MORE THAN MORNING EXERCISE Aerobic training is known to regulate blood pressure more effectively when practiced in the evening than in the morning. Researchers who conducted a study of elderly patients at the University of São Paulo’s School of Physical Education and Sports (EEFE-USP) in Brazil concluded that evening exercise is better for blood pressure regulation thanks to improved cardiovascular control by the autonomic nervous system via a mechanism known as baroreflex sensitivity.
- 5-17-2024A LONG-TERM KETOGENIC DIET ACCUMULATES AGED CELLS IN NORMAL TISSUES, NEW STUDY SHOWS A strict “keto-friendly” diet popular for weight loss and diabetes, depending on both the diet and individual, might not be all that friendly. A new study led by researchers at The University of Texas Health Science Center at San Antonio (UT Health San Antonio) found that a continuous long-term ketogenic diet may induce senescence, or aged, cells in normal tissues, with effects on heart and kidney function in particular.
- 5-17-2024US TEEN DIED AFTER DOING SPICY CHIP CHALLENGE: AUTOPSY A US teenager died of cardiac arrest after taking part in a social media challenge daring people to eat a single extremely hot tortilla chip, an autopsy revealed Thursday. Harris Wolobah, a 14-year-old from Massachusetts, died in September after taking part in the so-called “One Chip Challenge”—which involved a single chip produced by Paqui, dusted with Carolina Reaper and Naga Viper peppers. The dare has manifested in several iterations over the years, with the peppers changing each time. The local chief medical examiner determined that Harris died of cardiac arrest
- 5-17-2024IS YOUR CHILD READY FOR SUMMER SLEEPAWAY CAMP? Sleepaway camp can be a lot of fun for kids, but only if they’re ready for the experience. And that’s the tough part—figuring out as a parent when a child is ready to stay away from home, and what they’ll need while they’re at camp, said Dr. Laurel Williams, a professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston. A child who can stay one night away from their family might be ready for camp
- 5-17-2024FDA APPROVES NEW DRUG FOR DEADLY LUNG CANCER
- 5-17-2024ANTI-DIABETIC TREATMENT ASSOCIATED WITH REDUCED RISK OF DEVELOPING BLOOD CANCER
- 5-17-2024HOW THE DANGEROUS LIVER DISEASE SPREADS AND HOW IT CAN BE TREATED Hepatitis is an inflammation of the liver. It is the way the liver responds to various injuries or harmful agents.
- 5-17-2024CLINICIANS REPORT SUCCESS WITH FIRST TEST OF DRUG IN A PATIENT WITH LIFE-THREATENING BLOOD CLOTTING DISORDER
- 5-17-2024RESEARCH TEAM DEVELOPS NEW AI TOOL TO HELP CLASSIFY BRAIN TUMORS
- 5-17-2024ENGLISH FISHING VILLAGE TOLD TO BOIL WATER AFTER A PARASITE OUTBREAK SICKENS OVER 45 PEOPLE
- 5-17-2024TICK SEASON HAS ARRIVED. PROTECT YOURSELF WITH THESE TIPS
- 5-17-2024ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE AND THE FUTURE OF SURGERY
- 5-17-2024RESEARCHER DISCOVERS DRUG THAT MAY DELAY ONSET OF ALZHEIMER’S, PARKINSON’S DISEASE AND TREAT HYDROCEPHALUS
- 5-17-2024KEY PROTEIN BEHIND BRAIN ASYMMETRY UNCOVERED BY SCIENTISTS
- 5-17-2024CELL TYPES AND MOLECULES USUALLY ASSOCIATED WITH AUTOIMMUNE DISEASES FOUND TO BE NORMAL COMPONENTS OF GUT IMMUNITY
- 5-17-2024RESEARCHERS REVEAL MOLECULAR MECHANISMS OF DIFFERENT DONOR ARTERIES FOR CORONARY ARTERY BYPASS GRAFTING
- 5-17-2024LIMITING CERTAIN LIGHT EXPOSURE HAS POTENTIAL TO PREVENT INHERITED RETINAL DYSTROPHY
- 5-17-2024STUDY REVEALS THAT THE BRAIN MODULATES VISUAL SIGNALS ACCORDING TO INTERNAL STATES
- 5-17-2024RESEARCHERS MAKE STRIDES IN MICROBIOME-BASED CANCER THERAPIES VIA IRON DEPRIVATION IN THE TUMOR MICROENVIRONMENT
- 5-17-2024STUDY OPENS THE DOOR TO DESIGNING THERAPIES TO IMPROVE LUNG DEVELOPMENT IN GROWTH-RESTRICTED FETUSES
- 5-17-2024WASTEWATER REVEALS SOCIOECONOMIC LINK TO ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION
- 5-17-2024A MULTIFACED BRAIN MAP OF RHESUS MONKEY
- 5-17-2024MORE LEPTOSPIROSIS CASES OCCUR AFTER FLOODS, STUDY SHOWS
- 5-17-2024RESEARCH FINDS THE PROTEIN VISTA DIRECTLY BLOCKS T CELLS FROM FUNCTIONING IN IMMUNOTHERAPY
- 5-17-2024GUT BACTERIA ENHANCE CANCER IMMUNOTHERAPY IN MOUSE STUDY
- 5-17-2024NEW IMAGING SOFTWARE IMPROVES LUNG DIAGNOSIS FOR 30% OF PATIENTS WHO CAN’T TOLERATE CONTRAST DYE
- 5-17-2024BLACK ADULTS AT RISK FOR ALZHEIMER’S DISEASE LIVE IN MORE POLLUTED AREAS, STUDY FINDS
- 5-17-2024STUDY SUGGESTS CHRONIC WASTING DISEASE UNLIKELY TO MOVE FROM ANIMALS TO PEOPLE
- 5-17-2024BARRETT’S ESOPHAGUS PRECEDES ESOPHAGEAL CANCER, BUT NOT ALL PATIENTS NEED ABNORMAL CELL REMOVAL
- 5-17-2024THE NEURAL SIGNATURE OF SUBJECTIVE DISGUST COULD APPLY TO BOTH SENSORY AND SOCIO-MORAL EXPERIENCES
- 5-17-2024NEW BLOOD TEST FOR STROKE DETECTION COMBINES BLOOD-BASED BIOMARKERS WITH A CLINICAL SCORE
- 5-17-2024WEB-BASED SELF-HELP INTERVENTION FOUND TO BE BENEFICIAL FOR BINGE EATING DISORDER
- 5-17-2024MARYLAND GOV. WES MOORE SIGNS BILL REQUIRING MENTAL HEALTH TRAINING FOR PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL, COLLEGE COACHES
- 5-17-2024NEW TECHNIQUE TO FREEZE BRAIN TISSUE WITHOUT HARM
- 5-17-2024STUDY UNCOVERS KEY FACTORS FOR RESILIENCE AFTER TRAUMA
- 5-17-2024SCAFFOLDING SENSORS DETECT EARLY EVIDENCE OF ORGAN TRANSPLANT REJECTIONS IN MICE
- 5-17-2024NOVEL GENETIC MECHANISMS MAY SERVE AS THERAPEUTIC TARGET AGAINST GLIOMA
- 5-17-2024LINK BETWEEN E-CIGARETTE USE AND EARLY AGE OF ASTHMA ONSET IN US ADULTS DISCOVERED
- 5-17-2024RESEARCHERS IDENTIFY IMPACTS OF RUSSIA-UKRAINE WAR ON HEALTH CARE SYSTEMS IMPACTED BY COMBAT
- 5-17-2024TRIAL HIV VACCINE TRIGGERS ELUSIVE AND ESSENTIAL ANTIBODIES, POINTING THE WAY TOWARD A SUCCESSFUL VACCINE
- 5-17-2024HOW THE DANGEROUS LIVER DISEASE SPREADS AND HOW IT CAN BE TREATED
- 5-17-2024NEW DATA OUTLINE POSITIVE EFFECTS OF ENDURANCE EXERCISE TRAINING
- 5-17-2024CHRONIC PAIN SUPPORT FROM SPOUSE MAY DECREASE WELL-BEING FOR SOME PEOPLE
- 5-17-2024WHEN DEPRESSION MEDS DON’T WORK, THIS MAY HELP YOU TURN THE CORNER
- 5-17-2024CAN OXYTOCIN HELP AGAINST LONELINESS? FINDINGS FROM A RANDOMIZED CONTROLLED TRIAL
- 5-17-2024STUDY FINDS ANTIOXIDANT DIETARY SUPPLEMENT MAY HELP COUNTER SYSTEMIC SCLEROSIS
- 5-17-2024AUTISTIC PEOPLE’S FEELINGS MOSTLY MISREAD—EMPATHY WORKS BOTH WAYS, RESEARCH REVEALS
- 5-17-2024STUDY SUGGESTS THAT AIR POLLUTION PROMOTES INFLAMMATION IN THE BRAIN, ACCELERATING CONSEQUENCES FOR DEMENTIA
- 5-17-2024STUDY SHOWS AEROBIC EXERCISE PERFORMED IN THE EVENING BENEFITS ELDERLY HYPERTENSIVES MORE THAN MORNING EXERCISE
- 5-17-2024A LONG-TERM KETOGENIC DIET ACCUMULATES AGED CELLS IN NORMAL TISSUES, NEW STUDY SHOWS
- 5-17-2024US TEEN DIED AFTER DOING SPICY CHIP CHALLENGE: AUTOPSY
- 5-17-2024IS YOUR CHILD READY FOR SUMMER SLEEPAWAY CAMP?
- 5-17-2024FDA APPROVES NEW DRUG FOR DEADLY LUNG CANCER
- 5-17-2024ANTI-DIABETIC TREATMENT ASSOCIATED WITH REDUCED RISK OF DEVELOPING BLOOD CANCER
- 5-17-2024CLINICIANS REPORT SUCCESS WITH FIRST TEST OF DRUG IN A PATIENT WITH LIFE-THREATENING BLOOD CLOTTING DISORDER
- 5-17-2024RESEARCH TEAM DEVELOPS NEW AI TOOL TO HELP CLASSIFY BRAIN TUMORS
- 5-17-2024ENGLISH FISHING VILLAGE TOLD TO BOIL WATER AFTER A PARASITE OUTBREAK SICKENS OVER 45 PEOPLE
- 5-17-2024TICK SEASON HAS ARRIVED. PROTECT YOURSELF WITH THESE TIPS
- 5-17-2024ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE AND THE FUTURE OF SURGERY
- 5-17-2024RESEARCHER DISCOVERS DRUG THAT MAY DELAY ONSET OF ALZHEIMER’S, PARKINSON’S DISEASE AND TREAT HYDROCEPHALUS
- 5-17-2024KEY PROTEIN BEHIND BRAIN ASYMMETRY UNCOVERED BY SCIENTISTS
- 5-17-2024CELL TYPES AND MOLECULES USUALLY ASSOCIATED WITH AUTOIMMUNE DISEASES FOUND TO BE NORMAL COMPONENTS OF GUT IMMUNITY
- 5-17-2024RESEARCHERS REVEAL MOLECULAR MECHANISMS OF DIFFERENT DONOR ARTERIES FOR CORONARY ARTERY BYPASS GRAFTING
- 5-17-2024LIMITING CERTAIN LIGHT EXPOSURE HAS POTENTIAL TO PREVENT INHERITED RETINAL DYSTROPHY
- 5-17-2024STUDY REVEALS THAT THE BRAIN MODULATES VISUAL SIGNALS ACCORDING TO INTERNAL STATES
- 5-17-2024RESEARCHERS MAKE STRIDES IN MICROBIOME-BASED CANCER THERAPIES VIA IRON DEPRIVATION IN THE TUMOR MICROENVIRONMENT
- 5-17-2024STUDY OPENS THE DOOR TO DESIGNING THERAPIES TO IMPROVE LUNG DEVELOPMENT IN GROWTH-RESTRICTED FETUSES
- 5-17-2024WASTEWATER REVEALS SOCIOECONOMIC LINK TO ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION
- 5-17-2024A MULTIFACED BRAIN MAP OF RHESUS MONKEY
- 5-17-2024MORE LEPTOSPIROSIS CASES OCCUR AFTER FLOODS, STUDY SHOWS
- 5-17-2024RESEARCH FINDS THE PROTEIN VISTA DIRECTLY BLOCKS T CELLS FROM FUNCTIONING IN IMMUNOTHERAPY
- 5-17-2024GUT BACTERIA ENHANCE CANCER IMMUNOTHERAPY IN MOUSE STUDY
- 5-17-2024NEW IMAGING SOFTWARE IMPROVES LUNG DIAGNOSIS FOR 30% OF PATIENTS WHO CAN’T TOLERATE CONTRAST DYE
- 5-17-2024BLACK ADULTS AT RISK FOR ALZHEIMER’S DISEASE LIVE IN MORE POLLUTED AREAS, STUDY FINDS
- 5-17-2024STUDY SUGGESTS CHRONIC WASTING DISEASE UNLIKELY TO MOVE FROM ANIMALS TO PEOPLE
- 5-17-2024BARRETT’S ESOPHAGUS PRECEDES ESOPHAGEAL CANCER, BUT NOT ALL PATIENTS NEED ABNORMAL CELL REMOVAL
- 5-17-2024THE NEURAL SIGNATURE OF SUBJECTIVE DISGUST COULD APPLY TO BOTH SENSORY AND SOCIO-MORAL EXPERIENCES
- 5-17-2024NEW BLOOD TEST FOR STROKE DETECTION COMBINES BLOOD-BASED BIOMARKERS WITH A CLINICAL SCORE
- 5-17-2024WEB-BASED SELF-HELP INTERVENTION FOUND TO BE BENEFICIAL FOR BINGE EATING DISORDER
- 5-17-2024MARYLAND GOV. WES MOORE SIGNS BILL REQUIRING MENTAL HEALTH TRAINING FOR PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL, COLLEGE COACHES
- 5-17-2024NEW TECHNIQUE TO FREEZE BRAIN TISSUE WITHOUT HARM
- 5-17-2024STUDY UNCOVERS KEY FACTORS FOR RESILIENCE AFTER TRAUMA
- 5-17-2024SCAFFOLDING SENSORS DETECT EARLY EVIDENCE OF ORGAN TRANSPLANT REJECTIONS IN MICE
- 5-17-2024NOVEL GENETIC MECHANISMS MAY SERVE AS THERAPEUTIC TARGET AGAINST GLIOMA
- 5-17-2024LINK BETWEEN E-CIGARETTE USE AND EARLY AGE OF ASTHMA ONSET IN US ADULTS DISCOVERED
- 5-17-2024RESEARCHERS IDENTIFY IMPACTS OF RUSSIA-UKRAINE WAR ON HEALTH CARE SYSTEMS IMPACTED BY COMBAT
- 5-17-2024TRIAL HIV VACCINE TRIGGERS ELUSIVE AND ESSENTIAL ANTIBODIES, POINTING THE WAY TOWARD A SUCCESSFUL VACCINE
2024.05.18 18:22 Edwardthecrazyman Burning Bodies and Victory! [14]
First/Previous
Satan was on the air, on the night, within everything in the long shadows cast by the setting sun and with him came a chill to the air that I could never hope to internalize; it might kill me.
From a rotted abode across the street, I watched the large outbuilding and the field in which we’d buried the hand and I found myself in prayer—among the torn and exposed studs of dry-rotted wood and rusted metal I caught my own whispers and forced myself to stop like I intended to convene with God right there in the dark; I wasn’t there for Allah. It was something else that compelled me there. I whispered the prayer and felt foolish at my own voice and ducked lowly among the rubble and held my breath to watch the sunlight go from the land and in a blink, the light was gone, and I was there in darkness that at first was a terror and then I slipped into it through blinks and the surroundings became clearer even in the dark.
Time went on.
I was exposed, but the yougins were safe—Trouble too. If nothing else mattered in the world, then they should go on without me. It had come to me so suddenly (maybe it was the prayer that withdrew such a sentimentality) that I liked them okay.
Before anything else, a cat’s hiss came so faintly that I plugged my ear with my pinky, shook it and listened again; the noise grew closer, and I could do nothing but watch the field and squint in the darkness and wait.
Fumbling, I counted the glass containers with touch only—two in my jacket pocket and the third by my feet—and my fingers then danced to the threadbare strap of the shotgun on my shoulder; I shed my pack for mobility.
The domineering creature lurched forcefully from the shadows and then went on display in the moonlight properly and its arched back protruded even over its own head till it lifted that muzzle, so its rattish face was cut out in a black outline; it was sniffing, and the hiss came through the air again. The Alukah kept a serpentine strut, smoothly gliding across the ground as it used its hands like forelegs to press its snout against the ground. In watching, I consciously relaxed my shoulders and refrained from biting my teeth together. That creature found the spot it had been searching for—it seemed roughly the place we’d buried the hand—and it took its claws there with bestial shovelfuls.
In a hurry, I gathered the jar I’d placed by my feet—it would not slide so gracefully into my jacket as the others—and as quietly as I could, I slinked around the rubble, through two studs, and onto the dirt. Within milliseconds, my own heartbeat pounded all over my body and I stood in the street and lit the Molotov cocktail with a lighter and took closer to the creature.
It shifted around and in that moment I wished I had a light source powerful enough to expose its body; I tossed the cocktail in a high arch and it exploded in a moment by the creature’s feet as it stood and pivoted to look at me fully; its solid white eyes were wide in a glance of moon-shine and it slung itself from the eruption of flames around its feet with violent speed. Its black hair hung down the sides of its face and its head parted midway to expose a snarl. It stalked in a circle around the concentration of flames, remaining mostly in the dark; the thing moved slowly nearer, those long arms swaying in front of itself with each step.
You should know better. It stopped midstride, coming no closer and we each stood there in the field roughly thirty feet from one another, and I refused to take my eyes from it. The boy’s mine. The flames began to flicker and die. For how long we stood like that, I couldn’t say, and I waited.
I couldn’t find a voice till it was all dark again, besides the moon and stars. “Why can’t you leave us be? There’s easier pickins.”
You offer yourself too much credit, Harlan. We remained in silence and in the darkness the creature may have been a statue—in a blink it seemed as much. You are a corpse, no? A walking corpse of a man! A terrible sickness is in you. I know it. I see it on you as plainly as I see your fear.
Rigidity took over my body and I puffed my chest out like it meant something and I shook my head, “I’m not afraid.”
Not of me, no. Of yourself? Something. The voice lingered with the ends of its words, drawing them out first guttural then it left them on hisses. Something I know.
I lit the next Molotov, and the creature didn’t move; I threw the bottle furiously and it went into the darkness like a far candleflame till it erupted in the spot the Alukah had been standing—the thing had leapt from there, leaving me unawares and I lowered myself to the ground in a crouch, swiveling my head around to catch the thing in the dark. The flames on the ground danced brightly, leaving me light-blinded.
Not again, said the thing, You will not catch me so easily with fire again. It was behind me, nearer the outbuilding and it took a moment through blinks for my eyesight to return well enough to see the grotesqueness of the misshapen massive humanoid thing.
The Molotov explosion burned then disappeared and we stood looking at one another again and I felt silly, foolish, radically unprepared, and overwhelmingly trivial in the grand scheme of the universe—if it wanted to, it could leap the distance between us and rip me to shreds. Why didn’t it kill me? Why wasn’t I dead?
That damnable night creature extended one of its massive forehands, flexing the digits on the end of its arm and whispered its words like a plea, The boy, Harlan. That is all. Take that brimstone smelly girl and carry that shell of a body—walk on to whatever hole you humans call home.
Hoping to not draw a movement from the creature, I pressed my forearm against my ribcage, feeling the last Molotov that was there in the inner pocket and I gently slid the strap from my shoulder, and held my shotgun in both hands, licking my dry lips, watching the dark frame of the Alukah, fearing even a moment of distraction; my eyes locked on the creature and I refused to speak.
No deal then. It wasn’t a question; its rattish snout offered a mild nod of understanding. You despise a good sense of words.
I readied the shotgun, legs spaced in proper formation—looking down the barrel, I held my breath and upon squeezing the trigger, the thing knocked into my shoulder, but the creature was gone. In scanning, I found the thing had moved from the field and bounded wildly across the street towards the dead ruins of Annapolis, its muscular limbs made short work of fleeing.
The outbuilding remained quiet and erectly tall, and I moved to its shadow and cussed whispers for wasting ammunition. Only three shells remained; worse, I’d wasted two of my explosives. I watched the horizon in the opposite direction of the crowded foundations of Annapolis and carefully held my breath in watching and I prayed again, hoping that the commotion would not draw attention.
An overwhelming sense of foolishness welled in my guts, and I trotted off towards the direction I’d watched the Alukah go, through the ramshackle streets haphazardly.
The darkness was maddeningly empty, so I filled it with shouts, “C’mon! This is your turf, ain’t it? This darkness is yours so come and take me if you can!” Rusty as I was, I held the shotgun like never before, squinting my eyes, keeping my pace in unison with my heartbeat. There’s a place in that darkness that is beyond reproach, beyond the comprehension of a city dweller, beyond even my own understanding and I found myself padding through those streets at an accelerated rate, hopeful to confront the demon and I only found more dead and vacant lots and I crossed more than two intersections where the signs were either gone or indecipherable in the black shadows cast there. I wished for a payback of the demon’s hunt or perhaps I wished for something even more than that—what did I need to prove and to who? “You sick and twisted and foul beast!” I went so loud I continued to hoarseness, “Slimy fuck!” I’s so mad that spit came with the words too.
Still, there was nothing and I came to a final crossroads, a place more commercial—at least for a flatland dead town—where brick storefronts half-stood on those four corners. Finding my voice again, I continued my tirade, cursing the demon, “Come get some—c’mon already! Here’s your fight?” I was scared though.
A sudden noise from the dilapidated storefront to my left startled me to pivot and watch, gun pulled up, and I focused as hard as I could on the recesses of that shadowed place; it was a large antiquated face where a window might have sat many years prior. Wet and hungry sounds emanated from that place, the disgusting noises of a fiend—even in knowing it, I was surprised in seeing the new creature spill out in a lumpish mess of slickened muscles, lubricated, its innumerable arms and legs clawed its own body forward so that it rolled like a mushy ball—each of those limbs remained human in nature. Upon the thing pulling itself onto the street, I staggered backwards, gun still raised, and watched its form take a modicum of understanding in the moonlight; its mouths—sporadically, illogically placed over its mass of a body—opened and seemed to try and speak with each one merely letting go of meekly audible, painful sighs in doing so. The eyes, spaced much the same as the mouths, blinked and rolled as if it was torture for the thing to live. The mutant was a tongue-like mass at its center, and it was almost the size of a horse—I’d seen fiends grow much larger, but this was still a great threat.
In moving away from where it spilled onto the street, I stumbled backwards and caught myself on the backfoot and clumsily spun into a sprint; my boots pounded in my flight from the thing, and it chased after.
Its mouths exhausted terrible sighs as it gained speed in the relative openness of the street and in seconds, I would not have been surprised if the thing snatched me by an ankle and devoured me without thought—not that fiends had any other thoughts above the basest urge to consume.
The pursuit kept me going in the dark, watching the still shadows of the dilapidated housing and I pushed on until I tasted copper; my breathing went raspy—it’d been so long since I’d been forced to run from such a creature in the open. I took a glance back and saw it coming, gaining speed in its perpetual roll; its body excreted some fluid across itself so that it could glide more easily.
Coming to a crossroads I’d passed earlier, or perhaps it was a new one—I couldn’t fathom in the dark—I took in the direction of what I thought was south and ran full throttle; my knees ached.
In hoping to confuse the mutant, I quickly dove towards the right side of the southbound street, towards some ramshackle, through the skeletal framing of a skinless house without a roof; I pushed through the pencil-narrow vertical beams and stumbled through, landing onto the unseen ground on the other side. My left leg spasmed and in the millisecond that it took for my nerves to register the pain, I let out a mild, “Oh.” I tried to lift myself from the spot and found that my left leg refused to bend straight; in total horror—more so from my body failing than the mutant—I swiveled my torso around and scooted on my rear across the ground, raking myself in the opposite direction of the fiend.
The mutant slammed into the frame; its many arms reached through the bars and in a moment, it began to use its hands to lift itself along the exposed wall and I scooted further away till my back met the bars of where an opposite wall would’ve gone. In a scramble, I snatched the shotgun, pushed myself sniff against the bars on my side and watched the thing down the barrel; I waited and concentrated on my own breathing. If nothing else worked, I still had that Molotov—if not for it then for me.
As it crested the top of the wall made of bars, I watched patiently and only when I was certain I fired.
The mutant, the great meatball-thing that it was, lost its grasp for a moment and slipped onto the arrangement of vertical bars; I gush of liquid, illuminated in starlight, shot from its base of its soft body; it began to try and catch its grasp on the bars and I took a moment for myself to examine my left knee—I pulled it as close to my face as I could manage which was hardly at all—some black triangular mass had lodged itself into my flesh; more accurately, I’d slammed myself onto something sharp in my panic to flee the fiend. In a second, not thinking of the repercussions, I gripped the thing with my left hand and clamped my mouth onto my right hand, biting into fat of my hand by the thumb. The debris was free from my leg, and I let it to fall to the ground; blood ran freely into my mouth and I let go of the bite and tentatively lifted the gun again, ignoring the pain; the creature continued to struggle, and I fired again. It slipped again, further impaling itself on the bars.
I had one shell left.
Using the place I’d propped my back, I pushed free from the ground and put all my weight onto my right leg, testing the left; I staggered—hopped really—around in the small square of ground surrounded by metal framing and searched the ground for something long. I unearthed the dirt around my feet and found a long piece of metal rod; setting the gun to the side, I lifted the metal rod over my head and then slowly arched it out from my body. It would give me just enough room to further injure the thing while also staying well out of its grasp.
I swung the makeshift weapon down like a bat or a sword and the fiend slid a little further down the bars, the exit wounds began to show across the top of its roundish body, and I smacked it again—its mouths spoke words that could nearly be understood. Though it took only moments, I was thoroughly exhausted by the time the creature had reached the ground again, good and dead and impaled upon six of those vertical bars. I tossed the weapon to the ground, lifted my gun, and shimmied through the bars on the opposite side of the square.
Adrenaline only lasts so long, and my left leg throbbed to the point of nausea; I did not want to inspect the wound, but on rounding the ramshackle and watching the still dead thing, I stumbled into the street and knelt and lifted my pant leg. It was dark and bloody and already it was burning. Infection was my first thought. A puncture wound could spell a terrible fate. I shifted to sit in the street. My leg didn’t bend right.
The cat’s hiss came from the darkness and there wasn’t a way I could respond in time; I felt those long nasty fingers grab me by the back of my neck and I was lifted immediately from the ground—the gun clattered to the ground and all I could do was initially freeze and stiffen and then my hands moved to the grasp which held me firmly by the throat; those massive knuckles were like stones.
The Alukah had me and situated me so that it could look into my face, its long black hair hid its eyes but I could smell its breath and see its teeth which rested in its round mouth. I could snap you. It seemed to nod its head, but to detect humanity in that damnable pale face was a mistake.
I choked.
What’s that? It relaxed its grasp on my throat.
“Do it.”
Why’re you crying? Its foot brushed against the gun at its feet, and it lifted it with its free hand, and it commented casually, Little human toy.
It moved, holding me by the throat, dragging me along the ground in an abnormal sluggish gait. It was hard to see anything but the night sky, anything but the strange angle of the demon—with its grip, it was hard to breathe, and tears indeed welled in my eyes, and I held to its forearm to distribute some of the weight of my own body away from my neck. With its tugging, I could not speak, but it spoke.
I’ll squeeze you dry, but your blood’s too tainted to drink. That won’t make it any less interesting. I’ll twist you like a rag and see which hole it comes from first. More than that, you’ll scream. You’ll scream so loud everyone will know. Everyone will know what I’ve done to you—once you’re no more than ruin. Not even Mephisto would balk at my handiwork once I’ve had my time with you. God will look on your sour corpse with so much disgust there won’t be a place for you anywhere. Only Oblivion, a place worse than any.
The creature moved us to the open field, tilted its head back and forth, rose its rattish face to the sky and snorted and then clearly sniffed, dropping the gun to its feet to brush the long black hair from its eyes; its muscular body shone in the moonlight so that even its bluish veins stood plainly from its white skin. It shifted its gaze to the outbuilding—maybe fifty yards away—where the youngins were hidden.
Deftly, the thing lifted me from where it had kept me by its side and my feet levitated over the air, I felt feet taller, suspended from that long arm the way I was. It took its free hand to my midsection and I felt the digits of its hand squeeze my ribs and it let go of my throat and I coughed and wheezed, placing my hands on its fingers to dig into that thing’s skin—it didn’t matter—in seconds, a scream escaped my rattling throat; it squeezed more and I felt the glass bottle in my jacket burst from the force then the Alukah gave relief and I tried to gulp air, but felt pangs along my body. My jacket was wetted from blood by the broken bottle shards entering my body or from the contents of the bottle or both.
Urine? It pulled me close to itself, sniffed, and shook its head. Oil? it cackled, Again! Beg for the help you do not deserve! It held me outright once more.
Again, the great hand constricted me and again I could not help but to let out a scream—my lungs were on fire, my voice stretched like a dying animal. I heard barks and saw nothing through wild choking tears. The grip softened.
I coughed more and tried to speak; the Alukah brought me close to itself as if to wait and listen to what I had to say. Weeping words fell out in a whisper, “Kill me. Do it. I don’t mind.”
Another sharp laugh exited the thing’s throat and it squeezed again, facing me out so that I could look at the black outline of the outbuilding. I heard the barking again and I saw the figures stumble out from the sidelong face of the outbuilding. I blinked to remove the tears.
A voice, neither mine nor the demon’s, shouted an attempt at authority, “Let him go!” It was Gemma. They rounded the building so that moonlight removed them from obscurity. Gemma held Trouble on a lead while Andrew followed.
Trouble growled.
The smile was audible through the Alukah’s voice, Strong words for one so dainty. I felt its grip tighten and I chuffed and couldn’t manage a word.
“Get it!” shouted Gemma; she let go of Trouble’s lead and the dog looked curiously at me and the demon where we were and tucked its tail and circled to hide behind the children.
The Alukah laughed. Scary dog.
I was lightheaded while my vision went; I should die—I’d bleed out there or some unknown medical oddity would shut me off. Perhaps I’d will myself to death. My head nodded tiredly, and I fought it, blinking, shaking my head to maintain my eyes.
“You want me?” The boy took a few steps forward and his voice cracked. “We could make a deal.”
The Alukah lowered me so that my feet skimmed the ground but shifted to keep a tight hold around only my throat. Oh?
“What are you doing?” shouted Gemma; she closed the space between herself and Andrew and shoved him.
He shoved her back. “Me for him,” he addressed the demon.
Is that the deal?
Everything in my body protested while I reached for the jean pocket on my right side; I could not reach it. I stretched and my ribs screamed in pain—it was worse than bruising. The demon did not notice me moving. Maybe because my movements were weak, subtle. I tried again while mentally asking God for help and I came short of the pocket. I cursed Him and then my shaking fingers found the pocket. I withdrew the lighter there.
“That’s right,” said Andrew.
“No, he won’t,” Gemma’s voice was aflame.
It’s not your deal to make, girly.
I took the lighter to my jacket, lit it, and the flames grew around me in a flash, feeding on the oil.
The Alukah hissed, attempted to unwrap its hand from around me while I dug into its forearm with two claws and bit onto the thing’s hand for extra purchase. It swung me around and my legs flew limply. It took every bit of strength I had.
Let go! The Alukah shrieked.
Trouble barked, the children screamed, and I bit deeper till that thick black blood filled my mouth. The flames were immaculate, cleansing, more furious than I could’ve imagined. Not for life—that’s not why I held on so strongly—it was for them, for Andrew and Gemma. Me and that creature should’ve burned together. Fitting.
Delirium took over and I swiveled overhead in the demon’s tantrum, holding onto that arm. The Alukah hissed, roared, shouted nasty epithets.
The gunshot rang out and I met ground, hard.
Exhaustion or death could’ve taken me then, but it was the former.
When consciousness came again, it was hands, smacking hands that brought me to life—then the vague smell of burnt hair, cooked flesh. My body stung and I could not move but to lift my face from the dirt where I lay belly-flat.
“You almost died,” said Gemma somewhere between hope and sorrow, “You almost killed yourself!” She shook me and shoved me hard enough so that I rolled on my back. She’d been crying, but surely, we’d won. What was there to cry for? If we’d lost, she wouldn’t be talking at all.
She left me and I stared at the sky through slits. The sun was coming but I couldn’t feel the warmth; I couldn’t feel anything (that would be a sweet memory in the time to come). It was quiet save the crackling I heard; it was like the lowness of a dying fire. It wasn’t me? I wasn’t on fire?
When she returned, she lifted my head to place my pack underneath it; it elevated my vision. I surveyed my surroundings. The outbuilding was there and the Alukah lay on the ground perhaps ten feet from me; its body charred and sizzled and caught little flames in response to the cresting sunrise; everything was a daze—we’d won.
Gemma’s eyes glittered, and she called the dog over and the dog sniffed my face and the girl’s lips remained flat, expressionless.
I saw the boy’s body—it lay motionless alongside the dead Alukah and alongside that body was my shotgun. The body’s head sat on its side, disconnected from its owner, facing away from where I lay.
“He killed it. He shot it.” Gemma sat beside me, and Trouble placed her snout on the girl’s shoulder. “We’re going to die,” she nodded.
First/Previous
Archive
submitted by Edwardthecrazyman to cryosleep [link] [comments]
Satan was on the air, on the night, within everything in the long shadows cast by the setting sun and with him came a chill to the air that I could never hope to internalize; it might kill me.
From a rotted abode across the street, I watched the large outbuilding and the field in which we’d buried the hand and I found myself in prayer—among the torn and exposed studs of dry-rotted wood and rusted metal I caught my own whispers and forced myself to stop like I intended to convene with God right there in the dark; I wasn’t there for Allah. It was something else that compelled me there. I whispered the prayer and felt foolish at my own voice and ducked lowly among the rubble and held my breath to watch the sunlight go from the land and in a blink, the light was gone, and I was there in darkness that at first was a terror and then I slipped into it through blinks and the surroundings became clearer even in the dark.
Time went on.
I was exposed, but the yougins were safe—Trouble too. If nothing else mattered in the world, then they should go on without me. It had come to me so suddenly (maybe it was the prayer that withdrew such a sentimentality) that I liked them okay.
Before anything else, a cat’s hiss came so faintly that I plugged my ear with my pinky, shook it and listened again; the noise grew closer, and I could do nothing but watch the field and squint in the darkness and wait.
Fumbling, I counted the glass containers with touch only—two in my jacket pocket and the third by my feet—and my fingers then danced to the threadbare strap of the shotgun on my shoulder; I shed my pack for mobility.
The domineering creature lurched forcefully from the shadows and then went on display in the moonlight properly and its arched back protruded even over its own head till it lifted that muzzle, so its rattish face was cut out in a black outline; it was sniffing, and the hiss came through the air again. The Alukah kept a serpentine strut, smoothly gliding across the ground as it used its hands like forelegs to press its snout against the ground. In watching, I consciously relaxed my shoulders and refrained from biting my teeth together. That creature found the spot it had been searching for—it seemed roughly the place we’d buried the hand—and it took its claws there with bestial shovelfuls.
In a hurry, I gathered the jar I’d placed by my feet—it would not slide so gracefully into my jacket as the others—and as quietly as I could, I slinked around the rubble, through two studs, and onto the dirt. Within milliseconds, my own heartbeat pounded all over my body and I stood in the street and lit the Molotov cocktail with a lighter and took closer to the creature.
It shifted around and in that moment I wished I had a light source powerful enough to expose its body; I tossed the cocktail in a high arch and it exploded in a moment by the creature’s feet as it stood and pivoted to look at me fully; its solid white eyes were wide in a glance of moon-shine and it slung itself from the eruption of flames around its feet with violent speed. Its black hair hung down the sides of its face and its head parted midway to expose a snarl. It stalked in a circle around the concentration of flames, remaining mostly in the dark; the thing moved slowly nearer, those long arms swaying in front of itself with each step.
You should know better. It stopped midstride, coming no closer and we each stood there in the field roughly thirty feet from one another, and I refused to take my eyes from it. The boy’s mine. The flames began to flicker and die. For how long we stood like that, I couldn’t say, and I waited.
I couldn’t find a voice till it was all dark again, besides the moon and stars. “Why can’t you leave us be? There’s easier pickins.”
You offer yourself too much credit, Harlan. We remained in silence and in the darkness the creature may have been a statue—in a blink it seemed as much. You are a corpse, no? A walking corpse of a man! A terrible sickness is in you. I know it. I see it on you as plainly as I see your fear.
Rigidity took over my body and I puffed my chest out like it meant something and I shook my head, “I’m not afraid.”
Not of me, no. Of yourself? Something. The voice lingered with the ends of its words, drawing them out first guttural then it left them on hisses. Something I know.
I lit the next Molotov, and the creature didn’t move; I threw the bottle furiously and it went into the darkness like a far candleflame till it erupted in the spot the Alukah had been standing—the thing had leapt from there, leaving me unawares and I lowered myself to the ground in a crouch, swiveling my head around to catch the thing in the dark. The flames on the ground danced brightly, leaving me light-blinded.
Not again, said the thing, You will not catch me so easily with fire again. It was behind me, nearer the outbuilding and it took a moment through blinks for my eyesight to return well enough to see the grotesqueness of the misshapen massive humanoid thing.
The Molotov explosion burned then disappeared and we stood looking at one another again and I felt silly, foolish, radically unprepared, and overwhelmingly trivial in the grand scheme of the universe—if it wanted to, it could leap the distance between us and rip me to shreds. Why didn’t it kill me? Why wasn’t I dead?
That damnable night creature extended one of its massive forehands, flexing the digits on the end of its arm and whispered its words like a plea, The boy, Harlan. That is all. Take that brimstone smelly girl and carry that shell of a body—walk on to whatever hole you humans call home.
Hoping to not draw a movement from the creature, I pressed my forearm against my ribcage, feeling the last Molotov that was there in the inner pocket and I gently slid the strap from my shoulder, and held my shotgun in both hands, licking my dry lips, watching the dark frame of the Alukah, fearing even a moment of distraction; my eyes locked on the creature and I refused to speak.
No deal then. It wasn’t a question; its rattish snout offered a mild nod of understanding. You despise a good sense of words.
I readied the shotgun, legs spaced in proper formation—looking down the barrel, I held my breath and upon squeezing the trigger, the thing knocked into my shoulder, but the creature was gone. In scanning, I found the thing had moved from the field and bounded wildly across the street towards the dead ruins of Annapolis, its muscular limbs made short work of fleeing.
The outbuilding remained quiet and erectly tall, and I moved to its shadow and cussed whispers for wasting ammunition. Only three shells remained; worse, I’d wasted two of my explosives. I watched the horizon in the opposite direction of the crowded foundations of Annapolis and carefully held my breath in watching and I prayed again, hoping that the commotion would not draw attention.
An overwhelming sense of foolishness welled in my guts, and I trotted off towards the direction I’d watched the Alukah go, through the ramshackle streets haphazardly.
The darkness was maddeningly empty, so I filled it with shouts, “C’mon! This is your turf, ain’t it? This darkness is yours so come and take me if you can!” Rusty as I was, I held the shotgun like never before, squinting my eyes, keeping my pace in unison with my heartbeat. There’s a place in that darkness that is beyond reproach, beyond the comprehension of a city dweller, beyond even my own understanding and I found myself padding through those streets at an accelerated rate, hopeful to confront the demon and I only found more dead and vacant lots and I crossed more than two intersections where the signs were either gone or indecipherable in the black shadows cast there. I wished for a payback of the demon’s hunt or perhaps I wished for something even more than that—what did I need to prove and to who? “You sick and twisted and foul beast!” I went so loud I continued to hoarseness, “Slimy fuck!” I’s so mad that spit came with the words too.
Still, there was nothing and I came to a final crossroads, a place more commercial—at least for a flatland dead town—where brick storefronts half-stood on those four corners. Finding my voice again, I continued my tirade, cursing the demon, “Come get some—c’mon already! Here’s your fight?” I was scared though.
A sudden noise from the dilapidated storefront to my left startled me to pivot and watch, gun pulled up, and I focused as hard as I could on the recesses of that shadowed place; it was a large antiquated face where a window might have sat many years prior. Wet and hungry sounds emanated from that place, the disgusting noises of a fiend—even in knowing it, I was surprised in seeing the new creature spill out in a lumpish mess of slickened muscles, lubricated, its innumerable arms and legs clawed its own body forward so that it rolled like a mushy ball—each of those limbs remained human in nature. Upon the thing pulling itself onto the street, I staggered backwards, gun still raised, and watched its form take a modicum of understanding in the moonlight; its mouths—sporadically, illogically placed over its mass of a body—opened and seemed to try and speak with each one merely letting go of meekly audible, painful sighs in doing so. The eyes, spaced much the same as the mouths, blinked and rolled as if it was torture for the thing to live. The mutant was a tongue-like mass at its center, and it was almost the size of a horse—I’d seen fiends grow much larger, but this was still a great threat.
In moving away from where it spilled onto the street, I stumbled backwards and caught myself on the backfoot and clumsily spun into a sprint; my boots pounded in my flight from the thing, and it chased after.
Its mouths exhausted terrible sighs as it gained speed in the relative openness of the street and in seconds, I would not have been surprised if the thing snatched me by an ankle and devoured me without thought—not that fiends had any other thoughts above the basest urge to consume.
The pursuit kept me going in the dark, watching the still shadows of the dilapidated housing and I pushed on until I tasted copper; my breathing went raspy—it’d been so long since I’d been forced to run from such a creature in the open. I took a glance back and saw it coming, gaining speed in its perpetual roll; its body excreted some fluid across itself so that it could glide more easily.
Coming to a crossroads I’d passed earlier, or perhaps it was a new one—I couldn’t fathom in the dark—I took in the direction of what I thought was south and ran full throttle; my knees ached.
In hoping to confuse the mutant, I quickly dove towards the right side of the southbound street, towards some ramshackle, through the skeletal framing of a skinless house without a roof; I pushed through the pencil-narrow vertical beams and stumbled through, landing onto the unseen ground on the other side. My left leg spasmed and in the millisecond that it took for my nerves to register the pain, I let out a mild, “Oh.” I tried to lift myself from the spot and found that my left leg refused to bend straight; in total horror—more so from my body failing than the mutant—I swiveled my torso around and scooted on my rear across the ground, raking myself in the opposite direction of the fiend.
The mutant slammed into the frame; its many arms reached through the bars and in a moment, it began to use its hands to lift itself along the exposed wall and I scooted further away till my back met the bars of where an opposite wall would’ve gone. In a scramble, I snatched the shotgun, pushed myself sniff against the bars on my side and watched the thing down the barrel; I waited and concentrated on my own breathing. If nothing else worked, I still had that Molotov—if not for it then for me.
As it crested the top of the wall made of bars, I watched patiently and only when I was certain I fired.
The mutant, the great meatball-thing that it was, lost its grasp for a moment and slipped onto the arrangement of vertical bars; I gush of liquid, illuminated in starlight, shot from its base of its soft body; it began to try and catch its grasp on the bars and I took a moment for myself to examine my left knee—I pulled it as close to my face as I could manage which was hardly at all—some black triangular mass had lodged itself into my flesh; more accurately, I’d slammed myself onto something sharp in my panic to flee the fiend. In a second, not thinking of the repercussions, I gripped the thing with my left hand and clamped my mouth onto my right hand, biting into fat of my hand by the thumb. The debris was free from my leg, and I let it to fall to the ground; blood ran freely into my mouth and I let go of the bite and tentatively lifted the gun again, ignoring the pain; the creature continued to struggle, and I fired again. It slipped again, further impaling itself on the bars.
I had one shell left.
Using the place I’d propped my back, I pushed free from the ground and put all my weight onto my right leg, testing the left; I staggered—hopped really—around in the small square of ground surrounded by metal framing and searched the ground for something long. I unearthed the dirt around my feet and found a long piece of metal rod; setting the gun to the side, I lifted the metal rod over my head and then slowly arched it out from my body. It would give me just enough room to further injure the thing while also staying well out of its grasp.
I swung the makeshift weapon down like a bat or a sword and the fiend slid a little further down the bars, the exit wounds began to show across the top of its roundish body, and I smacked it again—its mouths spoke words that could nearly be understood. Though it took only moments, I was thoroughly exhausted by the time the creature had reached the ground again, good and dead and impaled upon six of those vertical bars. I tossed the weapon to the ground, lifted my gun, and shimmied through the bars on the opposite side of the square.
Adrenaline only lasts so long, and my left leg throbbed to the point of nausea; I did not want to inspect the wound, but on rounding the ramshackle and watching the still dead thing, I stumbled into the street and knelt and lifted my pant leg. It was dark and bloody and already it was burning. Infection was my first thought. A puncture wound could spell a terrible fate. I shifted to sit in the street. My leg didn’t bend right.
The cat’s hiss came from the darkness and there wasn’t a way I could respond in time; I felt those long nasty fingers grab me by the back of my neck and I was lifted immediately from the ground—the gun clattered to the ground and all I could do was initially freeze and stiffen and then my hands moved to the grasp which held me firmly by the throat; those massive knuckles were like stones.
The Alukah had me and situated me so that it could look into my face, its long black hair hid its eyes but I could smell its breath and see its teeth which rested in its round mouth. I could snap you. It seemed to nod its head, but to detect humanity in that damnable pale face was a mistake.
I choked.
What’s that? It relaxed its grasp on my throat.
“Do it.”
Why’re you crying? Its foot brushed against the gun at its feet, and it lifted it with its free hand, and it commented casually, Little human toy.
It moved, holding me by the throat, dragging me along the ground in an abnormal sluggish gait. It was hard to see anything but the night sky, anything but the strange angle of the demon—with its grip, it was hard to breathe, and tears indeed welled in my eyes, and I held to its forearm to distribute some of the weight of my own body away from my neck. With its tugging, I could not speak, but it spoke.
I’ll squeeze you dry, but your blood’s too tainted to drink. That won’t make it any less interesting. I’ll twist you like a rag and see which hole it comes from first. More than that, you’ll scream. You’ll scream so loud everyone will know. Everyone will know what I’ve done to you—once you’re no more than ruin. Not even Mephisto would balk at my handiwork once I’ve had my time with you. God will look on your sour corpse with so much disgust there won’t be a place for you anywhere. Only Oblivion, a place worse than any.
The creature moved us to the open field, tilted its head back and forth, rose its rattish face to the sky and snorted and then clearly sniffed, dropping the gun to its feet to brush the long black hair from its eyes; its muscular body shone in the moonlight so that even its bluish veins stood plainly from its white skin. It shifted its gaze to the outbuilding—maybe fifty yards away—where the youngins were hidden.
Deftly, the thing lifted me from where it had kept me by its side and my feet levitated over the air, I felt feet taller, suspended from that long arm the way I was. It took its free hand to my midsection and I felt the digits of its hand squeeze my ribs and it let go of my throat and I coughed and wheezed, placing my hands on its fingers to dig into that thing’s skin—it didn’t matter—in seconds, a scream escaped my rattling throat; it squeezed more and I felt the glass bottle in my jacket burst from the force then the Alukah gave relief and I tried to gulp air, but felt pangs along my body. My jacket was wetted from blood by the broken bottle shards entering my body or from the contents of the bottle or both.
Urine? It pulled me close to itself, sniffed, and shook its head. Oil? it cackled, Again! Beg for the help you do not deserve! It held me outright once more.
Again, the great hand constricted me and again I could not help but to let out a scream—my lungs were on fire, my voice stretched like a dying animal. I heard barks and saw nothing through wild choking tears. The grip softened.
I coughed more and tried to speak; the Alukah brought me close to itself as if to wait and listen to what I had to say. Weeping words fell out in a whisper, “Kill me. Do it. I don’t mind.”
Another sharp laugh exited the thing’s throat and it squeezed again, facing me out so that I could look at the black outline of the outbuilding. I heard the barking again and I saw the figures stumble out from the sidelong face of the outbuilding. I blinked to remove the tears.
A voice, neither mine nor the demon’s, shouted an attempt at authority, “Let him go!” It was Gemma. They rounded the building so that moonlight removed them from obscurity. Gemma held Trouble on a lead while Andrew followed.
Trouble growled.
The smile was audible through the Alukah’s voice, Strong words for one so dainty. I felt its grip tighten and I chuffed and couldn’t manage a word.
“Get it!” shouted Gemma; she let go of Trouble’s lead and the dog looked curiously at me and the demon where we were and tucked its tail and circled to hide behind the children.
The Alukah laughed. Scary dog.
I was lightheaded while my vision went; I should die—I’d bleed out there or some unknown medical oddity would shut me off. Perhaps I’d will myself to death. My head nodded tiredly, and I fought it, blinking, shaking my head to maintain my eyes.
“You want me?” The boy took a few steps forward and his voice cracked. “We could make a deal.”
The Alukah lowered me so that my feet skimmed the ground but shifted to keep a tight hold around only my throat. Oh?
“What are you doing?” shouted Gemma; she closed the space between herself and Andrew and shoved him.
He shoved her back. “Me for him,” he addressed the demon.
Is that the deal?
Everything in my body protested while I reached for the jean pocket on my right side; I could not reach it. I stretched and my ribs screamed in pain—it was worse than bruising. The demon did not notice me moving. Maybe because my movements were weak, subtle. I tried again while mentally asking God for help and I came short of the pocket. I cursed Him and then my shaking fingers found the pocket. I withdrew the lighter there.
“That’s right,” said Andrew.
“No, he won’t,” Gemma’s voice was aflame.
It’s not your deal to make, girly.
I took the lighter to my jacket, lit it, and the flames grew around me in a flash, feeding on the oil.
The Alukah hissed, attempted to unwrap its hand from around me while I dug into its forearm with two claws and bit onto the thing’s hand for extra purchase. It swung me around and my legs flew limply. It took every bit of strength I had.
Let go! The Alukah shrieked.
Trouble barked, the children screamed, and I bit deeper till that thick black blood filled my mouth. The flames were immaculate, cleansing, more furious than I could’ve imagined. Not for life—that’s not why I held on so strongly—it was for them, for Andrew and Gemma. Me and that creature should’ve burned together. Fitting.
Delirium took over and I swiveled overhead in the demon’s tantrum, holding onto that arm. The Alukah hissed, roared, shouted nasty epithets.
The gunshot rang out and I met ground, hard.
Exhaustion or death could’ve taken me then, but it was the former.
When consciousness came again, it was hands, smacking hands that brought me to life—then the vague smell of burnt hair, cooked flesh. My body stung and I could not move but to lift my face from the dirt where I lay belly-flat.
“You almost died,” said Gemma somewhere between hope and sorrow, “You almost killed yourself!” She shook me and shoved me hard enough so that I rolled on my back. She’d been crying, but surely, we’d won. What was there to cry for? If we’d lost, she wouldn’t be talking at all.
She left me and I stared at the sky through slits. The sun was coming but I couldn’t feel the warmth; I couldn’t feel anything (that would be a sweet memory in the time to come). It was quiet save the crackling I heard; it was like the lowness of a dying fire. It wasn’t me? I wasn’t on fire?
When she returned, she lifted my head to place my pack underneath it; it elevated my vision. I surveyed my surroundings. The outbuilding was there and the Alukah lay on the ground perhaps ten feet from me; its body charred and sizzled and caught little flames in response to the cresting sunrise; everything was a daze—we’d won.
Gemma’s eyes glittered, and she called the dog over and the dog sniffed my face and the girl’s lips remained flat, expressionless.
I saw the boy’s body—it lay motionless alongside the dead Alukah and alongside that body was my shotgun. The body’s head sat on its side, disconnected from its owner, facing away from where I lay.
“He killed it. He shot it.” Gemma sat beside me, and Trouble placed her snout on the girl’s shoulder. “We’re going to die,” she nodded.
First/Previous
Archive
2024.05.18 16:55 kenUdigitt Novel Chapter 413
Disclaimer: I do not speak Korean. This is purely translated by machine with a lot of cleanup afterward. With that in mind, I am open to criticism to improve these translations. Enjoy!
Chapter 413
Whoosh, boom!
The ground shattered as a gigantic greatsword plunged down. Wu Hei-Xing, quick as lightning, narrowly escaped, missing the blade by mere inches.
Thwack!
The sword pierced under the ogre's jaw, emerging triumphantly through the top of its head — a clean, decisive strike.
Wu Hei-Xing, extracting his sword from the creature, used the falling body as a springboard to launch himself into the fray among other monsters.
His blade danced through the air, leaving behind a tapestry of shimmering lines.
'Sword of Twelve Crimson Threads.' [Note: direct translation - Twelve Blood Net Sword.]
While the Cultural Revolution from 1966 to 1976 was decried by many as a catastrophic injustice, for others, like Wu Hei-Xing’s family, it presented a golden opportunity. [Note: The Cultural Revolution in China, initiated by Mao Zedong, aimed to preserve Chinese Communism by purging remnants of capitalist and traditional elements from Chinese society. This extensive purge targeted a broad range of cultural, social, and economic features including old customs, culture, habits, and ideas. It led to the destruction of historical artifacts, temples, and texts, as well as the persecution of intellectuals, and the suppression of traditional practices and ceremonies.]
His grandfather, once a close ally of Mao Zedong, used this turbulent period to amass a fortune, leveraging his son's position in the Red Guard to acquire priceless cultural relics and texts.
Among these treasures was the Sword of Twelve Crimson Threads, an ancient text detailing a formidable sword technique.
Shhhsh!
Wu Hei-Xing unleashed the technique — a net of twelve crimson strands that spanned ten meters in every direction.
The net, pulsating with a red glow, cleaved through skin, muscle, and bone, rendering dozens of high-ranking monsters into pieces.
Such prowess was befitting of an S-rank Hunter. Thrilled by his dominance, Wu Hei-Xing bellowed:
「What is the Red Guard Gang doing! Wipe them all out, you bastards!」
「Yes!」
The battle cry, imbued with potent mana, reverberated across the battlefield.
Three hundred elite hunters, groomed and trained by Wu Hei-Xing’s family as personal soldiers, surged forward. They attacked relentlessly, driven by fierce loyalty and training.
Shhhsh! Crack!
Squish! Screech!
- Crunch, gurgle!
「Arrrgh!」
The battlefield was a cacophony of human screams and monstrous howls, punctuated by the gruesome sounds of carnage.
Though the remaining Red Guard Gang's hunters were formidable, the elite monsters at the rear were equally daunting.
And the monsters emerged from the dense fog in overwhelming numbers.
However…
「How dare these filthy, foul-smelling bastards!」
Puff, puff, puff!
The presence of Wu Hei-Xing, an S-rank Hunter, was a force mighty enough to sway the tide of this brutal clash.
Despite often being criticized for his reckless behavior and mercurial personality, Wu Hei-Xing was undeniably a product of both privilege and innate talent.
His experiences on the frontlines, immersed in relentless combat and near-constant peril, had honed his abilities far beyond their initial limits.
'I can do it! I am Wu Hei-Xing!'
With a newfound zeal, Wu Hei-Xing brandished his sword with unyielding fervor.
He faced an overwhelming legion of tens of thousands of monsters. Despite initial fears, he had grown immensely, adapting to the ruthless demands of war.
Whenever wounds or fatigue threatened him, he would down costly potions like mere water and strategically use the hunters of the Red Guard Gang as his shields.
Now, no creature could withstand the devastating sweeps of his crimson Aura Blade. [Note: a quick reminder - Aura Blade is the real-world equivalent of Sword Aura.]
'I'll make sure no one can ignore me ever again. Lei Fei... The bangzi bastard... No one!'
Wu Hei-Xing's jaw clenched as bitter memories surged, fueling his rage.
Swoosh! Thud!
A lance, hurled with stunning velocity, impaled several hunters and embedded itself deep into the earth.
It was a 3-meter-long assault lance he had rarely seen before.
Wu Hei-Xing snapped his head towards the source, his eyes widening in alarm.
「Death Knight!」
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
It was a Death Knight, striding across the battlefield atop a skeletal horse. And not just one, but two.
The second Death Knight poised its lance aloft while mounted.
「Everyone, be careful......!」
Swoosh! Bang!
His warning was cut short as the second lance tore through the air, brutally penetrating a group of hunters.
The finest armor was no match for the deadly force, scattering limbs and collapsing bodies.
As the Death Knights continued their relentless advance, the hunters of the Red Guard Gang stood petrified, witnessing the gruesome spectacle unfold.
- Dark. Vine.
A sinister, rasping voice filled the air, heralding a new horror.
Crack, crunch, crunch!
The earth fractured like a spiderweb, and from the fissures, black vines surged.
These vines, imbued with dark magic, writhed like serpents, snatching at human limbs and threading through armor gaps.
Shiririrk! Thud!
「Arghhh!」
「Dark magic! It's dark magic!」
「Don't panic! Cut the vines! Get out of range now!」
The battlefield echoed with screams and commands, resonating through the chaotic fray.
With a forceful yank, Wu Hei-Xing tore the encroaching black vines from the ground.
His teeth clenched not in sorrow for fallen comrades, but in grim realization of the unfolding catastrophe.
「Lich......!」
His suspicion was confirmed. High above the melee, a death mage astride a massive wyvern brandished a staff crafted from skulls and bones, directing it menacingly towards the earth.
- Dark. Fog. [Note: the direct translation here is 'confuse' so I changed it to something that sounds more like a technique.]
Swoosh!
A bone-chilling cry unleashed a shadowy miasma that enveloped the hunters.
Those entangled in the black vines suffered hallucinations both visual and auditory, turning them into helpless targets for the circling monsters.
- Squeal!
- Roar!
Crack! Crunch!
「Argh, ugh!」
「Save me!」
「Mother! You mustn’t die. Mother!」
Desperate cries pierced the air as some hunters succumbed to the illusions, their voices fading into silence.
Yet, amidst the chaos, some with strong mental fortitutde managed to shake off the bewitchment.
「You must go!」
「Young Master!」
Despite the cries of A-rank hunters surrounding him, Wu Hei-Xing's face was ashen like a blank sheet of paper.
A single, daunting question plagued him.
'How on earth do I handle this?'
Above was the menacing Lich and on the ground, two Death Knights advanced swiftly.
Could he retreat? If so, where and how should he retreat?
Alone, perhaps he could face the Death Knights, but with the Lich’s sorcery and the encircling horde of monsters, the situation was dire.
No strategy presented itself, no matter how desperately he pondered.
'What a damn mess...'
Clench.
His jaw clenched so tightly he felt his teeth might crack from the pressure.
Swoosh, bang!
The air burst with a compressed whoosh as a streak of light rocketed from the distant ground, slicing through the sky.
In the next instant, the headless wyvern began to falter and plummet earthward.
「This...」
Wu Hei-Xing murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. Around him, everyone ceased their actions, eyes drawn skyward.
Before them, the wyvern's massive body and a cascade of black bones, once the formidable Lich, tumbled through the air.
「...This makes no sense.」
The Lich was dead, vanquished by a single, astonishing strike.
A blow that had pierced through layers of potent defensive spells to strike a target mid-air? Such precision and power were unheard of, even for an S-rank hunter.
Wu Hei-Xing had never witnessed an attack so swift and lethal.
Yet, for the one who delivered it, this seemed as effortless as drawing breath.
Not far from the fray, he stood, observing the chaos his action had wrought. After a moment, he remarked casually,
"It’s been a while since I threw a spear. It definitely doesn’t feel like it used to."
Behind him, a figure as solid as an iron tower responded with a rigid tone,
"You did well."
"Hmm. Not really. It seems I've become dull. A sign of aging, I guess."
"How could that be?"
Lee Jeong-Ryong chuckled lightly at the security team leader’s unemotional response.
"I saw a Death Knight."
Seok Go-Jun silently nodded.
"Yes. There were two of them."
"Do you think Wu Hei-Xing can handle it?"
"If you mean the Death Knights, he should be able to take them down without much trouble."
Seok Go-Jun's voice dropped to a whisper,
"As long as there are no monsters around."
"That sounds challenging right now."
"The influence of dark magic has disappeared, but the troop damage is significant, and there are too many monsters."
"Then we must struggle with all our might."
"It will be a very fierce and difficult fight."
"Well, then we must lend a hand."
"How about we continue to observe a bit longer?"
Lee Jeong-Ryong's eyes widened dramatically.
"Why?"
Having been mentored by Lee Jeong-Ryong since his youth, Seok Go-Jun understood that every interaction was potentially a lesson. He knew the response expected of him.
"Wouldn't people be more grateful in precarious situations?"
Lee Jeong-Ryong’s stern expression softened into a satisfied smile upon hearing his disciple’s insightful reply.
"Yes, exactly that."
"The Red Guard Gang has always been a thorn in our side."
"It’s funny, really. Those shouting about the people and communism, while forming a private army of hunters behind the scenes."
"But aren't the Princelings, which support the Red Guard Gang, not friendly towards us?" [Note: the Princelings are descendants of the revolutionary veterans and Chinese Communist Party elites who leverage their lineage for influence and promote business-friendly policies. Wu Hei-Xing's family is part of this group.]
"That's why the Red Guard Gang needs to be eliminated. We've always sat in the shade to avoid the sunlight, but if the tree is uprooted, what are we to do?"
"We'll have to find another tree or buy a parasol."
"We will become the new tree. That should open up more opportunities."
Seok Go-Jun nodded in agreement before voicing another query that had been troubling him.
"May I ask one more thing?"
"Speak."
"Is Wu Hei-Xing’s involvement in this operation... related to Jin Tae-Kyung?"
This question had lingered in Seok Go-Jun’s mind, puzzling him.
Despite Wu Hei-Xing’s status as an S-rank hunter, his inclusion seemed uncharacteristic.
'He is a formidable opponent. Even if Master is using Wu Hei-Xing, what use could he have?'
It was often like this.
Just when Seok Go-Jun felt he had a grasp on his master's strategies, new layers would unfold, eluding full comprehension.
And at such moments, Lee Jeong-Ryong would sport that enigmatic smile.
As he did now.
"Team Leader Seok."
The atmosphere shifted; Seok Go-Jun instantly resumed his formal role as the security team leader of the Ares Guild, bowed respectfully.
"Yes, Vice Guild Leader."
"It seems like it’s time for you to step in. What do you think?"
Raising his gaze, Seok Go-Jun peered over Lee Jeong-Ryong's shoulder, assessing the chaotic battlefield below.
The Red Guard Gang’s elite, though carefully chosen, were faltering against the monster onslaught. Wu Hei-Xing had just managed to defeat one of the two Death Knights.
"I will go now."
"Take care not to get hurt."
Seok Go-Jun nodded briefly in acknowledgment, then led the assembled Ares Guild members toward the battlefield.
As they advanced towards the monsters, they remained silent, yet a palpable momentum radiated from them, overwhelming and dominating the field.
Crunch! Screech!
Lee Jeong-Ryong watched with a hint of satisfaction as one flank of the monster legion crumbled instantly under their charge. Just then, a scent of blood wafted to him on the wind.
The breeze from the west was not just carrying the tang of battle; it was a harbinger for the arrival of someone Lee Jeong-Ryong had been eagerly awaiting.
"Right on time."
Lee Jeong-Ryong murmured, his eyes scanning the distant horizon.
Heightening his senses with Qi, distant shouts reached his ears.
- Damn it, kill them all! And that guy who keeps shouting 'eh', do it one more time and I'll consider you a monster! Got it?
A soft chuckle escaped Lee Jeong-Ryong as he extended his hand toward the tumult.
Then he clenched his fist, directing it towards Jin Tae-Kyung, who was somewhere amidst the chaos.
Previous Table of Contents Next
submitted by kenUdigitt to u/kenUdigitt [link] [comments]
Chapter 413
Whoosh, boom!
The ground shattered as a gigantic greatsword plunged down. Wu Hei-Xing, quick as lightning, narrowly escaped, missing the blade by mere inches.
Thwack!
The sword pierced under the ogre's jaw, emerging triumphantly through the top of its head — a clean, decisive strike.
Wu Hei-Xing, extracting his sword from the creature, used the falling body as a springboard to launch himself into the fray among other monsters.
His blade danced through the air, leaving behind a tapestry of shimmering lines.
'Sword of Twelve Crimson Threads.' [Note: direct translation - Twelve Blood Net Sword.]
While the Cultural Revolution from 1966 to 1976 was decried by many as a catastrophic injustice, for others, like Wu Hei-Xing’s family, it presented a golden opportunity. [Note: The Cultural Revolution in China, initiated by Mao Zedong, aimed to preserve Chinese Communism by purging remnants of capitalist and traditional elements from Chinese society. This extensive purge targeted a broad range of cultural, social, and economic features including old customs, culture, habits, and ideas. It led to the destruction of historical artifacts, temples, and texts, as well as the persecution of intellectuals, and the suppression of traditional practices and ceremonies.]
His grandfather, once a close ally of Mao Zedong, used this turbulent period to amass a fortune, leveraging his son's position in the Red Guard to acquire priceless cultural relics and texts.
Among these treasures was the Sword of Twelve Crimson Threads, an ancient text detailing a formidable sword technique.
Shhhsh!
Wu Hei-Xing unleashed the technique — a net of twelve crimson strands that spanned ten meters in every direction.
The net, pulsating with a red glow, cleaved through skin, muscle, and bone, rendering dozens of high-ranking monsters into pieces.
Such prowess was befitting of an S-rank Hunter. Thrilled by his dominance, Wu Hei-Xing bellowed:
「What is the Red Guard Gang doing! Wipe them all out, you bastards!」
「Yes!」
The battle cry, imbued with potent mana, reverberated across the battlefield.
Three hundred elite hunters, groomed and trained by Wu Hei-Xing’s family as personal soldiers, surged forward. They attacked relentlessly, driven by fierce loyalty and training.
Shhhsh! Crack!
Squish! Screech!
- Crunch, gurgle!
「Arrrgh!」
The battlefield was a cacophony of human screams and monstrous howls, punctuated by the gruesome sounds of carnage.
Though the remaining Red Guard Gang's hunters were formidable, the elite monsters at the rear were equally daunting.
And the monsters emerged from the dense fog in overwhelming numbers.
However…
「How dare these filthy, foul-smelling bastards!」
Puff, puff, puff!
The presence of Wu Hei-Xing, an S-rank Hunter, was a force mighty enough to sway the tide of this brutal clash.
Despite often being criticized for his reckless behavior and mercurial personality, Wu Hei-Xing was undeniably a product of both privilege and innate talent.
His experiences on the frontlines, immersed in relentless combat and near-constant peril, had honed his abilities far beyond their initial limits.
'I can do it! I am Wu Hei-Xing!'
With a newfound zeal, Wu Hei-Xing brandished his sword with unyielding fervor.
He faced an overwhelming legion of tens of thousands of monsters. Despite initial fears, he had grown immensely, adapting to the ruthless demands of war.
Whenever wounds or fatigue threatened him, he would down costly potions like mere water and strategically use the hunters of the Red Guard Gang as his shields.
Now, no creature could withstand the devastating sweeps of his crimson Aura Blade. [Note: a quick reminder - Aura Blade is the real-world equivalent of Sword Aura.]
'I'll make sure no one can ignore me ever again. Lei Fei... The bangzi bastard... No one!'
Wu Hei-Xing's jaw clenched as bitter memories surged, fueling his rage.
Swoosh! Thud!
A lance, hurled with stunning velocity, impaled several hunters and embedded itself deep into the earth.
It was a 3-meter-long assault lance he had rarely seen before.
Wu Hei-Xing snapped his head towards the source, his eyes widening in alarm.
「Death Knight!」
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
It was a Death Knight, striding across the battlefield atop a skeletal horse. And not just one, but two.
The second Death Knight poised its lance aloft while mounted.
「Everyone, be careful......!」
Swoosh! Bang!
His warning was cut short as the second lance tore through the air, brutally penetrating a group of hunters.
The finest armor was no match for the deadly force, scattering limbs and collapsing bodies.
As the Death Knights continued their relentless advance, the hunters of the Red Guard Gang stood petrified, witnessing the gruesome spectacle unfold.
- Dark. Vine.
A sinister, rasping voice filled the air, heralding a new horror.
Crack, crunch, crunch!
The earth fractured like a spiderweb, and from the fissures, black vines surged.
These vines, imbued with dark magic, writhed like serpents, snatching at human limbs and threading through armor gaps.
Shiririrk! Thud!
「Arghhh!」
「Dark magic! It's dark magic!」
「Don't panic! Cut the vines! Get out of range now!」
The battlefield echoed with screams and commands, resonating through the chaotic fray.
With a forceful yank, Wu Hei-Xing tore the encroaching black vines from the ground.
His teeth clenched not in sorrow for fallen comrades, but in grim realization of the unfolding catastrophe.
「Lich......!」
His suspicion was confirmed. High above the melee, a death mage astride a massive wyvern brandished a staff crafted from skulls and bones, directing it menacingly towards the earth.
- Dark. Fog. [Note: the direct translation here is 'confuse' so I changed it to something that sounds more like a technique.]
Swoosh!
A bone-chilling cry unleashed a shadowy miasma that enveloped the hunters.
Those entangled in the black vines suffered hallucinations both visual and auditory, turning them into helpless targets for the circling monsters.
- Squeal!
- Roar!
Crack! Crunch!
「Argh, ugh!」
「Save me!」
「Mother! You mustn’t die. Mother!」
Desperate cries pierced the air as some hunters succumbed to the illusions, their voices fading into silence.
Yet, amidst the chaos, some with strong mental fortitutde managed to shake off the bewitchment.
「You must go!」
「Young Master!」
Despite the cries of A-rank hunters surrounding him, Wu Hei-Xing's face was ashen like a blank sheet of paper.
A single, daunting question plagued him.
'How on earth do I handle this?'
Above was the menacing Lich and on the ground, two Death Knights advanced swiftly.
Could he retreat? If so, where and how should he retreat?
Alone, perhaps he could face the Death Knights, but with the Lich’s sorcery and the encircling horde of monsters, the situation was dire.
No strategy presented itself, no matter how desperately he pondered.
'What a damn mess...'
Clench.
His jaw clenched so tightly he felt his teeth might crack from the pressure.
Swoosh, bang!
The air burst with a compressed whoosh as a streak of light rocketed from the distant ground, slicing through the sky.
In the next instant, the headless wyvern began to falter and plummet earthward.
「This...」
Wu Hei-Xing murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. Around him, everyone ceased their actions, eyes drawn skyward.
Before them, the wyvern's massive body and a cascade of black bones, once the formidable Lich, tumbled through the air.
「...This makes no sense.」
The Lich was dead, vanquished by a single, astonishing strike.
A blow that had pierced through layers of potent defensive spells to strike a target mid-air? Such precision and power were unheard of, even for an S-rank hunter.
Wu Hei-Xing had never witnessed an attack so swift and lethal.
Yet, for the one who delivered it, this seemed as effortless as drawing breath.
Not far from the fray, he stood, observing the chaos his action had wrought. After a moment, he remarked casually,
"It’s been a while since I threw a spear. It definitely doesn’t feel like it used to."
Behind him, a figure as solid as an iron tower responded with a rigid tone,
"You did well."
"Hmm. Not really. It seems I've become dull. A sign of aging, I guess."
"How could that be?"
Lee Jeong-Ryong chuckled lightly at the security team leader’s unemotional response.
"I saw a Death Knight."
Seok Go-Jun silently nodded.
"Yes. There were two of them."
"Do you think Wu Hei-Xing can handle it?"
"If you mean the Death Knights, he should be able to take them down without much trouble."
Seok Go-Jun's voice dropped to a whisper,
"As long as there are no monsters around."
"That sounds challenging right now."
"The influence of dark magic has disappeared, but the troop damage is significant, and there are too many monsters."
"Then we must struggle with all our might."
"It will be a very fierce and difficult fight."
"Well, then we must lend a hand."
"How about we continue to observe a bit longer?"
Lee Jeong-Ryong's eyes widened dramatically.
"Why?"
Having been mentored by Lee Jeong-Ryong since his youth, Seok Go-Jun understood that every interaction was potentially a lesson. He knew the response expected of him.
"Wouldn't people be more grateful in precarious situations?"
Lee Jeong-Ryong’s stern expression softened into a satisfied smile upon hearing his disciple’s insightful reply.
"Yes, exactly that."
"The Red Guard Gang has always been a thorn in our side."
"It’s funny, really. Those shouting about the people and communism, while forming a private army of hunters behind the scenes."
"But aren't the Princelings, which support the Red Guard Gang, not friendly towards us?" [Note: the Princelings are descendants of the revolutionary veterans and Chinese Communist Party elites who leverage their lineage for influence and promote business-friendly policies. Wu Hei-Xing's family is part of this group.]
"That's why the Red Guard Gang needs to be eliminated. We've always sat in the shade to avoid the sunlight, but if the tree is uprooted, what are we to do?"
"We'll have to find another tree or buy a parasol."
"We will become the new tree. That should open up more opportunities."
Seok Go-Jun nodded in agreement before voicing another query that had been troubling him.
"May I ask one more thing?"
"Speak."
"Is Wu Hei-Xing’s involvement in this operation... related to Jin Tae-Kyung?"
This question had lingered in Seok Go-Jun’s mind, puzzling him.
Despite Wu Hei-Xing’s status as an S-rank hunter, his inclusion seemed uncharacteristic.
'He is a formidable opponent. Even if Master is using Wu Hei-Xing, what use could he have?'
It was often like this.
Just when Seok Go-Jun felt he had a grasp on his master's strategies, new layers would unfold, eluding full comprehension.
And at such moments, Lee Jeong-Ryong would sport that enigmatic smile.
As he did now.
"Team Leader Seok."
The atmosphere shifted; Seok Go-Jun instantly resumed his formal role as the security team leader of the Ares Guild, bowed respectfully.
"Yes, Vice Guild Leader."
"It seems like it’s time for you to step in. What do you think?"
Raising his gaze, Seok Go-Jun peered over Lee Jeong-Ryong's shoulder, assessing the chaotic battlefield below.
The Red Guard Gang’s elite, though carefully chosen, were faltering against the monster onslaught. Wu Hei-Xing had just managed to defeat one of the two Death Knights.
"I will go now."
"Take care not to get hurt."
Seok Go-Jun nodded briefly in acknowledgment, then led the assembled Ares Guild members toward the battlefield.
As they advanced towards the monsters, they remained silent, yet a palpable momentum radiated from them, overwhelming and dominating the field.
Crunch! Screech!
Lee Jeong-Ryong watched with a hint of satisfaction as one flank of the monster legion crumbled instantly under their charge. Just then, a scent of blood wafted to him on the wind.
The breeze from the west was not just carrying the tang of battle; it was a harbinger for the arrival of someone Lee Jeong-Ryong had been eagerly awaiting.
"Right on time."
Lee Jeong-Ryong murmured, his eyes scanning the distant horizon.
Heightening his senses with Qi, distant shouts reached his ears.
- Damn it, kill them all! And that guy who keeps shouting 'eh', do it one more time and I'll consider you a monster! Got it?
A soft chuckle escaped Lee Jeong-Ryong as he extended his hand toward the tumult.
Then he clenched his fist, directing it towards Jin Tae-Kyung, who was somewhere amidst the chaos.
Previous Table of Contents Next
2024.05.18 16:19 Alyhasarrived94 Progress in 3 months
 | Hi guys!! submitted by Alyhasarrived94 to BeachBodyWorkouts [link] [comments] I had a body scan done in February and got an updated one today. I was so excited I wanted to share. I’m down 12 lbs in that time and even lost some visceral fat. I’m going to keep going! This is only the beginning. |
2024.05.18 15:12 Medium-Refuse3890 Weight/Muscle loss - 6 weeks post op
 | Almost 6 weeks post op! First pic is pre op. Second pic is today in the same outfit. 3rd is pre op weight, 4th is post weight. I got cleared for the gym at my 5.5 week appointment and my first day back in the gym was yesterday. My surgeon told me I could lift the same amount I did before and just to ensure i’m not clenching my jaw or overdoing anything. I lost about 12 pounds overall but i’m confident I will get it all back soon! submitted by Medium-Refuse3890 to jawsurgery [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 13:47 Monoking2 I posted about anxiety over calling 911 last night. finally did it, turns out I have a serious condition and I'll be having urgent surgery sometime this weekend or Monday.
hi again. I ended up deleting the post in question because it was making me extra anxious, but I posted a combination vent/advice post talking about the extreme back pain I'd been having and how hard the decision to call 911 for help was on me. thank you to everyone here who supported and encouraged me, it means a lot.
lots of medical talk and some serious discussion of fainting from this point on, so read with caution if that's a trigger for you.
so, I've now been in the emergency room for 2 days ( I think? had a major panic attack which felt like it removed a whole day from my mind) as they haven't had a spare bed to actually admit me to the hospital properly. but since I've been here, they've done a lot for my pain and I've had tons of tests.
having to be in the hospital is absolutely fucking miserable for obvious reasons, but I am glad I called for help. my pain was extreme and I started considering 911 because I'd spent an entire day without being able to eat or drink because I just couldn't stand. I hate what agoraphobia does to you. I couldn't fucking feed myself and could hardly make it to the bathroom, but the sheer fear of leaving my apartment really had me trying to just... not seek help. I hate this fucking disorder. it's like a prison.
anyway, I'd been told before I probably had a herniated disc, but that's not the case. so I'm very glad I came. I got a CT scan and they've discovered an approximately 10 inch long teratoma inside me. it's either next to or sprouting off my ovary and is pressing against my spine and my intestines mostly. haven't had bathroom issues thankfully, but can't say the back pain is really any better.
guys, when I say this shit was shocking to see, I'm not exaggerating. I wish I had asked for a copy of my CT scan. imagine a diagram of a human being, and inside there is an football shaped mass shoved against the spine. fucking horrifying. it is a relief to know what's going on, but because of the sheer size of this thing and the fact I'm now completely unable to get up or stand on my own, my doctor told me "you're not leaving the hospital with this still inside you" and is aiming to schedule me for surgery this weekend. she said Monday was also a possibility but was aiming for earlier.
this will be my first time having major surgery in my entire life (I'm 25!) and i don't have any of my coping objects like my plushies or my fidget toys, all I have is my phone.
also, they don't know for sure if the thing is a teratoma actually, but two doctors who've examined the scans in different ways suspect it is. they also just took a crap ton of blood from me to do some testing for cancer a couple of hours ago. cancer is still an option that's on the table.
I'm. exhausted. i'm not even as upset over the possibilities as I can be anymore, and I think that's because the night I arrived was the first time in my entire life I experienced 10/10 pain and spent probably several hours uncontrollably sobbing. they couldn't keep me in a bed forever simply because the ER didn't have enough, and sitting in a chair is the most painful position possible for me, and I couldn't stop sobbing because I was just in so much pain... even after they gave me some heavy pain meds and muscle relaxers...
I came very close to passing out because it hurt to breathe. I am appreciative for being in the hospital because the staff has helped me a lot obviously, but GOD I wish ANYONE could've listened when I was BEGGING for help to breathe. it kept going like:
me: gasping and leaning over nearly fainting PLEASE HELP ME BREATHE I CAN'T FEEL MY LIMBS
staff: yeah, that's because you're breathing really shallowly
me: PLEASE HELP ME BREATHE
staff: take a deep breath in
me: takes a shallow shaky breath in. sputters out. literally forgets to breathe multiple times and accidentally holds my breath and gasps out in pain
staff: yeah just like that
three different. staff members did this to me. and also one nurse tried to give me a call button on a cord, I told him audibly I couldn't move or feel my hands, he shoved it awkwardly in my unmoving fingers and I of course instantly dropped it as he walked away. he came back to check on me and seemed surprised that happened. so that part wasn't ideal. I can't remember well but I think the only thing that stopped my panic was just becoming too exhausted to shout in pain any more. fucking horrific experience.
lol and shout out to the person in the next emergency room seat over from me, who literally raised her voice at me to be quieter and be respectful of other people. and then repeatedly loudly complained to nurses about how loud I was. nurses didn't really give her the time of day about that one, at least. each one put on their "I'm going to be polite but you're an idiot" voice.
everything else has been okayish though. I'm now in a bed again since I think that amount of pained screaming made them realize I need to be in one. im. as okay as an emergency hospital trip for an agoraphobic can be. I ate a hospital cheeseburger that was surprisingly good.
so, how's everybody else's weekend plans?
submitted by Monoking2 to Agoraphobia [link] [comments]
lots of medical talk and some serious discussion of fainting from this point on, so read with caution if that's a trigger for you.
so, I've now been in the emergency room for 2 days ( I think? had a major panic attack which felt like it removed a whole day from my mind) as they haven't had a spare bed to actually admit me to the hospital properly. but since I've been here, they've done a lot for my pain and I've had tons of tests.
having to be in the hospital is absolutely fucking miserable for obvious reasons, but I am glad I called for help. my pain was extreme and I started considering 911 because I'd spent an entire day without being able to eat or drink because I just couldn't stand. I hate what agoraphobia does to you. I couldn't fucking feed myself and could hardly make it to the bathroom, but the sheer fear of leaving my apartment really had me trying to just... not seek help. I hate this fucking disorder. it's like a prison.
anyway, I'd been told before I probably had a herniated disc, but that's not the case. so I'm very glad I came. I got a CT scan and they've discovered an approximately 10 inch long teratoma inside me. it's either next to or sprouting off my ovary and is pressing against my spine and my intestines mostly. haven't had bathroom issues thankfully, but can't say the back pain is really any better.
guys, when I say this shit was shocking to see, I'm not exaggerating. I wish I had asked for a copy of my CT scan. imagine a diagram of a human being, and inside there is an football shaped mass shoved against the spine. fucking horrifying. it is a relief to know what's going on, but because of the sheer size of this thing and the fact I'm now completely unable to get up or stand on my own, my doctor told me "you're not leaving the hospital with this still inside you" and is aiming to schedule me for surgery this weekend. she said Monday was also a possibility but was aiming for earlier.
this will be my first time having major surgery in my entire life (I'm 25!) and i don't have any of my coping objects like my plushies or my fidget toys, all I have is my phone.
also, they don't know for sure if the thing is a teratoma actually, but two doctors who've examined the scans in different ways suspect it is. they also just took a crap ton of blood from me to do some testing for cancer a couple of hours ago. cancer is still an option that's on the table.
I'm. exhausted. i'm not even as upset over the possibilities as I can be anymore, and I think that's because the night I arrived was the first time in my entire life I experienced 10/10 pain and spent probably several hours uncontrollably sobbing. they couldn't keep me in a bed forever simply because the ER didn't have enough, and sitting in a chair is the most painful position possible for me, and I couldn't stop sobbing because I was just in so much pain... even after they gave me some heavy pain meds and muscle relaxers...
I came very close to passing out because it hurt to breathe. I am appreciative for being in the hospital because the staff has helped me a lot obviously, but GOD I wish ANYONE could've listened when I was BEGGING for help to breathe. it kept going like:
me: gasping and leaning over nearly fainting PLEASE HELP ME BREATHE I CAN'T FEEL MY LIMBS
staff: yeah, that's because you're breathing really shallowly
me: PLEASE HELP ME BREATHE
staff: take a deep breath in
me: takes a shallow shaky breath in. sputters out. literally forgets to breathe multiple times and accidentally holds my breath and gasps out in pain
staff: yeah just like that
three different. staff members did this to me. and also one nurse tried to give me a call button on a cord, I told him audibly I couldn't move or feel my hands, he shoved it awkwardly in my unmoving fingers and I of course instantly dropped it as he walked away. he came back to check on me and seemed surprised that happened. so that part wasn't ideal. I can't remember well but I think the only thing that stopped my panic was just becoming too exhausted to shout in pain any more. fucking horrific experience.
lol and shout out to the person in the next emergency room seat over from me, who literally raised her voice at me to be quieter and be respectful of other people. and then repeatedly loudly complained to nurses about how loud I was. nurses didn't really give her the time of day about that one, at least. each one put on their "I'm going to be polite but you're an idiot" voice.
everything else has been okayish though. I'm now in a bed again since I think that amount of pained screaming made them realize I need to be in one. im. as okay as an emergency hospital trip for an agoraphobic can be. I ate a hospital cheeseburger that was surprisingly good.
so, how's everybody else's weekend plans?
2024.05.18 13:41 Simply_a_nom I'm worried about gameplay
So I've been onboard with this game since it was announced and I saw who was behind it. That alone has kept me optimistic for this game. The looks, garphics, art direction was never much a concern for me. I just wanted in-depth, interesting game play.
But now we are just over two weeks from early access and we haven't seem much gameplay at all. And what we have seen has been a bit lacklustre in my opinion. The main element of gameplay element we've seen is crafting and honestly there is nothing exciting or new about it and while these things are nice to have in a lifetime, they don't make a lifesim.
I want to see in-depth gameplay in relation to relationship, wants, aspirations, family game play. I want to see how personality traits and background traits affects your character and gameplay. I want to see consequences for gameplay decisions. I want to see a memory system. These could all interact with each other. For example a kid growing up in a wealthy family, with mean parents should affect that characters background traits and therefore impact its personality as an adult.
Similar to sims 2 I want to see some kind of wants and fears where working towards or against their gaols impacts their happiness.
My big big fear is the game is too directed towards a customised experience. There has been so much focus on modding and making the game what the individual player wants that there is a lack of personality in the game, lack of consequence for gameplay style. The fact that the team still refer to the characters as characters say it all. They should be "Lbys" or some other name and they should be their own caricature of life. But right they don't have their own perspective and are too much of a blank slate.
Other little niggling thinks I'm not sure have been addressed yet but can your character gain weight, muscle etc depending on lifestyle choices. Will your characters visibly age as they get older or are these things locked inside of CAS.
submitted by Simply_a_nom to LifeByYou [link] [comments]
But now we are just over two weeks from early access and we haven't seem much gameplay at all. And what we have seen has been a bit lacklustre in my opinion. The main element of gameplay element we've seen is crafting and honestly there is nothing exciting or new about it and while these things are nice to have in a lifetime, they don't make a lifesim.
I want to see in-depth gameplay in relation to relationship, wants, aspirations, family game play. I want to see how personality traits and background traits affects your character and gameplay. I want to see consequences for gameplay decisions. I want to see a memory system. These could all interact with each other. For example a kid growing up in a wealthy family, with mean parents should affect that characters background traits and therefore impact its personality as an adult.
Similar to sims 2 I want to see some kind of wants and fears where working towards or against their gaols impacts their happiness.
My big big fear is the game is too directed towards a customised experience. There has been so much focus on modding and making the game what the individual player wants that there is a lack of personality in the game, lack of consequence for gameplay style. The fact that the team still refer to the characters as characters say it all. They should be "Lbys" or some other name and they should be their own caricature of life. But right they don't have their own perspective and are too much of a blank slate.
Other little niggling thinks I'm not sure have been addressed yet but can your character gain weight, muscle etc depending on lifestyle choices. Will your characters visibly age as they get older or are these things locked inside of CAS.
2024.05.18 12:49 V-by-V My collection of dinosaur/paleo books. Feel free to ask if you have questions about any of them/want to see pictures from the inside
 | Pterosaurs submitted by V-by-V to Paleontology [link] [comments] • The Princeton Field Guide to Pterosaurs, G. S. Paul, 2023; english; 176 pages; images in color and b/w on almost every page (skeletal diagrams, reconstructions, sceneries, etc); high school+¹ • Pterosaurs, M. Witton, 2013; English; 263 pages; images in color on almost every page (skeletal diagrams, photographs reconstructions, sceneries, etc); high school+ Marine Reptiles • Ancient sea reptiles, D. Naish, 2022; English; 185 pages; images in color on almost every page (skeletal diagrams, photographs reconstructions, sceneries, etc); high school+¹ Dinosaurs (children books) • Dinosaurier!, 1993; german²; collection of magazines; elementary-middle school • Mein großes Pop-Up-Buch der Dinosaurier, P. Watson, 2002; german; colorful pop up structures on every page/about 1-2 sentences description per page; 10 pop up sculpture/20 pages; pre-school • Wieso? Weshalb? Warum? - Alles über Dinosaurier, P. Mennen, 2000; german; colorful pictures on all pages, some parts of pages can be folded open to reveal additional images; 16 pages; pre-school-elementary school • Kinderwissen - Dinosaurier, B. Oftring, year unknown; german; colorful pictures on all pages; 125 pages; pre-school-elementary school • Bei den Dinosauriern, O. Maier, 2000/1993; german²; colorful pictures on all pages; 47 pages; elementary school-middle school • Sehen, Staunen, Wissen - Dinosaurier, S. Mitchell, S. Unstead, S. McKeever, 1989/2002; german²; colorful pictures and photographs on all pages; 63 pages; middle school • Die Spuren der Dinosaurier, N. Harris, S. Naoura, 2002; german²; colorful pictures (sceneries) on every page; 29 pages; pre-school-elementary school • Europasaurus, O. Wings, J. Knüppe, 2020; all text in german and English; graphic novel/colorful scenries on all pages; 181 pages; elementary school+ • Das Kosmos-Buch der Dinosaurier, K. P. Creamer, J.-C. Rost, 1992, german; colorful and b/w pictures on all pages; 92 pages; elementary school-middle school • Das große Buch der Saurier, P. Klepsch, T. Thiemeyer, 1989, german; colorful pictures on all pages; 60 pages; elementary school-middle school • Was ist was - Dinosaurier; J. Oppermann, 1999; german; colorful pictures on all pages; 47 pages; elementary school-middle school • Der große Ravensburger Atlas der Dinosaurier; S. Davidson, S. Turnbull, R. Firth, W. Hensel, 2004; german²; colorful pictures on all pages, maps showing fossil locations; 113 pages + 22 pages of data sheets; elementary school-middle school • 1000 Dinosaurier, H. Werner, year unknown, german, colorful pictures on all pages; 327 pages; elementary school-middle school • Der Dinosaurier im Fels, S. Vry, C. Lieb, 2023, german, colorful pictures on all pages; 105 pages; elementary school+ Dinosaurs (adult-ish) • Dinosaur Facts and Figures - The Theropods, R. Molina-Pérez, A. Barramundi, 2019, english; colorful pictures on the majority of pages (reconstructions, bones, etc), tables, data sheets; 285 pages; middle school+ • The Princeton Field Guide to Dinosaurs (2nd edition); G. S. Paul, 2016, english, images in color and b/w on almost every page (skeletal diagrams, reconstructions, sceneries, etc); 349 pages, high school+¹ • Dinosaurs - The most complete, up-to-date encyclopedia for Dinosaur lovers of all ages, T. R. Holtz, L. V. Rey, 2007, english; colorful pictures on all pages; 366 pages + 47 pages of dinosaur genus lists; middle school+ • Dinosaurs - The grand tour (2nd edition), K. Pim, F. Pastor, J. Horner, 2019, english; images on most pages (silhouettes, b/w reconstructions colorful sceneries), 356 pages, middle school+ • Aufstieg und der Fall der Dinosaurier (the rise and fall of thr dinosaurs), S. Brusatte, 2020, german², b/w photos and reconstructions on some pages, 361 pages, adults • Ausgestorben um zu bleiben, B. Kegel, 2018, german, b/w images on some pages, 257 pages, adults Earth's History (children) • Wundervolle Welt der Dinosaurier und der Urzeit, A. Chinsamy-Turan, 2021/2022, german², photograph of fossil+ colorful reconstruction on every double-page, 223 pages, elementary- middle school (+) • Alles über die Urzeit, R. M. Wood, 2002/1995, german², colorful pictures on all pages; 45 pages; elementary school • Leben in der Urzeit- Von den Dinosauriern bis zu den ersten Menschen, D. Editore, 1999, german; colorful pictures on all pages; 52 pages; elementary school • Was ist Was - Dinosaurie Der Urmensch, D. Gleis, 1982, german, colorful pictures on all pages; 92 pages; elementary school-middle school Earth's History (adult-ish) • Eine (sehr) kurze Geschichte des lebens (A (very) short history of life on eartg), H. Gee, 2021, german², some diagrams about geologic time scales, 246 pages, adults • Urwelten (otherlands), T. Halliday, 2022, german², a b/w map and reconstruction at the beginning of each chapter, 395 pages, adults • Locked in time, D. R. Lomax, B. Nicholls, 2021, english; 50 scenery reconstructions (one per chapter) and additional photos/diagrams, all in b/w; 286 pages³, high school + Prehistoric Mammals • The rise and reign of the mammals, S. Brusatte, 2023, german², b/w photos and reconstructions on some pages, 528 pages³, adults • The Prince field guide to prehistoric mammals, D. R. Prothero, M. P. Williams, 2017, english; colorful images/photos on almost every page (fossils, reconstructions, sceneries, etc); 230 pages, high school+¹ • Beasts before us, E. Panciroli, 2021, english; b/w sceneries at the beginning of each chapter, some additional diagrams, 8 center pages with colorful photographies; 298 pages; high school+/adults?¹ Cats • The big cats and their fossil relatives, A. Turner, M. Antón, 1997, english; b/w reconstructions, skeletal drawings and diagrams on almost every page, 16 center pages with colorful scenery reconstructions; 220 pages; high school+/adults?¹ Evolution of flight • Der Flug des Archaeopteryx, L. Bollen, 2008, german, colorful phots, reconstructions and diagrams on almost all pages; 259 pages; high school+/adults Extinction • Das 6. Sterben (The sixth extinction, 3rd edition), E. Kolbert, 2016/2021, german², b/w photos and illustrations on some pages, 271 pages, adults Speculative evolution • After man- a zoology of the future, D. Dixon, 1981, english, colorful illustrations on every page in the style of a nature guide, 119 pages, middle school+ • All yesterdays, J. Conway, C.M. Kosemen, D. Naish, 2012, english, colorful illustrations on all pages, some skeletal diagrams, 97 pages, middle school+¹ 1: haven't read it completely 2: English version also available 3: page count from amazon (a friend of mine has those books right no), all other page counts exclude the appendix/references/etc Age range is a very rough guess because a) I don't have kids, b) it's been a while since I was a child, c) we have a different school system (I used it roughly as pre school= under 6; elementary = 6-10, middle school = 12 ish, high school = 16ish, adult 18+) Sorry that so many of them are in german |
2024.05.18 11:06 FFRBP777 Chariot Chaos
Hey, so you ever get a birthday present that's so not your style, but you really can't return it because it'd be really awkward? Normally it's like, I dunno. Shoes, or shirts or something like that, right?
For me it was four fire-breathing horses.
Okay, so I should clarify. My dad didn't really give me four fire-breathing ponies to keep. It was more of a test for him to treat me like his son again.
See, I just recently got out of a Styx oath that would have led me to eternal damnation if I didn't fulfill it. It's a long story, but to keep it short: I swore an oath on the Styx to be a brave hero by my eighteenth birthday when I really should have just pinkie promised. But yeah. My dad, God of War and dad of the year took it well. …In that he pretty much said that I was a waste of space, disowned me and he'd personally hand me over to the Styx for eternal damnation.
Nice guy. Really should get into motivational speeches.
The night before, after riding the high of not having the threat of being sent to Super Hell I had a pretty bad dream. I mean, it wasn’t the normal David nightmare. It wasn't me killing endless hordes of monsters while my dad laughed at how pathetic I was.
Well, half of that. It was just my dad. To be honest, rather I’d take the monsters.
He was laughing at me, with that smug face of his, in that all-leather biker outfit with the shades that made him look even more like an asshole, as if that's hard to believe.
Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to cuss. Anyways yeah. Me and my dad. Not the best relationship, even by demigod standards.
He gave me a toothy grin, like a shark’s as he circled around me. I instinctively stood up straight, at attention. As much as I hate my dad, ticking off a god is a pretty dumb thing to do. Plus, I was pretty dumbfounded to see him here in my dream of all things.
“Well, color me surprised. To be honest, boy, I thought I'd end up taking care of this myself. So, congratulations on that front. But, sorry to burst your bubble, it might be good enough for ol’ Styxy but…it’s not good enough for me. But, you know, I'm a generous guy! Prove me you're a warrior. Do that, and I'll welcome you back in the family with open arms. I even got the perfect way for you to prove yourself.”
Without warning, he tossed me a set of keys with a miniature boar-headed keychain and a really big switchblade on the end of it. I fumbled with it before slipping it into my pocket.
“An oldie but a goodie. Used to let my sons prove themselves to me all the time with this one. Now, I'm sure once you see what I got planned you'll know the rules, considering you're a fuckin’ nerd. But in case you forget…”
He lowered his shades, revealing balls of fire as he glared right at me.
“Sundown. My temple. Don't be late or I'll toss you in the Styx myself. Well! Have fun, yeah? I'm looking forward to watching you fail this one, like your last quest. Now, get up. Clock’s ticking after all…”
“Gaah!”
I snapped my eyes open, falling out of my bed and onto the hard floor under me. As soon as I hit the floor, I could hear one of my many siblings start to stir from their sleep. Immediately, my sister Tiffany started to sigh as she shot up from her bed. I could see her pastel pink sleep mask perched on her head as she glared into the darkness of the early morning. She groaned in frustration, her words cutting through the quiet of the dawn.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?"
To be fair, I could see why she’d think that. Most of my siblings were fond of pranking each other every now and then. The chaos of the Ares cabin was unmatched from most cabins, except maybe Hermes. But, when you cut off her beauty sleep, the threat of an angry Tiff was usually was enough to make nighttime a truce. Usually.
My sister rubbed her eyes and looked down at me. I sheepishly gave a smile as I rubbed my head, still sore from when it hit the floor.
"Seriously, David?"
Tiffany got out of bed and silently made her way to me. She wordlessly held out a hand and I grasped at it as she pulled me up.
"Thanks Tiff. I had this dream, where Dad called me a nerd and was talking to me about testing me now that my Styx Oath is..."
I felt something hard and metallic poke against my leg, from my sweats pocket. I pulled out the unfamiliar object and to my surprise, there were the same keys from my dream. My eyes widened as I realized that my dream was a little bit more than usual demigod stuff.
"Oh. That...wasn't a dream."
She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the keys that sat in my hand. I played with the accessories, absentmindedly feeling the boar head and the switchblade knife. She leaned in, peering at the keys as the dawn started to rise.
"What the hell are those for?"
She looked to the keys, then back at my face, and then the keys again. She looked at me as if I just said that Kronos was about to come back and throw an ice cream party courtesy of the Titans.
"You're telling me Dad gave those to you or something? You're joking. Have to be."
I shook my head, but I could see why she thought so. I was pretty sure I was near the bottom, if not at the bottom of his list of favorite kids. If I was being honest, I was pretty sure he wanted me dead more than a few times.
"Tiff, you know that I'm not exactly Dad's favorite by a long shot. Why would I say something like that and risk him getting even mad more mad at me because of my lying? Dad disowned me, remember? He mentioned something along the line in my dream that if I pass his test I'd be treated as one of his sons again but he didn't mention what it..."
The gears started turning as I looked at the keys in my hands.
”A test…keys…sundown…oh no. Oh, no.”
I immediately pocketed up my keys and started putting on my shoes. No time for pants, sweats would do just fine, I just had to make sure to take my wallet with me, considering I was going to New York now. I had to be quick or this test was over before it even started.
"No. I...I think I know what it is. But if I'm right, then shoot I gotta get going then! Before our brothers take it."
In hindsight, I probably should have told Tiff a bit about my thoughts. But, the more I delayed the more issues that could have cropped up. I just had to make sure it was safe.
"Take what? Where the hell are you going?!"
I burst out of the cabin, staring at what was in front of our cabin. I felt a bit of nervousness bubble up as my thoughts were proven true. Tiffany was close behind me as she walked outside our cabin. I looked at her face and caught an expression of wonder as whatever she was going to ask me was forgotten. Parked in front of the cabin was a red and gold Harley. The seat was white leather and gave a sorta…humany vibe to it that I did not wanna think about. Only one thing came to mind, something I knew instinctively from the moment I saw it. Dad's War Chariot.
Or as the god of war would call it, his chariot.
"I...I think dad wants me to take his ride for a spin."
I ran my hand over the cold metal, and I realized what Dad meant about the “oldie but a goodie.” A while back, before the Second Titan war ended, and all of the children of the gods had to be claimed, there was a ritual all sons of Ares went through. It was something all my brothers did at fifteen. Drive around his Chariot and return it before sundown. It wasn't easy, my Godly siblings, Phobos and Deimos both loved to mess with whoever was in charge of the chariot at the time. And you had to deal with monsters too, but overall when it came to demigod stuff it wasn’t the most dangerous around. I dunno if that says a lot about how dangerous this life can get though.
But, shortly after the then-counselor Clarisse La Rue became the first girl to do it, Dad pulled the plug. I dunno if it was good ol’ sexism, someone totaling it, or dad not wanting to let all of his kids drive his ride, either way it wasn't super common nowadays. It wasn't like he stopped, but it was something given, not a right. Dad letting me do this was him at least giving me a chance to prove myself to be one of his kids, which was more than I expected to be honest.
I took a breath as I looked at Dad’s ride, feeling a pit of unease in my stomach as I started to climb in. If it wouldn't end up with me being tormented for the rest of my short life, I'd tell him no and go back to sleep. But, telling a god no, especially my dad is a neat way to be turned into a rodent. Or a fine red paste. Or a rodent that would be turned into said paste.
Tiffany's brows furrowed as she processed my words, a layer of disbelief on her face as she chewed over it.
You? He wants you to drive it? I...that...what the hell?"
I fought off a wince as she looked at me, then the ride, then back at me again. I could tell she was a bit annoyed. I mean, yeah from her perspective I was singled out by dad to do something she probably wanted to do for a while. I felt a pit of guilt in my stomach, it wasn't fair, really. But at the same time I had to do this.
"I mean, seriously? He must be out-"
She cut herself off. Calling my dad crazy was another way to get turned into a rat that would then be turned into a fine paste. Actually a lot of things carried the threat, my dad is kinda a jerk. I sighed, figuring I might as well tell her about why Dad was doing this. I didn't wanna hide it, but it's not like I like to talk about the fact that I've been disowned for two years. She knew, most of us did. But it's not something I like bringing up, because yeah. It sucks.
"I read a bit about previous Ares campers. He used to do this more often, at first only his sons did, but later his daughters could. I dunno why he stopped but, this isn't really like he's doing it because he's proud of me. I'm sorta disowned, remember? He said if I can drive the chariot, he'll take me back as one of you guys again. It's...more of a test to earn myself back into his good graces, I think.”
Tiffany listened to my explanation, not saying anything for a bit She looked a bit bothered about the fact that I was chosen to drive the Chariot, which again, not surprising.
"Ugh, I guess that makes sense."
I could hear the frustration in her voice as she crossed her arms. I winced again, preparing for her to resent or hate me. But to my surprise, I heard her add more in a softer voice.
"Well, don't get yourself killed trying to pass this stupid test, I don't want to have to explain to everyone why you're not coming back."
Her icy tone defrosted as she looked back at me with a bit of concern in her eyes. She seemed less annoyed and more worried about me, which was sweet. Not that I'd let her hear that. I hoped that maybe, dad would let her give it for a spin later down the road. If anyone deserved it, it would be her. I gave a nervous laugh as I took the keys out of my pocket.
"Of course, I passed my Styx Oath, didn't I? It'd be really dumb of me to die right after barely avoiding that, right? Oh, yeah. If Ellie asks for me, tell her about dad's little test he has for me. Hopefully it won't be too long but you know how it is with godly stuff. I should be back in time for us to hang out for the rest of my birthday once I do this for dad. I'll bring back something cool!”
I felt my trepidation fade away as I prepared to drive. Lots of my siblings dreamed of piloting the chariot. It wouldn't be right to reject the opportunity when it was given to me. And, who knows? Getting back in Dad's good graces (or as much as one can get in them) might help me out. At least I would have one less target on my back. As I sat down in the white leather seat, I put the keys in the ignition and instantly it began to morph.
OOC:Read this while listening to whats coming up
The front split apart into one steel horse that slowly split into two, and then four cream-colored horses that looked around with a cruel intelligence. The seat dipped, and warped before it became a horse-drawn chariot I was now standing in. The chariot was gold and blood red, adorned with the lovely images of people dying gruesome deaths, because Dad's taste in decor is somewhere between military surplus and serial killer, apparently.
“Okay…so, I need to get to Dad's temple before sundown. I don't know New York highways though, so how can I…oh hey! A gps!”
My fingers brushed against a touch screen set up on the chariot and punched The Intrepid into the coordinates. I gave one last wave to my sister before I lashed the horses and they immediately took off. I led them out of camp easily enough, but as we reached the highway they sped up to an impossible speed for a chariot. Their speed was even faster than any cars on the highway, rivaling the time that Aphrodite camper drove us to the beach once. I pulled back on the reins, trying to get them to slow down. Instead, they gave a rebellious snort and went even faster.
I would like to say that I embraced my inner Ares kid and relished the challenge. But I'm not going to lie, when you end up going past 80 MPH in a chariot, you tend to think you're going to die, fun fact. I screamed for most of the way, yanking and pulling at their reins so we could bob and weave through traffic.
It's a bit of a drive from Camp Half-Blood to New York City, I know it well, it’s a pretty common place for me to go for some monster slaying. But, up until now, I've been in the passenger seat while Argus drives. The speed of the horses really made the time go by faster. As we entered the city, the horses started to slow down and I felt a ray of hope as I started to steer them through the city. I gave a triumphant laugh as I looked down at my ETA. It was surprisingly quick, considering how congested New York can get. And I didn't see hide or hair of either one of my godly brothers, so I felt pretty good, all things considered.
“Huh. That's weird. There's not many cars today…my luck must be turning around!”
“Traffic update: Incoming Monsters. Rerouting. Cannot reroute.”
“Huh?”
Immediately, a massive boar the size of a garbage truck burst from a nearby alley way behind me. Behind the massive pig, two armored bank cars recklessly merged into traffic. One leaned out, revealing a gray-skinned human in body armor brandishing a shotgun.
“Of course! I had to open my big mouth! Is there anything that I’m going to have to deal with?”
“You are on the fastest route!”
“Well that’s just GREAT! Now I can be on the quickest way to the underworld!”
”Rerouting to: D.O.A. Records, Los Angeles.”
“Woah, woah, woah, no! Keep me on The Intrepid! The Intrepid!”
Seeing all these enemies together though, I started to put a thought in my head. They all had something in common, now that I saw them all in front of me. A boar was sacred to Ares, Spartoi too came from a dragon sacred to him. I put the pieces together as I saw the monsters come out of the woodwork and all to me. Now things made sense. The lack of Phobos and Deimos, the sacred beings to Ares, the lack of mortals on the street.
I didn't see my siblings because Dad wanted to mess with me personally.
Even now, I don't know if he wanted to test me in a Spartan way, or if he just wanted to get rid of me without kinslaying. Either way, I couldn't back down now. Not when I was so close. I snapped on the reins and the rebellious horses continued on their path, bickering and weaving left and right as they snorted and whinnied.
I heard the wiz of something traveling through the air and quickly moved out of the way. A metal feather hit the chariot, bouncing off the hull and onto the ground. I looked up and saw a few birds. They were black and crow-like, but their feathers had a metallic sheen, like iron. Their wings flapped and I heard the sound of metal on metal as they soared above me.
“Dad called in feather-shooters too? Come on!”
I steered left and right as I evaded the metal feathers shooting at me. The newcomers behind me quickly gained as I bobbed and weaved. I had to figure a way out of this, and fast. Problem was, I was quickly outnumbered and outmatched. I wasn't the best at archery, and my sword could shoot a blast of force, courtesy of the then Forgemaster. Main issue was it took a bit to charge, and I couldn't take them on so high up.
I couldn't run. I needed to fight out of this. But even if I could fight the two Spartoi and the big pig, the problem was the birds. I didn't have a ranged option…or did I? I looked to the horses, breathing embers as they huffed and pulled the chariot further on. Ares kids couldn't talk to horses, but these were godly horses. They seemed smarter than your average horse. Maybe I could talk them into behaving, the same way I got some of my siblings to listen to the plan during Capture the Flag.
“Hey guys, are you bored? I'm sure Dad and my brothers take all the good fights, huh? You know, if you guys continue fighting each other, I might lose this and you guys will miss out on a good fight.”
At first, I thought it fell on deaf ears. But then, they stopped their jostling and started to take a more unified path as we raced along the streets. Like I thought, they enjoyed a good fight as much as their owner did.
“That's what I like to see. Look, we're pretty surrounded right now. What do you say we rampage a bit before I take you guys home?”
An evil-sounding whinny came from the horses. I couldn’t really speak horse, but I took that as an okay and pointed at the birds above us. Did I feel stupid? Kinda. But as long as it worked, I couldn’t complain.
“See them? All yours. I'll cover you guys from the ground forces, and in exchange, you guys fall in line. Alright?”
A burst of fire came from one of the horses in response and I heard a loud squawk as it engulfed one of the feather-shooters. I breathed a sigh in relief as the rest of the birds started to scatter. They veered left and right in an attempt to avoid the flaming streams that were now sporadically being fired in their direction.
“Alright! Good job, I'll leave it to you!”
I gave a smile as I turned behind to my land-based foes, quickly gaining on me. I could hear the occasional woosh of fire as the horses fought the birds. One of the armored trucks caught up to my right and one of the spartoi leaned out of the vehicle. They aimed down the sights and pointed their shotgun at me.
“Sudden traffic in your area. You will be delayed by…five minutes. You are still on the fastest route!”
“Woah, that’s not fair! Come on Dad! A gun? Really!?”
I felt a tug in my stomach. It wasn’t something I could do a lot in a row without being exhausted, but I had some sorta pull when it came to weapons. When I gave a command, they were able to fall right out of their owner’s hands.
“Alright, let’s even the playerfield shall we?”
I held out my hand and they dropped it, the gun fell onto the ground, crushed by the wheels of the car. The second caught up to my left and once again, a spartoi leaned out of their car, weapon in hand.
“Another one!? Come on! How am I going to…”
I was jerked to the side as the horses suddenly veered right. At first, I thought it was the horses misbehaving again, but then a monstrous squeal came from behind me, rushing forwards.
Crash
I heard the sound of steel groaning as the boar rushed past the truck, pushing their truck out of the way as they aggressively charged forward. It was a good thing I managed to get out of the way, or else I would have been in trouble. I could see the spartoi shaking their fist as they spun out, their car massively dented with a massive gash in the armor. Now that I had to deal with two enemies, I decided to use the boar’s momentum to my advantage. I pulled back on the reins and the boar kept barreling on, too fast to stop as I made the chariot suddenly stop and then take a sudden turn away from the temple. The boar ran straight into a brick wall, seemingly dazed but otherwise okay.
”Rerouting...”
That temporarily took care of two of my enemies. Now that I had one to worry about, and my horses were pretty steady, I could start this fight in earnest. I kept one hand on the reins as I grabbed my Miku keychain. I unclipped it, and the keychain turned into a katana, with said keychain still on the bottom. It was my sword, Anime (I want to clarify, my friend Jules named it, not me). One of the Spartoi readied a spear and lunged at me. I parried it with my blade, and stabbed at their chest. I felt my blade plunge into their body. I pulled away at it, slashing at it again to tear it apart. To my disappointment though, the monster quickly reformed.
I don't know what I expected, to be honest. They wouldn't be much of an immortal soldier if they died after the first hit. But it bought me valuable time as we pushed forward. Almost as soon as its bones knit back together, it struck at me. I guarded once again, my sword starting to glow brighter and brighter with each strike. Our blades clashed and separated again and again for, I don’t know how long to be honest. I was putting up a good fight, but I just couldn’t gain the upperhand in that fight. For starters, if it was a monster or even a demigod it’d be ten ways to Tartarus at the moment. But, no matter how I sliced or diced it, the immortal soldier kept on coming back. Also, I just wasn't used to multitasking like that, I held on as tightly as I could, but the brief times I practiced Chariot combat with my friends Jules and Cel, I was either driving or fighting. Both at the same time was hard, and I was lucky that the horses were so cooperative.
I heard the whinny of one of the horses ahead as I looked back to the front. No sign of the birds meant that there was a few extra-crispy feather-shooters along the road somewhere, which was good news. But then, I looked out in front and realized that there was a big problem. One of the trucks we left behind somehow got in front of us, blocking the road with their car. Five spartoi were standing outside of the car, swords and spears drawn as they headed the chariot off.
At this moment, I knew I was screwed. I was too fast to just stop. And, even if I did stop, I’d have to deal with all the angry skeleton men chasing me down. I just winced, bracing for impact. But then, I heard a neigh as the horses pulling my chariot started to turn into steel and combined once more. The chariot started to shift, the creak of metal folding and turning. I quickly sheathed my sword as the reins turned into chrome handlebars which I gripped like my life depended on it. The chariot continued to morph until once again it was a motorcycle with flame patterns. I veered as left as I could, narrowly avoiding hitting the side of a nearby building as I sped past the skeletal blockade. I braked, motorcycle now turning back into the chariot form as I turned back and watched as the car that was chasing me slammed straight into the other.
The now pissed spartoi stumbled out of the wreckage and started to scream undead obscenities to each other. I couldn’t speak ghost, but whatever they said seemed to be pretty rude, because both sides started to unsheath their swords and get into an all-out brawl. One of the spartoi sliced the other in two, and they didn’t reform this time as their essence slid into their black sword.
Huh. Well, that was one way to deal with them.
“Whew! Good horses.”
I turned, ready to snap the reins once again, but I stopped as I saw what was waiting for me at the other end of the road. The boar, still very much on my trail stood in front of me. It pawed at the ground in front of it, and my horses started to do the same. I stared at the boar, unsheathing Anime once again as we stared off.
“Keep straight for…500 feet.”
The thing about boars is that they can be pretty deadly. They’re brutish and aggressive, and they go down fighting. You know the crossguard that’s near the pointy end of a spear? That’s so the animal doesn’t run up the spear to take you out with it. You don’t think them being that dangerous, but there’s a reason that dad’s symbol is a boar.
I had to make this quick, and efficient or I’d end up maimed, or worse. I snapped the reins one more time, and the horses started to dash down the street. The boar squealed as it barreled to me. I could see it get closer and closer. I grit my teeth, holding my blade in my right hand as it started to shine more and more brightly. My hand held onto the grip tightly, bracing for my next action.
I’d have one shot at this.
I miss, I’m dead.
I hesitate, I’m dead.
I don’t hit the vitals, I’m dead.
Time started to slow around me as I watched the boar rush at the chariot, enraged as it reached the point where there was no stopping it now. I could see the powerful muscles push and pull, the beast using all its power in an attempt to off me for good. I felt heat coming from the front as all four horses breathed a stream of flames at the swine. The boar kept on charging forwards, through the fire as the flames engulfed it. An angry squeal erupted from the inferno as it lept up from the sea of flames, still on fire as it used its strong legs to clear the horses and go straight for me.
Breathe in
I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I pulled my sword hand back. My blade shined brilliantly, even in the May sun. I watched it fall ever closer to me, the flames still eating away at the flesh. I stared into its ever-angry eyes, burning brighter than the flames surrounding it. I don’t falter. I’ve faced monsters that have crushed my bones. I don’t feel fear. I’ve fought creatures that could have killed me in five seconds. This is it. I need it to be perfect.
Breathe out.
SHING
I swung my blade and a rush of air followed it, making an arc that flew to the boar. I don’t doubt my skills. I simply watch, confident that this will end the monster once and for all. The blast, charged from my fight flew unimpeded. The beast’s chuffs turned into surprised squeal as it sliced the boar cleanly in two, bisecting it from the snout down. I sheathed my sword and put both hands back on the reins, eyes on the road as I barely watched what came next. The flaming boar started to fade into dust, still falling through the air until only a tusk was left. I held out my arm and caught it with my right hand.
“Oh hot, hot!”
I juggled it a bit with one hand before placing it down on the chariot floor. I grinned triumphantly as I realized what happened. Dad tried to test me, to see if I was “worthy” or he genuinely tried to kill me. Either way, I beat him this time, proving to him that I was more. That he underestimated me when we first met, that I was a brave warrior all along. In the end, I proved to him that I could fulfill my Styx oath even past what was expected of me. I laughed as I sped up, I felt pretty good about my victory. I wondered how his face would look, or if I could read his expression past his dumb sunglasses.
But as I rounded the corner, a terrifying sight came to my face as my glee turned to sorrow. I watched with horror as I realized Dad’s influence on the fight kept a more dangerous foe than any before at bay. Now that the fight was over, he had no reason to keep it around, and for once, I wasn’t sure if I could get through this unscathed. I gulped as I put my hands on the reins, not ready to face the impossible challenge alone. I hoped it wouldn’t break me as I prepared what little I had to fight this foe.
”There is an unusual amount of traffic in your area today.”
“Now you tell me…”
None other, than New York traffic.
I’d like to say that I did something else. Like I defeated an army of drakons on my way, or managed to fight off crazed demigods sent by my dad…but no. It was pretty much just traffic the rest of the way there. It was long and arduous, but I managed to make my way over to The Intrepid. After that traffic,I had to say, the amount of crazy drivers was almost San Francisco bad. I’d have taken as many spartoi and boars as dad could throw at me, if it meant I wasn’t drowning in the sea of cars. I drove down Pier 86, feeling a sense of relief as I got closer and closer to the aircraft carrier turned museum. As I got within eyeshot, I realized that dad said to take it to the temple, but not where to drop it off at.
It would be really stupid to end up failing just because I wasn’t sure where to leave dad’s ride. I got off the chariot, and was eyeing the prices of a ticket.
“Adults are thirty-six, Seniors and College Students…thirty four… Oh hey! Children of Ares get in free! Now, how do I wheel dad’s chariot through the front…”
Suddenly the side gate opened, lights flashing and clanging as it automatically retracted. The person standing in the booth waved me over and I hopped back onto the chariot, driving it by cautiously. They were dressed like a security guard, shades covering their eyes as they looked down onto their phone that they were absentmindedly playing with. Eyebrow piercings peeked out from behind the shades. They were tall, looked about early twenties, and seemed like your average bored museum guard, if not for that sorta godly aura I got from them.
“Take the chariot this way, Lord Ares will be at the end of Pier 86. Can’t miss him.”
I eyed the godling suspiciously. They seemed like one of those myriad younger and minor gods I saw when I was on Olympus. Not anyone I’d know, but if they wanted to stop me, it’d be annoying to get past them. They didn’t seem to be that dangerous, at least right now. But when you were a demigod, you learned to be wary of free handouts.
“Uh…look man, I’m going to be honest. I just got through some hellish traffic to get through here. So if like, you’re leading me into a trap or if my godly brothers are going to show up to try and take this, can you just start the fight and save me the trouble? It’s been a long morning, and I just wanna get this over with.”
I stared back at my reflection through their mirrored shades. Growing up, I always thought of myself as gangly and awkward. I could see my messed up hair, tousled from the wind. I stood tall, and although I wasn’t the buffest Ares kid around, you couldn’t call me skinny anymore. I looked almost heroic as I held the reins atop the chariot. Was that how I looked now? The godling shook their head as they chuckled, putting down their phone as they looked at me in the eyes.
“Kid, even for a god like Ares who likes conflict, you don’t do something like that in a temple. You can’t just attack his kid on his own grounds. Plus, it's part of the rules of war to respect neutralized zones. Trust me, you’re home free.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
He nodded and went back on his phone. I snapped on the reins and the chariot trotted along, even fire-breathing horses had to follow traffic laws apparently. I was on guard, not taking the godling’s words at face value. Mortals in a daze parted around the chariot, a few snapping pictures at me. I freaked out for a split second before I heard the tourists being in awe at what I heard to be a “vintage bomber”. Dumbfounded, I stopped for a brief second. It didn’t even have wings! But, I could see the mist shimmer around me and for a brief moment, see the silhouette of the plane around the chariot. It was an old fighter, a single propellor with flaming horse art on the nose.
“P-40B Warhawk? Alright, guess we’re working with that.”
I frowned a bit, trying to think if I knew that before this, from a school project or if it was more demigod shenanigans. I was never into fighter jets, but when you’re a demigod sometimes your parent’s godly influence shoves itself into your head and it’s always confusing when it does.
I drove the “plane” to the end of the pier, where I could see my dad sitting down on a barricade, blocking off a massive plane above him. It wasn’t used for war apparently, because I had no clue what type of plane it was. Looked cool though, it was really narrow around the nose end and the wings were all near the back end. He had a big wicked-looking combat knife in his hand that he used to clean his nails. He looked up at me, disinterestedly, before going back down to the knife.
“You’re alive.”
I couldn’t tell from his tone if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed… neutral. Like he was stating the sky was blue. But, overall I’d take that as a good thing, considering our last meeting. I spoke a bit warily, not sure if he was in a good or bad mood considering my victory.
“Uh, so Father. I’m finished with what you-”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not!? Do I need to do anything or-”
A moment of panic snuck up into my chest. For a brief moment I was afraid he was going to pull a twelve labors on me, but then he whistled and held out his hand.
“Not until you give me the keys kid, then it’s done.”
I hopped out of the chariot, the reins in my hand turning into keys as the horses went back into their motorcycle form. I somewhat clumsily tossed it to my dad, who grabbed it. He pushed himself off his perch, first making sure his motorcycle was unharmed. Then, he turned to me, eying me up and down as he circled around where I stood. I stood still, at attention as I felt my heart racing in my chest. I felt like a deer, cornered by a wolf just waiting to strike. Yet, the first pang of anxiety soon settled down. If he wanted to take care of me, he would have done so already. Or sent something more dangerous like a Drakon at me when I was driving. I felt my heart leap up into my throat as he clapped a big hand on my shoulder. The gesture wasn’t hostile, if anything, the motion seemed friendly. But his grip was anything but. His hand, like the claws of a tiger dug into my shoulder as he grinned at me.
“I have to say, I thought you were a lost cause, but look at you kid. Took you long enough, but I guess you have enough of me in you after all. Well, a late bloomer is better than being completely useless, but man! You were one of my most pathetic kids when you took that oath. I don’t think I had a kid as wimpy as you in a long time. Well, I’m glad my little nudge helped you keep that oath up after all. It would have been a waste of a perfectly good warrior if you didn’t shape up.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He helped me? He didn’t do anything! I wasn’t stupid enough to point it out, but I guess he knew what I was thinking as I felt his grip tighten as he growled.
“Come on, don’t give me that look, kid. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Tip of advice: don’t dip your toes into cards. You have a horrible poker face. Your mom was the same way. But, yes. I helped. Not that kids these days would understand. Parents these days are too soft, including most of us gods. Back in Sparta, we’d leave our kids to fend for themselves. Just give them barely enough food and let them hunt or steal the rest. If they end up dying in the hunt or starved, well that’s fine. They were too weak to do anything of note anyway. You should consider yourself lucky I was generous enough to just turn my back on you.”
He chuckled low, and my blood ran cold as he shook me. I shook my head, fighting off a wave of dizziness as he threatened to take off my arm.
“Oh, but that’s in the past! You passed your agōgē period, all by yourself. Now that is true strength.”
His evil grin widened as he gave me the closest thing to an approved look he’d ever given me. I furrowed my brow as I shook my head. This credit, it wasn’t mine to take, was it? Before I could think, I spoke what was on my mind.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t do this by myself. Everywhere I went, I had someone to help me out. If it wasn’t for the help from my friends, I don’t think I would be standing here. I didn’t-”
My dad’s good mood instantly soured as his grin warped into a snarl. His grip, although somewhat friendly now seemed dangerously tight as he frustratingly interrupted me.
“Oh for the love of! I’m complimenting you, kid. Look. I don’t care about those other twerps one way or another. Allies are fine enough in war, as long as you don’t make them do all the work. Kid, you’ve gotten strong all on your own, like a true son of mine. Don’t deny you and me the kleos you rightfully deserve ever again. Shut up and just take the honor.”
“I…uh…yes, Dad.”
I was surprised that all it accounted to was a mild scolding. My dad, too seemed to calm down after I agreed with his words, as he went back to a smile. He put his hand back into his pocket as he started to walk up to his chariot. He ran his finger across the chrome finish, taking out a cloth and cleaning off my fingerprints from the metal.
“About your joyride. Not bad, not bad at all. It took you a bit to embrace your birthright, but you ended up not even scratching my ride. Nice. Nice. Saves me the trouble of buffing it out. Now, if you could only stop complaining at everything that opposed you. You’re a man, aren’t you David? Start acting like it. If you think a bag of bones and a pig are hard, just wait until your future. The stronger a warrior gets, the stronger their foes get. Make sure you’re strong enough to stand up against them before you end up a stain on the pavement.”
I heard the engine rev as he got into the seat. He threw a bag at me that I clumsily fumbled with before I fully caught it. I opened it, and a few golden drachmas shined back at me.
“Since your agōgē finished up, consider yourself un-cut off. Even I’m not heartless enough to leave a son of mine stranded in New York. Keep the rest. Feel free to hang around my temple, and help yourself to the gift shop if you want, it’s on the house, happy birthday and all that. Just don’t go overboard.”
He turned the motorcycle, wheeling it around so he could leave the pier. He turned around, giving me a few more parting words he shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Don’t think you’re done yet, David. You got a lot more to grow. Especially now that you can receive my blessings again. What, did you think that taking a good hit was all you can do? You’ll see sooner or later. See ya kid! Don’t disappoint me.”
He revved his engine one more time and took off, leaving me behind on the pier. As I watched my dad leave, I realized that with that resolved, the last of what made my Styx Oath so suffocating was finally finished. A part of me felt that I’d always keep the consequences of it with me. Either dad would continue to disown me, or I’d be horribly injured from my jobs. But, to my surprise, everything worked out alright. I worked as hard as I could, and now everything was over, truly over. I…wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I mean, like obviously I didn’t wanna have them with me for the rest of my life. But, for all of my oath’s lifespan I had the deadline looming overhead, and my expectation was that something would happen to me as a result. I was glad to have it over with, but I never felt that I could relax until now. The feeling of not having the anxiety of my imminent demise was something I wasn’t familiar with, and to be honest I still have trouble relaxing. As he disappeared into the afternoon traffic, I realized that, so too did my previous life.
Maybe…maybe I could afford to enjoy my life now after all.
OOC: And there we have it! The final David storymode relevant to this storyline! I meant to have this yesterday but I didn't see the modmail that gave me the okay until literally an hour ago oop. Which means that yes, the Chariot and Ares both are approved from the mods.
Big thank you to Tiffany's writer, angelspoint for helping me with her parts, I had a blast working with them! Hope you enjoyed David's Victory lap!
submitted by FFRBP777 to CampHalfBloodRP [link] [comments]
For me it was four fire-breathing horses.
Okay, so I should clarify. My dad didn't really give me four fire-breathing ponies to keep. It was more of a test for him to treat me like his son again.
See, I just recently got out of a Styx oath that would have led me to eternal damnation if I didn't fulfill it. It's a long story, but to keep it short: I swore an oath on the Styx to be a brave hero by my eighteenth birthday when I really should have just pinkie promised. But yeah. My dad, God of War and dad of the year took it well. …In that he pretty much said that I was a waste of space, disowned me and he'd personally hand me over to the Styx for eternal damnation.
Nice guy. Really should get into motivational speeches.
The night before, after riding the high of not having the threat of being sent to Super Hell I had a pretty bad dream. I mean, it wasn’t the normal David nightmare. It wasn't me killing endless hordes of monsters while my dad laughed at how pathetic I was.
Well, half of that. It was just my dad. To be honest, rather I’d take the monsters.
He was laughing at me, with that smug face of his, in that all-leather biker outfit with the shades that made him look even more like an asshole, as if that's hard to believe.
Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to cuss. Anyways yeah. Me and my dad. Not the best relationship, even by demigod standards.
He gave me a toothy grin, like a shark’s as he circled around me. I instinctively stood up straight, at attention. As much as I hate my dad, ticking off a god is a pretty dumb thing to do. Plus, I was pretty dumbfounded to see him here in my dream of all things.
“Well, color me surprised. To be honest, boy, I thought I'd end up taking care of this myself. So, congratulations on that front. But, sorry to burst your bubble, it might be good enough for ol’ Styxy but…it’s not good enough for me. But, you know, I'm a generous guy! Prove me you're a warrior. Do that, and I'll welcome you back in the family with open arms. I even got the perfect way for you to prove yourself.”
Without warning, he tossed me a set of keys with a miniature boar-headed keychain and a really big switchblade on the end of it. I fumbled with it before slipping it into my pocket.
“An oldie but a goodie. Used to let my sons prove themselves to me all the time with this one. Now, I'm sure once you see what I got planned you'll know the rules, considering you're a fuckin’ nerd. But in case you forget…”
He lowered his shades, revealing balls of fire as he glared right at me.
“Sundown. My temple. Don't be late or I'll toss you in the Styx myself. Well! Have fun, yeah? I'm looking forward to watching you fail this one, like your last quest. Now, get up. Clock’s ticking after all…”
“Gaah!”
I snapped my eyes open, falling out of my bed and onto the hard floor under me. As soon as I hit the floor, I could hear one of my many siblings start to stir from their sleep. Immediately, my sister Tiffany started to sigh as she shot up from her bed. I could see her pastel pink sleep mask perched on her head as she glared into the darkness of the early morning. She groaned in frustration, her words cutting through the quiet of the dawn.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?"
To be fair, I could see why she’d think that. Most of my siblings were fond of pranking each other every now and then. The chaos of the Ares cabin was unmatched from most cabins, except maybe Hermes. But, when you cut off her beauty sleep, the threat of an angry Tiff was usually was enough to make nighttime a truce. Usually.
My sister rubbed her eyes and looked down at me. I sheepishly gave a smile as I rubbed my head, still sore from when it hit the floor.
"Seriously, David?"
Tiffany got out of bed and silently made her way to me. She wordlessly held out a hand and I grasped at it as she pulled me up.
"Thanks Tiff. I had this dream, where Dad called me a nerd and was talking to me about testing me now that my Styx Oath is..."
I felt something hard and metallic poke against my leg, from my sweats pocket. I pulled out the unfamiliar object and to my surprise, there were the same keys from my dream. My eyes widened as I realized that my dream was a little bit more than usual demigod stuff.
"Oh. That...wasn't a dream."
She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the keys that sat in my hand. I played with the accessories, absentmindedly feeling the boar head and the switchblade knife. She leaned in, peering at the keys as the dawn started to rise.
"What the hell are those for?"
She looked to the keys, then back at my face, and then the keys again. She looked at me as if I just said that Kronos was about to come back and throw an ice cream party courtesy of the Titans.
"You're telling me Dad gave those to you or something? You're joking. Have to be."
I shook my head, but I could see why she thought so. I was pretty sure I was near the bottom, if not at the bottom of his list of favorite kids. If I was being honest, I was pretty sure he wanted me dead more than a few times.
"Tiff, you know that I'm not exactly Dad's favorite by a long shot. Why would I say something like that and risk him getting even mad more mad at me because of my lying? Dad disowned me, remember? He mentioned something along the line in my dream that if I pass his test I'd be treated as one of his sons again but he didn't mention what it..."
The gears started turning as I looked at the keys in my hands.
”A test…keys…sundown…oh no. Oh, no.”
I immediately pocketed up my keys and started putting on my shoes. No time for pants, sweats would do just fine, I just had to make sure to take my wallet with me, considering I was going to New York now. I had to be quick or this test was over before it even started.
"No. I...I think I know what it is. But if I'm right, then shoot I gotta get going then! Before our brothers take it."
In hindsight, I probably should have told Tiff a bit about my thoughts. But, the more I delayed the more issues that could have cropped up. I just had to make sure it was safe.
"Take what? Where the hell are you going?!"
I burst out of the cabin, staring at what was in front of our cabin. I felt a bit of nervousness bubble up as my thoughts were proven true. Tiffany was close behind me as she walked outside our cabin. I looked at her face and caught an expression of wonder as whatever she was going to ask me was forgotten. Parked in front of the cabin was a red and gold Harley. The seat was white leather and gave a sorta…humany vibe to it that I did not wanna think about. Only one thing came to mind, something I knew instinctively from the moment I saw it. Dad's War Chariot.
Or as the god of war would call it, his chariot.
"I...I think dad wants me to take his ride for a spin."
I ran my hand over the cold metal, and I realized what Dad meant about the “oldie but a goodie.” A while back, before the Second Titan war ended, and all of the children of the gods had to be claimed, there was a ritual all sons of Ares went through. It was something all my brothers did at fifteen. Drive around his Chariot and return it before sundown. It wasn't easy, my Godly siblings, Phobos and Deimos both loved to mess with whoever was in charge of the chariot at the time. And you had to deal with monsters too, but overall when it came to demigod stuff it wasn’t the most dangerous around. I dunno if that says a lot about how dangerous this life can get though.
But, shortly after the then-counselor Clarisse La Rue became the first girl to do it, Dad pulled the plug. I dunno if it was good ol’ sexism, someone totaling it, or dad not wanting to let all of his kids drive his ride, either way it wasn't super common nowadays. It wasn't like he stopped, but it was something given, not a right. Dad letting me do this was him at least giving me a chance to prove myself to be one of his kids, which was more than I expected to be honest.
I took a breath as I looked at Dad’s ride, feeling a pit of unease in my stomach as I started to climb in. If it wouldn't end up with me being tormented for the rest of my short life, I'd tell him no and go back to sleep. But, telling a god no, especially my dad is a neat way to be turned into a rodent. Or a fine red paste. Or a rodent that would be turned into said paste.
Tiffany's brows furrowed as she processed my words, a layer of disbelief on her face as she chewed over it.
You? He wants you to drive it? I...that...what the hell?"
I fought off a wince as she looked at me, then the ride, then back at me again. I could tell she was a bit annoyed. I mean, yeah from her perspective I was singled out by dad to do something she probably wanted to do for a while. I felt a pit of guilt in my stomach, it wasn't fair, really. But at the same time I had to do this.
"I mean, seriously? He must be out-"
She cut herself off. Calling my dad crazy was another way to get turned into a rat that would then be turned into a fine paste. Actually a lot of things carried the threat, my dad is kinda a jerk. I sighed, figuring I might as well tell her about why Dad was doing this. I didn't wanna hide it, but it's not like I like to talk about the fact that I've been disowned for two years. She knew, most of us did. But it's not something I like bringing up, because yeah. It sucks.
"I read a bit about previous Ares campers. He used to do this more often, at first only his sons did, but later his daughters could. I dunno why he stopped but, this isn't really like he's doing it because he's proud of me. I'm sorta disowned, remember? He said if I can drive the chariot, he'll take me back as one of you guys again. It's...more of a test to earn myself back into his good graces, I think.”
Tiffany listened to my explanation, not saying anything for a bit She looked a bit bothered about the fact that I was chosen to drive the Chariot, which again, not surprising.
"Ugh, I guess that makes sense."
I could hear the frustration in her voice as she crossed her arms. I winced again, preparing for her to resent or hate me. But to my surprise, I heard her add more in a softer voice.
"Well, don't get yourself killed trying to pass this stupid test, I don't want to have to explain to everyone why you're not coming back."
Her icy tone defrosted as she looked back at me with a bit of concern in her eyes. She seemed less annoyed and more worried about me, which was sweet. Not that I'd let her hear that. I hoped that maybe, dad would let her give it for a spin later down the road. If anyone deserved it, it would be her. I gave a nervous laugh as I took the keys out of my pocket.
"Of course, I passed my Styx Oath, didn't I? It'd be really dumb of me to die right after barely avoiding that, right? Oh, yeah. If Ellie asks for me, tell her about dad's little test he has for me. Hopefully it won't be too long but you know how it is with godly stuff. I should be back in time for us to hang out for the rest of my birthday once I do this for dad. I'll bring back something cool!”
I felt my trepidation fade away as I prepared to drive. Lots of my siblings dreamed of piloting the chariot. It wouldn't be right to reject the opportunity when it was given to me. And, who knows? Getting back in Dad's good graces (or as much as one can get in them) might help me out. At least I would have one less target on my back. As I sat down in the white leather seat, I put the keys in the ignition and instantly it began to morph.
OOC:Read this while listening to whats coming up
The front split apart into one steel horse that slowly split into two, and then four cream-colored horses that looked around with a cruel intelligence. The seat dipped, and warped before it became a horse-drawn chariot I was now standing in. The chariot was gold and blood red, adorned with the lovely images of people dying gruesome deaths, because Dad's taste in decor is somewhere between military surplus and serial killer, apparently.
“Okay…so, I need to get to Dad's temple before sundown. I don't know New York highways though, so how can I…oh hey! A gps!”
My fingers brushed against a touch screen set up on the chariot and punched The Intrepid into the coordinates. I gave one last wave to my sister before I lashed the horses and they immediately took off. I led them out of camp easily enough, but as we reached the highway they sped up to an impossible speed for a chariot. Their speed was even faster than any cars on the highway, rivaling the time that Aphrodite camper drove us to the beach once. I pulled back on the reins, trying to get them to slow down. Instead, they gave a rebellious snort and went even faster.
I would like to say that I embraced my inner Ares kid and relished the challenge. But I'm not going to lie, when you end up going past 80 MPH in a chariot, you tend to think you're going to die, fun fact. I screamed for most of the way, yanking and pulling at their reins so we could bob and weave through traffic.
It's a bit of a drive from Camp Half-Blood to New York City, I know it well, it’s a pretty common place for me to go for some monster slaying. But, up until now, I've been in the passenger seat while Argus drives. The speed of the horses really made the time go by faster. As we entered the city, the horses started to slow down and I felt a ray of hope as I started to steer them through the city. I gave a triumphant laugh as I looked down at my ETA. It was surprisingly quick, considering how congested New York can get. And I didn't see hide or hair of either one of my godly brothers, so I felt pretty good, all things considered.
“Huh. That's weird. There's not many cars today…my luck must be turning around!”
“Traffic update: Incoming Monsters. Rerouting. Cannot reroute.”
“Huh?”
Immediately, a massive boar the size of a garbage truck burst from a nearby alley way behind me. Behind the massive pig, two armored bank cars recklessly merged into traffic. One leaned out, revealing a gray-skinned human in body armor brandishing a shotgun.
“Of course! I had to open my big mouth! Is there anything that I’m going to have to deal with?”
“You are on the fastest route!”
“Well that’s just GREAT! Now I can be on the quickest way to the underworld!”
”Rerouting to: D.O.A. Records, Los Angeles.”
“Woah, woah, woah, no! Keep me on The Intrepid! The Intrepid!”
Seeing all these enemies together though, I started to put a thought in my head. They all had something in common, now that I saw them all in front of me. A boar was sacred to Ares, Spartoi too came from a dragon sacred to him. I put the pieces together as I saw the monsters come out of the woodwork and all to me. Now things made sense. The lack of Phobos and Deimos, the sacred beings to Ares, the lack of mortals on the street.
I didn't see my siblings because Dad wanted to mess with me personally.
Even now, I don't know if he wanted to test me in a Spartan way, or if he just wanted to get rid of me without kinslaying. Either way, I couldn't back down now. Not when I was so close. I snapped on the reins and the rebellious horses continued on their path, bickering and weaving left and right as they snorted and whinnied.
I heard the wiz of something traveling through the air and quickly moved out of the way. A metal feather hit the chariot, bouncing off the hull and onto the ground. I looked up and saw a few birds. They were black and crow-like, but their feathers had a metallic sheen, like iron. Their wings flapped and I heard the sound of metal on metal as they soared above me.
“Dad called in feather-shooters too? Come on!”
I steered left and right as I evaded the metal feathers shooting at me. The newcomers behind me quickly gained as I bobbed and weaved. I had to figure a way out of this, and fast. Problem was, I was quickly outnumbered and outmatched. I wasn't the best at archery, and my sword could shoot a blast of force, courtesy of the then Forgemaster. Main issue was it took a bit to charge, and I couldn't take them on so high up.
I couldn't run. I needed to fight out of this. But even if I could fight the two Spartoi and the big pig, the problem was the birds. I didn't have a ranged option…or did I? I looked to the horses, breathing embers as they huffed and pulled the chariot further on. Ares kids couldn't talk to horses, but these were godly horses. They seemed smarter than your average horse. Maybe I could talk them into behaving, the same way I got some of my siblings to listen to the plan during Capture the Flag.
“Hey guys, are you bored? I'm sure Dad and my brothers take all the good fights, huh? You know, if you guys continue fighting each other, I might lose this and you guys will miss out on a good fight.”
At first, I thought it fell on deaf ears. But then, they stopped their jostling and started to take a more unified path as we raced along the streets. Like I thought, they enjoyed a good fight as much as their owner did.
“That's what I like to see. Look, we're pretty surrounded right now. What do you say we rampage a bit before I take you guys home?”
An evil-sounding whinny came from the horses. I couldn’t really speak horse, but I took that as an okay and pointed at the birds above us. Did I feel stupid? Kinda. But as long as it worked, I couldn’t complain.
“See them? All yours. I'll cover you guys from the ground forces, and in exchange, you guys fall in line. Alright?”
A burst of fire came from one of the horses in response and I heard a loud squawk as it engulfed one of the feather-shooters. I breathed a sigh in relief as the rest of the birds started to scatter. They veered left and right in an attempt to avoid the flaming streams that were now sporadically being fired in their direction.
“Alright! Good job, I'll leave it to you!”
I gave a smile as I turned behind to my land-based foes, quickly gaining on me. I could hear the occasional woosh of fire as the horses fought the birds. One of the armored trucks caught up to my right and one of the spartoi leaned out of the vehicle. They aimed down the sights and pointed their shotgun at me.
“Sudden traffic in your area. You will be delayed by…five minutes. You are still on the fastest route!”
“Woah, that’s not fair! Come on Dad! A gun? Really!?”
I felt a tug in my stomach. It wasn’t something I could do a lot in a row without being exhausted, but I had some sorta pull when it came to weapons. When I gave a command, they were able to fall right out of their owner’s hands.
“Alright, let’s even the playerfield shall we?”
I held out my hand and they dropped it, the gun fell onto the ground, crushed by the wheels of the car. The second caught up to my left and once again, a spartoi leaned out of their car, weapon in hand.
“Another one!? Come on! How am I going to…”
I was jerked to the side as the horses suddenly veered right. At first, I thought it was the horses misbehaving again, but then a monstrous squeal came from behind me, rushing forwards.
Crash
I heard the sound of steel groaning as the boar rushed past the truck, pushing their truck out of the way as they aggressively charged forward. It was a good thing I managed to get out of the way, or else I would have been in trouble. I could see the spartoi shaking their fist as they spun out, their car massively dented with a massive gash in the armor. Now that I had to deal with two enemies, I decided to use the boar’s momentum to my advantage. I pulled back on the reins and the boar kept barreling on, too fast to stop as I made the chariot suddenly stop and then take a sudden turn away from the temple. The boar ran straight into a brick wall, seemingly dazed but otherwise okay.
”Rerouting...”
That temporarily took care of two of my enemies. Now that I had one to worry about, and my horses were pretty steady, I could start this fight in earnest. I kept one hand on the reins as I grabbed my Miku keychain. I unclipped it, and the keychain turned into a katana, with said keychain still on the bottom. It was my sword, Anime (I want to clarify, my friend Jules named it, not me). One of the Spartoi readied a spear and lunged at me. I parried it with my blade, and stabbed at their chest. I felt my blade plunge into their body. I pulled away at it, slashing at it again to tear it apart. To my disappointment though, the monster quickly reformed.
I don't know what I expected, to be honest. They wouldn't be much of an immortal soldier if they died after the first hit. But it bought me valuable time as we pushed forward. Almost as soon as its bones knit back together, it struck at me. I guarded once again, my sword starting to glow brighter and brighter with each strike. Our blades clashed and separated again and again for, I don’t know how long to be honest. I was putting up a good fight, but I just couldn’t gain the upperhand in that fight. For starters, if it was a monster or even a demigod it’d be ten ways to Tartarus at the moment. But, no matter how I sliced or diced it, the immortal soldier kept on coming back. Also, I just wasn't used to multitasking like that, I held on as tightly as I could, but the brief times I practiced Chariot combat with my friends Jules and Cel, I was either driving or fighting. Both at the same time was hard, and I was lucky that the horses were so cooperative.
I heard the whinny of one of the horses ahead as I looked back to the front. No sign of the birds meant that there was a few extra-crispy feather-shooters along the road somewhere, which was good news. But then, I looked out in front and realized that there was a big problem. One of the trucks we left behind somehow got in front of us, blocking the road with their car. Five spartoi were standing outside of the car, swords and spears drawn as they headed the chariot off.
At this moment, I knew I was screwed. I was too fast to just stop. And, even if I did stop, I’d have to deal with all the angry skeleton men chasing me down. I just winced, bracing for impact. But then, I heard a neigh as the horses pulling my chariot started to turn into steel and combined once more. The chariot started to shift, the creak of metal folding and turning. I quickly sheathed my sword as the reins turned into chrome handlebars which I gripped like my life depended on it. The chariot continued to morph until once again it was a motorcycle with flame patterns. I veered as left as I could, narrowly avoiding hitting the side of a nearby building as I sped past the skeletal blockade. I braked, motorcycle now turning back into the chariot form as I turned back and watched as the car that was chasing me slammed straight into the other.
The now pissed spartoi stumbled out of the wreckage and started to scream undead obscenities to each other. I couldn’t speak ghost, but whatever they said seemed to be pretty rude, because both sides started to unsheath their swords and get into an all-out brawl. One of the spartoi sliced the other in two, and they didn’t reform this time as their essence slid into their black sword.
Huh. Well, that was one way to deal with them.
“Whew! Good horses.”
I turned, ready to snap the reins once again, but I stopped as I saw what was waiting for me at the other end of the road. The boar, still very much on my trail stood in front of me. It pawed at the ground in front of it, and my horses started to do the same. I stared at the boar, unsheathing Anime once again as we stared off.
“Keep straight for…500 feet.”
The thing about boars is that they can be pretty deadly. They’re brutish and aggressive, and they go down fighting. You know the crossguard that’s near the pointy end of a spear? That’s so the animal doesn’t run up the spear to take you out with it. You don’t think them being that dangerous, but there’s a reason that dad’s symbol is a boar.
I had to make this quick, and efficient or I’d end up maimed, or worse. I snapped the reins one more time, and the horses started to dash down the street. The boar squealed as it barreled to me. I could see it get closer and closer. I grit my teeth, holding my blade in my right hand as it started to shine more and more brightly. My hand held onto the grip tightly, bracing for my next action.
I’d have one shot at this.
I miss, I’m dead.
I hesitate, I’m dead.
I don’t hit the vitals, I’m dead.
Time started to slow around me as I watched the boar rush at the chariot, enraged as it reached the point where there was no stopping it now. I could see the powerful muscles push and pull, the beast using all its power in an attempt to off me for good. I felt heat coming from the front as all four horses breathed a stream of flames at the swine. The boar kept on charging forwards, through the fire as the flames engulfed it. An angry squeal erupted from the inferno as it lept up from the sea of flames, still on fire as it used its strong legs to clear the horses and go straight for me.
Breathe in
I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I pulled my sword hand back. My blade shined brilliantly, even in the May sun. I watched it fall ever closer to me, the flames still eating away at the flesh. I stared into its ever-angry eyes, burning brighter than the flames surrounding it. I don’t falter. I’ve faced monsters that have crushed my bones. I don’t feel fear. I’ve fought creatures that could have killed me in five seconds. This is it. I need it to be perfect.
Breathe out.
SHING
I swung my blade and a rush of air followed it, making an arc that flew to the boar. I don’t doubt my skills. I simply watch, confident that this will end the monster once and for all. The blast, charged from my fight flew unimpeded. The beast’s chuffs turned into surprised squeal as it sliced the boar cleanly in two, bisecting it from the snout down. I sheathed my sword and put both hands back on the reins, eyes on the road as I barely watched what came next. The flaming boar started to fade into dust, still falling through the air until only a tusk was left. I held out my arm and caught it with my right hand.
“Oh hot, hot!”
I juggled it a bit with one hand before placing it down on the chariot floor. I grinned triumphantly as I realized what happened. Dad tried to test me, to see if I was “worthy” or he genuinely tried to kill me. Either way, I beat him this time, proving to him that I was more. That he underestimated me when we first met, that I was a brave warrior all along. In the end, I proved to him that I could fulfill my Styx oath even past what was expected of me. I laughed as I sped up, I felt pretty good about my victory. I wondered how his face would look, or if I could read his expression past his dumb sunglasses.
But as I rounded the corner, a terrifying sight came to my face as my glee turned to sorrow. I watched with horror as I realized Dad’s influence on the fight kept a more dangerous foe than any before at bay. Now that the fight was over, he had no reason to keep it around, and for once, I wasn’t sure if I could get through this unscathed. I gulped as I put my hands on the reins, not ready to face the impossible challenge alone. I hoped it wouldn’t break me as I prepared what little I had to fight this foe.
”There is an unusual amount of traffic in your area today.”
“Now you tell me…”
None other, than New York traffic.
It would be really stupid to end up failing just because I wasn’t sure where to leave dad’s ride. I got off the chariot, and was eyeing the prices of a ticket.
“Adults are thirty-six, Seniors and College Students…thirty four… Oh hey! Children of Ares get in free! Now, how do I wheel dad’s chariot through the front…”
Suddenly the side gate opened, lights flashing and clanging as it automatically retracted. The person standing in the booth waved me over and I hopped back onto the chariot, driving it by cautiously. They were dressed like a security guard, shades covering their eyes as they looked down onto their phone that they were absentmindedly playing with. Eyebrow piercings peeked out from behind the shades. They were tall, looked about early twenties, and seemed like your average bored museum guard, if not for that sorta godly aura I got from them.
“Take the chariot this way, Lord Ares will be at the end of Pier 86. Can’t miss him.”
I eyed the godling suspiciously. They seemed like one of those myriad younger and minor gods I saw when I was on Olympus. Not anyone I’d know, but if they wanted to stop me, it’d be annoying to get past them. They didn’t seem to be that dangerous, at least right now. But when you were a demigod, you learned to be wary of free handouts.
“Uh…look man, I’m going to be honest. I just got through some hellish traffic to get through here. So if like, you’re leading me into a trap or if my godly brothers are going to show up to try and take this, can you just start the fight and save me the trouble? It’s been a long morning, and I just wanna get this over with.”
I stared back at my reflection through their mirrored shades. Growing up, I always thought of myself as gangly and awkward. I could see my messed up hair, tousled from the wind. I stood tall, and although I wasn’t the buffest Ares kid around, you couldn’t call me skinny anymore. I looked almost heroic as I held the reins atop the chariot. Was that how I looked now? The godling shook their head as they chuckled, putting down their phone as they looked at me in the eyes.
“Kid, even for a god like Ares who likes conflict, you don’t do something like that in a temple. You can’t just attack his kid on his own grounds. Plus, it's part of the rules of war to respect neutralized zones. Trust me, you’re home free.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
He nodded and went back on his phone. I snapped on the reins and the chariot trotted along, even fire-breathing horses had to follow traffic laws apparently. I was on guard, not taking the godling’s words at face value. Mortals in a daze parted around the chariot, a few snapping pictures at me. I freaked out for a split second before I heard the tourists being in awe at what I heard to be a “vintage bomber”. Dumbfounded, I stopped for a brief second. It didn’t even have wings! But, I could see the mist shimmer around me and for a brief moment, see the silhouette of the plane around the chariot. It was an old fighter, a single propellor with flaming horse art on the nose.
“P-40B Warhawk? Alright, guess we’re working with that.”
I frowned a bit, trying to think if I knew that before this, from a school project or if it was more demigod shenanigans. I was never into fighter jets, but when you’re a demigod sometimes your parent’s godly influence shoves itself into your head and it’s always confusing when it does.
I drove the “plane” to the end of the pier, where I could see my dad sitting down on a barricade, blocking off a massive plane above him. It wasn’t used for war apparently, because I had no clue what type of plane it was. Looked cool though, it was really narrow around the nose end and the wings were all near the back end. He had a big wicked-looking combat knife in his hand that he used to clean his nails. He looked up at me, disinterestedly, before going back down to the knife.
“You’re alive.”
I couldn’t tell from his tone if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed… neutral. Like he was stating the sky was blue. But, overall I’d take that as a good thing, considering our last meeting. I spoke a bit warily, not sure if he was in a good or bad mood considering my victory.
“Uh, so Father. I’m finished with what you-”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not!? Do I need to do anything or-”
A moment of panic snuck up into my chest. For a brief moment I was afraid he was going to pull a twelve labors on me, but then he whistled and held out his hand.
“Not until you give me the keys kid, then it’s done.”
I hopped out of the chariot, the reins in my hand turning into keys as the horses went back into their motorcycle form. I somewhat clumsily tossed it to my dad, who grabbed it. He pushed himself off his perch, first making sure his motorcycle was unharmed. Then, he turned to me, eying me up and down as he circled around where I stood. I stood still, at attention as I felt my heart racing in my chest. I felt like a deer, cornered by a wolf just waiting to strike. Yet, the first pang of anxiety soon settled down. If he wanted to take care of me, he would have done so already. Or sent something more dangerous like a Drakon at me when I was driving. I felt my heart leap up into my throat as he clapped a big hand on my shoulder. The gesture wasn’t hostile, if anything, the motion seemed friendly. But his grip was anything but. His hand, like the claws of a tiger dug into my shoulder as he grinned at me.
“I have to say, I thought you were a lost cause, but look at you kid. Took you long enough, but I guess you have enough of me in you after all. Well, a late bloomer is better than being completely useless, but man! You were one of my most pathetic kids when you took that oath. I don’t think I had a kid as wimpy as you in a long time. Well, I’m glad my little nudge helped you keep that oath up after all. It would have been a waste of a perfectly good warrior if you didn’t shape up.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He helped me? He didn’t do anything! I wasn’t stupid enough to point it out, but I guess he knew what I was thinking as I felt his grip tighten as he growled.
“Come on, don’t give me that look, kid. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Tip of advice: don’t dip your toes into cards. You have a horrible poker face. Your mom was the same way. But, yes. I helped. Not that kids these days would understand. Parents these days are too soft, including most of us gods. Back in Sparta, we’d leave our kids to fend for themselves. Just give them barely enough food and let them hunt or steal the rest. If they end up dying in the hunt or starved, well that’s fine. They were too weak to do anything of note anyway. You should consider yourself lucky I was generous enough to just turn my back on you.”
He chuckled low, and my blood ran cold as he shook me. I shook my head, fighting off a wave of dizziness as he threatened to take off my arm.
“Oh, but that’s in the past! You passed your agōgē period, all by yourself. Now that is true strength.”
His evil grin widened as he gave me the closest thing to an approved look he’d ever given me. I furrowed my brow as I shook my head. This credit, it wasn’t mine to take, was it? Before I could think, I spoke what was on my mind.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t do this by myself. Everywhere I went, I had someone to help me out. If it wasn’t for the help from my friends, I don’t think I would be standing here. I didn’t-”
My dad’s good mood instantly soured as his grin warped into a snarl. His grip, although somewhat friendly now seemed dangerously tight as he frustratingly interrupted me.
“Oh for the love of! I’m complimenting you, kid. Look. I don’t care about those other twerps one way or another. Allies are fine enough in war, as long as you don’t make them do all the work. Kid, you’ve gotten strong all on your own, like a true son of mine. Don’t deny you and me the kleos you rightfully deserve ever again. Shut up and just take the honor.”
“I…uh…yes, Dad.”
I was surprised that all it accounted to was a mild scolding. My dad, too seemed to calm down after I agreed with his words, as he went back to a smile. He put his hand back into his pocket as he started to walk up to his chariot. He ran his finger across the chrome finish, taking out a cloth and cleaning off my fingerprints from the metal.
“About your joyride. Not bad, not bad at all. It took you a bit to embrace your birthright, but you ended up not even scratching my ride. Nice. Nice. Saves me the trouble of buffing it out. Now, if you could only stop complaining at everything that opposed you. You’re a man, aren’t you David? Start acting like it. If you think a bag of bones and a pig are hard, just wait until your future. The stronger a warrior gets, the stronger their foes get. Make sure you’re strong enough to stand up against them before you end up a stain on the pavement.”
I heard the engine rev as he got into the seat. He threw a bag at me that I clumsily fumbled with before I fully caught it. I opened it, and a few golden drachmas shined back at me.
“Since your agōgē finished up, consider yourself un-cut off. Even I’m not heartless enough to leave a son of mine stranded in New York. Keep the rest. Feel free to hang around my temple, and help yourself to the gift shop if you want, it’s on the house, happy birthday and all that. Just don’t go overboard.”
He turned the motorcycle, wheeling it around so he could leave the pier. He turned around, giving me a few more parting words he shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Don’t think you’re done yet, David. You got a lot more to grow. Especially now that you can receive my blessings again. What, did you think that taking a good hit was all you can do? You’ll see sooner or later. See ya kid! Don’t disappoint me.”
He revved his engine one more time and took off, leaving me behind on the pier. As I watched my dad leave, I realized that with that resolved, the last of what made my Styx Oath so suffocating was finally finished. A part of me felt that I’d always keep the consequences of it with me. Either dad would continue to disown me, or I’d be horribly injured from my jobs. But, to my surprise, everything worked out alright. I worked as hard as I could, and now everything was over, truly over. I…wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I mean, like obviously I didn’t wanna have them with me for the rest of my life. But, for all of my oath’s lifespan I had the deadline looming overhead, and my expectation was that something would happen to me as a result. I was glad to have it over with, but I never felt that I could relax until now. The feeling of not having the anxiety of my imminent demise was something I wasn’t familiar with, and to be honest I still have trouble relaxing. As he disappeared into the afternoon traffic, I realized that, so too did my previous life.
Maybe…maybe I could afford to enjoy my life now after all.
Big thank you to Tiffany's writer, angelspoint for helping me with her parts, I had a blast working with them! Hope you enjoyed David's Victory lap!
2024.05.18 06:00 G_hano Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH)
 | Introduction submitted by G_hano to Mewtropics [link] [comments] Craniofacial development is influenced by a complex interplay of epigenetic, environmental, and functional factors. While genetics have traditionally been considered the primary determinant of facial morphology, recent insights from the field of functional craniofacial biology suggest a significant role for mechanical forces exerted by soft tissues. Building on this foundation, the Functional Matrix Hypothesis introduced by Melvin Moss highlights that craniofacial structures do not develop in isolation but as adaptive responses to the functional demands of surrounding soft tissues. The Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH) further explores this concept by focusing on how specific functions of the lips—ranging from habitual expressions and postures to subconscious movements—might influence the development and final morphology of the chin due to labiomental folding. This hypothesis posits that sustained lip activities, mediated through the mechanics of the associated muscles, particularly the mentalis, could have a formative impact on chin morphology through continuous mechanical stimulation and remodeling. This investigation seeks to elucidate the potential causal relationships between lip function and chin development. By empirically examining the variations in lip activity and correlating these with differences in chin structure among individuals, the LFCMH aims to offer new perspectives on craniofacial morphogenesis, providing insights that could influence both theoretical understanding and clinical practices in dental and orthodontic fields. MethodsImage Acquisition and Selection: Photographs were obtained from publicly accessible online databases, ensuring compliance with ethical standards regarding privacy and consent. Selection criteria focused on clear visibility of both lip posture and chin morphology. Images depicting a variety of lip postures were prioritized to ensure a comprehensive analysis. Subjects’ identities were anonymized to maintain confidentiality.Defining Analytical Parameters: Lip postures were categorized into distinct groups: neutral, tense, and protruded, based on visible muscular engagement and positioning. Chin morphology was assessed by examining attributes such as projection, contour, and strain. This classification facilitated a structured comparison of the relationship between lip posture and chin morphology. Analytical Process: A visual analysis approach was adopted to evaluate the selected images. Each photograph was examined manually to identify and record the observed lip postures and corresponding chin features. The assessment criteria included:
Inter-Observer Reliability To enhance reliability, multiple reviewers independently assessed the images. Discrepancies in observations were discussed and resolved through consensus, ensuring that the recorded data accurately reflected the visual assessments. Statistical Analysis Given the visual nature of the analysis, descriptive statistics were primarily used to summarize the data. Correlation analysis was conducted to explore potential associations between different lip postures and chin morphology characteristics. This analysis aimed to identify patterns that support the Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH). Ethical Considerations The study adhered to ethical guidelines for research involving visual data. All images were anonymized to protect subject privacy, and no identifying information was retained. The research protocol was reviewed and approved by an institutional review board to ensure ethical compliance. ResultsOverview of Findings: A total of 142 images were analyzed to explore the relationship between lip posture and chin morphology. The images were categorized based on the observed condition of the mentalis muscle, which was either strained and wrinkled due to protruded lips or relaxed with a good lip seal. This categorization aimed to distinguish between "prominent" chins, characterized by a prominent and well-defined chin profile, and "recessed" chins, marked by visible strain in the mentalis muscle and less prominence.Categorization of Lip Postures and Chin Morphology 1. Protruded Lip Posture with Strained Mentalis Muscle
https://preview.redd.it/7jewpz4tx31d1.png?width=347&format=png&auto=webp&s=73350323c93b04c50b62bc919a0fdd8480935fc0 https://preview.redd.it/2vsne05tx31d1.png?width=233&format=png&auto=webp&s=480c57ea725e7c20949e1afdba70d4c53ac7f085 https://preview.redd.it/opjln05tx31d1.png?width=188&format=png&auto=webp&s=6e7f59f3b7865bb43fef0e11b4275c76783b1252 https://preview.redd.it/2fhtwg5tx31d1.png?width=174&format=png&auto=webp&s=526788b0ca4bc7969b98bbf263bd8322fdcfa8dc https://preview.redd.it/lsg1865tx31d1.png?width=351&format=png&auto=webp&s=bc3e340fe9a8647f1b997519644f481183e38fd8 2. Good Lip Seal with Relaxed Mentalis Muscle
https://preview.redd.it/e2k6m49xx31d1.png?width=195&format=png&auto=webp&s=9612bcf50fa6aa728113b252078c1ef1c1d91d7e https://preview.redd.it/vay0lz8xx31d1.png?width=181&format=png&auto=webp&s=774e90e60f1c1bb6fb5674a894f85b485e3d006d https://preview.redd.it/dwxm3z8xx31d1.png?width=124&format=png&auto=webp&s=b3d6d63b4c947c69da72b22bbd4bc0d1bd2d477b Correlation Analysis The visual assessment revealed notable patterns correlating lip posture with chin morphology:
DiscussionInterpretation of FindingsThe findings from this study provide observational support for the Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH). The analysis of lip posture and functional lip activity, particularly during dynamic expressions such as laughing and speaking, suggests a significant relationship between these behaviors and the resulting chin morphology. Individuals with strong chins tend to exhibit specific lip postures and functional behaviors that promote a prominent and well-defined chin. Conversely, those with weaker chins often lack these behaviors, resulting in a less pronounced chin profile. Functional Matrix Theory The results can be contextualized within the framework of the Functional Matrix Theory, which posits that skeletal structures develop in response to the functional demands placed upon them by the surrounding soft tissues. This theory emphasizes that bones do not grow independently but rather as adaptive responses to the mechanical forces exerted by the muscles and other tissues around them. Impact of Lip Posture on The Labiomental FoldA key indicator of chin prominence observed in this study is the depth and definition of the labiomental fold—the crease between the lower lip and the chin. A deeper labiomental fold with a sharper angle is often associated with a stronger, more prominent chin. This fold is influenced by the activity of the mentalis muscle and the overall usage of the lower lip.The findings suggest that individuals with a prominent chin often maintain a lip posture that keeps the lower lip, or more specifically, the lower orbicularis oris muscle in a neutral or slightly pressed position against the lower teeth. This posture engages the mentalis muscle in a balanced manner, promoting the development of a well-defined labiomental fold. Additionally, during dynamic expressions such as laughing or speaking, the functional behavior of pressing the lower orbicularis oris muscle against the lower incisor region further reinforces the prominence of the chin and the depth of the labiomental fold. Conversely, individuals with a recessed chin typically do not engage the mentalis muscle or the lower orbicularis oris muscle in the same way. Their lip posture tends to be more relaxed or protruded, leading to more mentalis muscle strain and a shallower labiomental fold. This lack of consistent muscle engagement and the absence of reinforcing and even opposing behaviors during dynamic expressions contribute to a weaker chin profile. Clinical Implications Understanding the relationship between lip posture, functional lip activity, and chin morphology has significant clinical implications. Orthodontists and facial aesthetic practitioners can leverage this knowledge to develop interventions aimed at improving chin prominence. Techniques that encourage better lip posture and functional engagement of the mentalis muscle could potentially enhance chin development in individuals with weaker chins. Future Research While this study provides valuable insights, further research is needed to substantiate these findings. Experimental studies with larger sample sizes and longitudinal designs would help establish causal relationships and explore the underlying mechanisms in greater detail. Additionally, advanced imaging techniques could provide more precise measurements of the labiomental fold and chin morphology, enhancing the robustness of future studies. ConclusionThe Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH) is supported by observational evidence linking specific lip postures and functional activities to chin prominence. The depth of the labiomental fold serves as a key indicator of this relationship, with stronger functional engagement leading to a more defined chin profile. These findings align with the principles of the Functional Matrix Theory, emphasizing the role of soft tissue dynamics in craniofacial development. Further research will be essential to deepen our understanding and translate these insights into practical clinical applications.We invite researchers, practitioners, and enthusiasts to join our ongoing discussion on facial development and morphology. Connect with us on the MewTropics Discord server to share your insights, ask questions, and collaborate on future studies. Join the MewTropics Discord server: https://discord.gg/XDgwyBTk3X References
|
2024.05.18 05:59 G_hano The Truth About Weak Chins (Long Post)
| | Hey guys! This hypothesis was posted on my website and decided to post it on Reddit too. For clarification, a weak chin means a lack of a chin point, not a recessed jaw. Not everyone with a recessed jaw has a weak chin and not everyone with a weak chin has a recessed jaw. The hypothesis is called the Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH)IntroductionCraniofacial development is influenced by a complex interplay of epigenetic, environmental, and functional factors. While genetics have traditionally been considered the primary determinant of facial morphology, recent insights from the field of functional craniofacial biology suggest a significant role for mechanical forces exerted by soft tissues. Building on this foundation, the Functional Matrix Hypothesis introduced by Melvin Moss highlights that craniofacial structures do not develop in isolation but as adaptive responses to the functional demands of surrounding soft tissues.The Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH) further explores this concept by focusing on how specific functions of the lips—ranging from habitual expressions and postures to subconscious movements—might influence the development and final morphology of the chin due to labiomental folding. This hypothesis posits that sustained lip activities, mediated through the mechanics of the associated muscles, particularly the mentalis, could have a formative impact on chin morphology through continuous mechanical stimulation and remodeling. This investigation seeks to elucidate the potential causal relationships between lip function and chin development. By empirically examining the variations in lip activity and correlating these with differences in chin structure among individuals, the LFCMH aims to offer new perspectives on craniofacial morphogenesis, providing insights that could influence both theoretical understanding and clinical practices in dental and orthodontic fields. MethodsImage Acquisition and Selection: Photographs were obtained from publicly accessible online databases, ensuring compliance with ethical standards regarding privacy and consent. Selection criteria focused on clear visibility of both lip posture and chin morphology. Images depicting a variety of lip postures were prioritized to ensure a comprehensive analysis. Subjects’ identities were anonymized to maintain confidentiality.Defining Analytical Parameters: Lip postures were categorized into distinct groups: neutral, tense, and protruded, based on visible muscular engagement and positioning. Chin morphology was assessed by examining attributes such as projection, contour, and strain. This classification facilitated a structured comparison of the relationship between lip posture and chin morphology. Analytical Process: A visual analysis approach was adopted to evaluate the selected images. Each photograph was examined manually to identify and record the observed lip postures and corresponding chin features. The assessment criteria included:
Inter-Observer Reliability To enhance reliability, multiple reviewers independently assessed the images. Discrepancies in observations were discussed and resolved through consensus, ensuring that the recorded data accurately reflected the visual assessments. Statistical Analysis Given the visual nature of the analysis, descriptive statistics were primarily used to summarize the data. Correlation analysis was conducted to explore potential associations between different lip postures and chin morphology characteristics. This analysis aimed to identify patterns that support the Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH). Ethical Considerations The study adhered to ethical guidelines for research involving visual data. All images were anonymized to protect subject privacy, and no identifying information was retained. The research protocol was reviewed and approved by an institutional review board to ensure ethical compliance. ResultsOverview of Findings: A total of 142 images were analyzed to explore the relationship between lip posture and chin morphology. The images were categorized based on the observed condition of the mentalis muscle, which was either strained and wrinkled due to protruded lips or relaxed with a good lip seal. This categorization aimed to distinguish between "prominent" chins, characterized by a prominent and well-defined chin profile, and "recessed" chins, marked by visible strain in the mentalis muscle and less prominence.Categorization of Lip Postures and Chin Morphology 1. Protruded Lip Posture with Strained Mentalis Muscle
https://preview.redd.it/7jewpz4tx31d1.png?width=347&format=png&auto=webp&s=73350323c93b04c50b62bc919a0fdd8480935fc0 https://preview.redd.it/2vsne05tx31d1.png?width=233&format=png&auto=webp&s=480c57ea725e7c20949e1afdba70d4c53ac7f085 https://preview.redd.it/opjln05tx31d1.png?width=188&format=png&auto=webp&s=6e7f59f3b7865bb43fef0e11b4275c76783b1252 https://preview.redd.it/2fhtwg5tx31d1.png?width=174&format=png&auto=webp&s=526788b0ca4bc7969b98bbf263bd8322fdcfa8dc https://preview.redd.it/lsg1865tx31d1.png?width=351&format=png&auto=webp&s=bc3e340fe9a8647f1b997519644f481183e38fd8 2. Good Lip Seal with Relaxed Mentalis Muscle
https://preview.redd.it/e2k6m49xx31d1.png?width=195&format=png&auto=webp&s=9612bcf50fa6aa728113b252078c1ef1c1d91d7e https://preview.redd.it/vay0lz8xx31d1.png?width=181&format=png&auto=webp&s=774e90e60f1c1bb6fb5674a894f85b485e3d006d https://preview.redd.it/dwxm3z8xx31d1.png?width=124&format=png&auto=webp&s=b3d6d63b4c947c69da72b22bbd4bc0d1bd2d477b Correlation Analysis The visual assessment revealed notable patterns correlating lip posture with chin morphology:
DiscussionInterpretation of FindingsThe findings from this study provide observational support for the Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH). The analysis of lip posture and functional lip activity, particularly during dynamic expressions such as laughing and speaking, suggests a significant relationship between these behaviors and the resulting chin morphology. Individuals with strong chins tend to exhibit specific lip postures and functional behaviors that promote a prominent and well-defined chin. Conversely, those with weaker chins often lack these behaviors, resulting in a less pronounced chin profile. Functional Matrix Theory The results can be contextualized within the framework of the Functional Matrix Theory, which posits that skeletal structures develop in response to the functional demands placed upon them by the surrounding soft tissues. This theory emphasizes that bones do not grow independently but rather as adaptive responses to the mechanical forces exerted by the muscles and other tissues around them. Impact of Lip Posture on The Labiomental FoldA key indicator of chin prominence observed in this study is the depth and definition of the labiomental fold—the crease between the lower lip and the chin. A deeper labiomental fold with a sharper angle is often associated with a stronger, more prominent chin. This fold is influenced by the activity of the mentalis muscle and the overall usage of the lower lip.The findings suggest that individuals with a prominent chin often maintain a lip posture that keeps the lower lip, or more specifically, the lower orbicularis oris muscle in a neutral or slightly pressed position against the lower teeth. This posture engages the mentalis muscle in a balanced manner, promoting the development of a well-defined labiomental fold. Additionally, during dynamic expressions such as laughing or speaking, the functional behavior of pressing the lower orbicularis oris muscle against the lower incisor region further reinforces the prominence of the chin and the depth of the labiomental fold. Conversely, individuals with a recessed chin typically do not engage the mentalis muscle or the lower orbicularis oris muscle in the same way. Their lip posture tends to be more relaxed or protruded, leading to more mentalis muscle strain and a shallower labiomental fold. This lack of consistent muscle engagement and the absence of reinforcing and even opposing behaviors during dynamic expressions contribute to a weaker chin profile. Clinical Implications Understanding the relationship between lip posture, functional lip activity, and chin morphology has significant clinical implications. Orthodontists and facial aesthetic practitioners can leverage this knowledge to develop interventions aimed at improving chin prominence. Techniques that encourage better lip posture and functional engagement of the mentalis muscle could potentially enhance chin development in individuals with weaker chins. Future Research While this study provides valuable insights, further research is needed to substantiate these findings. Experimental studies with larger sample sizes and longitudinal designs would help establish causal relationships and explore the underlying mechanisms in greater detail. Additionally, advanced imaging techniques could provide more precise measurements of the labiomental fold and chin morphology, enhancing the robustness of future studies. ConclusionThe Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH) is supported by observational evidence linking specific lip postures and functional activities to chin prominence. The depth of the labiomental fold serves as a key indicator of this relationship, with stronger functional engagement leading to a more defined chin profile. These findings align with the principles of the Functional Matrix Theory, emphasizing the role of soft tissue dynamics in craniofacial development. Further research will be essential to deepen our understanding and translate these insights into practical clinical applications.We invite researchers, practitioners, and enthusiasts to join our ongoing discussion on facial development and morphology. Connect with us on the MewTropics Discord server to share your insights, ask questions, and collaborate on future studies. Join the MewTropics Discord server: https://discord.gg/XDgwyBTk3X References
|
2024.05.18 05:58 G_hano The Truth About Weak Chins (Long Post)
| | Hey guys! This hypothesis was posted on my website and decided to post it on Reddit too. For clarification, a weak chin means a lack of a chin point, not a recessed jaw. Not everyone with a recessed jaw has a weak chin and not everyone with a weak chin has a recessed jaw. The hypothesis is called the Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH)IntroductionCraniofacial development is influenced by a complex interplay of epigenetic, environmental, and functional factors. While genetics have traditionally been considered the primary determinant of facial morphology, recent insights from the field of functional craniofacial biology suggest a significant role for mechanical forces exerted by soft tissues. Building on this foundation, the Functional Matrix Hypothesis introduced by Melvin Moss highlights that craniofacial structures do not develop in isolation but as adaptive responses to the functional demands of surrounding soft tissues.The Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH) further explores this concept by focusing on how specific functions of the lips—ranging from habitual expressions and postures to subconscious movements—might influence the development and final morphology of the chin due to labiomental folding. This hypothesis posits that sustained lip activities, mediated through the mechanics of the associated muscles, particularly the mentalis, could have a formative impact on chin morphology through continuous mechanical stimulation and remodeling. This investigation seeks to elucidate the potential causal relationships between lip function and chin development. By empirically examining the variations in lip activity and correlating these with differences in chin structure among individuals, the LFCMH aims to offer new perspectives on craniofacial morphogenesis, providing insights that could influence both theoretical understanding and clinical practices in dental and orthodontic fields. MethodsImage Acquisition and Selection: Photographs were obtained from publicly accessible online databases, ensuring compliance with ethical standards regarding privacy and consent. Selection criteria focused on clear visibility of both lip posture and chin morphology. Images depicting a variety of lip postures were prioritized to ensure a comprehensive analysis. Subjects’ identities were anonymized to maintain confidentiality.Defining Analytical Parameters: Lip postures were categorized into distinct groups: neutral, tense, and protruded, based on visible muscular engagement and positioning. Chin morphology was assessed by examining attributes such as projection, contour, and strain. This classification facilitated a structured comparison of the relationship between lip posture and chin morphology. Analytical Process: A visual analysis approach was adopted to evaluate the selected images. Each photograph was examined manually to identify and record the observed lip postures and corresponding chin features. The assessment criteria included:
Inter-Observer Reliability To enhance reliability, multiple reviewers independently assessed the images. Discrepancies in observations were discussed and resolved through consensus, ensuring that the recorded data accurately reflected the visual assessments. Statistical Analysis Given the visual nature of the analysis, descriptive statistics were primarily used to summarize the data. Correlation analysis was conducted to explore potential associations between different lip postures and chin morphology characteristics. This analysis aimed to identify patterns that support the Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH). Ethical Considerations The study adhered to ethical guidelines for research involving visual data. All images were anonymized to protect subject privacy, and no identifying information was retained. The research protocol was reviewed and approved by an institutional review board to ensure ethical compliance. ResultsOverview of Findings: A total of 142 images were analyzed to explore the relationship between lip posture and chin morphology. The images were categorized based on the observed condition of the mentalis muscle, which was either strained and wrinkled due to protruded lips or relaxed with a good lip seal. This categorization aimed to distinguish between "prominent" chins, characterized by a prominent and well-defined chin profile, and "recessed" chins, marked by visible strain in the mentalis muscle and less prominence.Categorization of Lip Postures and Chin Morphology 1. Protruded Lip Posture with Strained Mentalis Muscle
https://preview.redd.it/7jewpz4tx31d1.png?width=347&format=png&auto=webp&s=73350323c93b04c50b62bc919a0fdd8480935fc0 https://preview.redd.it/2vsne05tx31d1.png?width=233&format=png&auto=webp&s=480c57ea725e7c20949e1afdba70d4c53ac7f085 https://preview.redd.it/opjln05tx31d1.png?width=188&format=png&auto=webp&s=6e7f59f3b7865bb43fef0e11b4275c76783b1252 https://preview.redd.it/2fhtwg5tx31d1.png?width=174&format=png&auto=webp&s=526788b0ca4bc7969b98bbf263bd8322fdcfa8dc https://preview.redd.it/lsg1865tx31d1.png?width=351&format=png&auto=webp&s=bc3e340fe9a8647f1b997519644f481183e38fd8 2. Good Lip Seal with Relaxed Mentalis Muscle
https://preview.redd.it/e2k6m49xx31d1.png?width=195&format=png&auto=webp&s=9612bcf50fa6aa728113b252078c1ef1c1d91d7e https://preview.redd.it/vay0lz8xx31d1.png?width=181&format=png&auto=webp&s=774e90e60f1c1bb6fb5674a894f85b485e3d006d https://preview.redd.it/dwxm3z8xx31d1.png?width=124&format=png&auto=webp&s=b3d6d63b4c947c69da72b22bbd4bc0d1bd2d477b Correlation Analysis The visual assessment revealed notable patterns correlating lip posture with chin morphology:
DiscussionInterpretation of FindingsThe findings from this study provide observational support for the Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH). The analysis of lip posture and functional lip activity, particularly during dynamic expressions such as laughing and speaking, suggests a significant relationship between these behaviors and the resulting chin morphology. Individuals with strong chins tend to exhibit specific lip postures and functional behaviors that promote a prominent and well-defined chin. Conversely, those with weaker chins often lack these behaviors, resulting in a less pronounced chin profile. Functional Matrix Theory The results can be contextualized within the framework of the Functional Matrix Theory, which posits that skeletal structures develop in response to the functional demands placed upon them by the surrounding soft tissues. This theory emphasizes that bones do not grow independently but rather as adaptive responses to the mechanical forces exerted by the muscles and other tissues around them. Impact of Lip Posture on The Labiomental FoldA key indicator of chin prominence observed in this study is the depth and definition of the labiomental fold—the crease between the lower lip and the chin. A deeper labiomental fold with a sharper angle is often associated with a stronger, more prominent chin. This fold is influenced by the activity of the mentalis muscle and the overall usage of the lower lip.The findings suggest that individuals with a prominent chin often maintain a lip posture that keeps the lower lip, or more specifically, the lower orbicularis oris muscle in a neutral or slightly pressed position against the lower teeth. This posture engages the mentalis muscle in a balanced manner, promoting the development of a well-defined labiomental fold. Additionally, during dynamic expressions such as laughing or speaking, the functional behavior of pressing the lower orbicularis oris muscle against the lower incisor region further reinforces the prominence of the chin and the depth of the labiomental fold. Conversely, individuals with a recessed chin typically do not engage the mentalis muscle or the lower orbicularis oris muscle in the same way. Their lip posture tends to be more relaxed or protruded, leading to more mentalis muscle strain and a shallower labiomental fold. This lack of consistent muscle engagement and the absence of reinforcing and even opposing behaviors during dynamic expressions contribute to a weaker chin profile. Clinical Implications Understanding the relationship between lip posture, functional lip activity, and chin morphology has significant clinical implications. Orthodontists and facial aesthetic practitioners can leverage this knowledge to develop interventions aimed at improving chin prominence. Techniques that encourage better lip posture and functional engagement of the mentalis muscle could potentially enhance chin development in individuals with weaker chins. Future Research While this study provides valuable insights, further research is needed to substantiate these findings. Experimental studies with larger sample sizes and longitudinal designs would help establish causal relationships and explore the underlying mechanisms in greater detail. Additionally, advanced imaging techniques could provide more precise measurements of the labiomental fold and chin morphology, enhancing the robustness of future studies. ConclusionThe Lip Function and Chin Morphology Hypothesis (LFCMH) is supported by observational evidence linking specific lip postures and functional activities to chin prominence. The depth of the labiomental fold serves as a key indicator of this relationship, with stronger functional engagement leading to a more defined chin profile. These findings align with the principles of the Functional Matrix Theory, emphasizing the role of soft tissue dynamics in craniofacial development. Further research will be essential to deepen our understanding and translate these insights into practical clinical applications.We invite researchers, practitioners, and enthusiasts to join our ongoing discussion on facial development and morphology. Connect with us on the MewTropics Discord server to share your insights, ask questions, and collaborate on future studies. Join the MewTropics Discord server: https://discord.gg/XDgwyBTk3X References
|
2024.05.18 04:12 Salt-Possibility-415 Culpted Now Injects People With Human Growth Hormone.
 | submitted by Salt-Possibility-415 to TheTpGentleman [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 02:57 NotGreendy Oliver (better version) - best ever 6+ Paper
As the clock struck midnight, casting eerie shadows across the room, a sudden, blood-curdling moan shattered the silence. Oliver, a young boy with a penchant for adventure, froze in his tracks, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a caged bird desperate to escape. "What in the world..." Oliver murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper as he cautiously approached the door. Each step felt like an eternity as the agonizing wail continued, echoing through the empty halls of his family's old mansion. With trembling hands, Oliver swung the door open, revealing the darkness of the night beyond. There, lying on the doorstep like a harbinger of doom, was a tattered envelope, its edges frayed, and its surface marred by a thick, viscous substance that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Oliver's curiosity outweighed his fear as he reached for the envelope, his fingers brushing against the slimy residue that coated its surface. With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, he tore open the envelope, revealing a letter that seemed to emanate a malevolent energy all its own. The words on the page danced before Oliver's eyes, swirling and shifting like shadows in the night. They spoke of a dying plea from his great-grandfather, a man long gone but whose presence seemed to linger in the very air around him. "The time is near, my son," the letter began, its words etched in a handwriting that seemed to writhe and contort before his very eyes. "I need your assistance to travel far. Meet me here: 48.8584° N, 2.2945° E. I wish you the best on your travels." Oliver's head spun with confusion as he read and reread the words, trying to make sense of the cryptic message. His great-grandfather had been dead for years, hadn't he? And yet, here was a letter from beyond the grave, beckoning him into the unknown. With a sense of dread gnawing at his insides, Oliver rushed to call his father for assistance. But to his shock and horror, his father's voice on the other end of the line was thick with confusion. "What do you mean, grandfather died ages ago?" his father slurred, his words tumbling out in a jumble of anxiety and disbelief. Oliver's blood ran cold as he realized the truth - he was alone, trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape. With a curse under his breath, Oliver snatched up the letter, his hands trembling with a mixture of fear and determination. "Fuck it," he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl as he stormed out of the house and into the night. Little did he know, he was about to embark on a journey into the heart of darkness, a journey that would test his courage, his resolve, and his very sanity. With the coordinates from the letter burned into his mind, Oliver set out into the night, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. The road stretched out before him like a black ribbon, winding its way through the desolate countryside like a serpent in the dark. As he drove, Oliver's mind raced with a thousand questions, each one more terrifying than the last. What awaited him at the end of this journey? What horrors lurked in the shadows, waiting to pounce on their unsuspecting prey? But despite the doubts that gnawed at his mind, Oliver pressed on, driven by a stubborn determination to uncover the truth behind his great-grandfather's cryptic message. The night air was thick with the scent of fear and uncertainty, but Oliver refused to be swayed by the darkness that threatened to consume him. As he travelled deeper into the night, the landscape around him began to change, morphing into a twisted, nightmarish version of reality. Trees twisted and contorted like gnarled fingers reaching for the sky, their branches creaking and groaning in the wind like the whispers of the damned. Oliver's heart pounded in his chest as he navigated the treacherous terrain, his eyes darting from side to side in search of any sign of danger. But try as he might, he could not shake the feeling that he was being watched, that unseen eyes were lurking in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And then, just as he thought he could go no further, he saw it - a corroded steel gate looming in the distance like a sentinel guarding the entrance to some long-forgotten realm. With a sense of trepidation, Oliver slowed his car to a stop, his eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of movement. But the night was silent enough to hear the mournful howl of the wind, and Oliver knew that he was alone. With a shaky hand, he reached for the gate, his fingers brushing against the cold metal as he pushed it open and stepped into the unknown. As Oliver made his way through the forest, the sense of unease that had been gnawing at him since he first set out only grew stronger. The trees seemed to loom overhead like ancient sentinels, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal fingers grasping for purchase in the darkness. But despite the oppressive atmosphere, Oliver pressed on, driven by a stubborn determination to uncover the truth behind his great-grandfather's mysterious message. The coordinates from the letter burned brightly in his mind, guiding him ever closer to his destination. And then, just as he thought he could go no further, he saw it - a looming, dilapidated structure rising from the darkness like a spectre from the past. The hotel stood silent and foreboding, its windows shattered and its walls crumbling with age. With a sense of trepidation, Oliver approached the building, his footsteps echoing in the empty silence of the night. As he stepped through the shattered doorway, he was greeted by a sight that chilled him to the bone - the lobby was empty except for a single figure standing in the shadows. "Hello?" Oliver called out, his voice echoing in the empty space. But there was no response, except for the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. With a sense of unease gnawing at his gut, Oliver approached the figure cautiously, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. But as he drew closer, he realized with a start that the figure was nothing more than a mannequin, its lifeless eyes staring blankly into the void. Relieved but still on edge, Oliver made his way deeper into the hotel, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls. But no matter where he turned, he found only darkness and decay, the once-grand building now nothing more than a crumbling monument to a forgotten era. And then, just as he was about to give up hope, Oliver heard a voice echoing in the darkness - a voice that sent a shiver down his spine and made his blood run cold. "Welcome to the Hotel of Horrors," the voice whispered, its words dripping with malice. "We've been expecting you." As Oliver made his way through the abandoned corridors of the hotel, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Every shadow seemed to conceal some new horror, every creak of the floorboards sending a chill down his spine. But despite the fear that threatened to consume him, Oliver pressed on, determined to uncover the truth behind his great-grandfather's cryptic message. With each step, he felt the weight of the darkness pressing down on him, a suffocating presence that seemed to seep into his very bones. And then, just as he thought he could go no further, he heard a voice echoing in the darkness - a voice that sent a shiver down his spine and made his blood run cold. "Hello, there," the voice said, its tone smooth and mocking. "What brings you to this forsaken place?" Oliver spun around, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for the source of the voice. And then, emerging from the shadows, he saw him - a figure dressed in fine clothes, his face obscured by the darkness. "Who are you?" Oliver demanded, his voice trembling with fear and uncertainty. The figure stepped forward; his features bathed in the sickly light of the moon. "My name is Jack," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "And I'm here to offer you a deal." Oliver's blood ran cold at the mention of a deal, his mind racing with a thousand possibilities. What could this stranger want from him? And what price would he be forced to pay? But before he could voice his concerns, Jack continued, his voice smooth and persuasive. "You see, Oliver, this hotel holds many secrets - secrets that could change your life forever. And I'm willing to share them with you, for a price." Oliver's mind raced as he weighed his options. On the one hand, he knew he should be wary of Jack and his promises of power and wealth. But on the other hand, the allure of the unknown was too strong to resist. And so, with a sense of trepidation and excitement, Oliver made a decision that would change the course of his destiny forever. He would follow Jack into the heart of darkness, and together, they would uncover the secrets that lay hidden within the walls of the Hotel of Horrors. As Oliver made his decision to follow Jack into the depths of the Hotel of Horrors, he couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that gnawed at him. But the allure of uncovering the secrets hidden within those haunted halls was too strong to resist. With a steady resolve, he nodded to Jack, signalling his agreement to whatever pact lay before them. Jack's smirk widened, revealing a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Excellent choice, Oliver. You won't regret this." With a wave of his hand, Jack led Oliver deeper into the labyrinthine corridors of the decrepit hotel. Each step echoed ominously, the sound reverberating through the empty halls like a haunting melody. As they walked, Oliver couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in the atmosphere. The air grew colder, carrying with it a palpable sense of foreboding. Shadows danced on the walls, twisting and contorting in unnatural shapes that seemed to watch their every move. Despite the growing unease in his gut, Oliver pressed on, his curiosity driving him forward. He had come too far to turn back now. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached a grand chamber at the heart of the hotel. The room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the broken windows. In the centre of the chamber stood a pedestal, upon which rested a dusty tome bound in ancient leather. Jack approached the pedestal with reverence, his movements careful and deliberate. "This," he said, gesturing to the tome, "is the key to unlocking the true power of this place." Oliver's heart raced as he stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the mysterious book. What secrets did it hold? And what price would he have to pay to uncover them? With a sense of trepidation, Oliver reached out and opened the tome. As he flipped through its pages, he was greeted by a wealth of knowledge - spells, incantations, and rituals dating back centuries. But as he delved deeper into the pages, Oliver's excitement turned to horror. The rituals described within were dark and twisted, their intentions malevolent and cruel. It was clear that this tome held powers far beyond his comprehension. Jack watched with amusement as Oliver's expression darkened. "Impressive, isn't it?" he said, his voice dripping with malice. "But power comes at a price, Oliver. Are you willing to pay it?" Oliver hesitated, his mind racing with uncertainty. He knew that delving further into the secrets of the Hotel of Horrors would come with consequences, but the temptation was too strong to resist. And so, with a sense of resignation, Oliver nodded. "I'll do whatever it takes." Jack's smirk widened, a glint of triumph in his eyes. "Excellent," he said. "Then let us begin. "Under Jack's guidance, Oliver delved deeper into the dark arts than he ever thought possible. Night after night, they performed rituals that twisted the fabric of reality, bending it to their will. With each incantation, Oliver felt himself changing, his mind and soul becoming darker and more twisted with each passing day. But the allure of power was too strong to resist, driving him further down the path of darkness. As weeks turned into months, the Hotel of Horrors became their sanctuary, a place where they could explore the darkest depths of magic without fear of judgment or consequence. But as their power grew, so too did their arrogance. They became reckless, summoning creatures from the depths of the abyss and wielding magic beyond their control. And then, one fateful night, they performed a ritual that would change everything. Under the light of a blood-red moon, Oliver and Jack stood before the pedestal in the grand chamber, their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of torchlight. With trembling hands, they began to chant, their voices merging into a cacophony of dark whispers that echoed through the empty halls. As the ritual reached its climax, a surge of power coursed through Oliver's veins, filling him with an exhilarating sense of euphoria. But as he looked into Jack's eyes, he saw something flicker beneath the surface - a darkness so deep and consuming that it sent a chill down his spine. And then, with a deafening roar, the ritual reached its climax, unleashing a torrent of energy that tore through the fabric of reality. As the dust settled and the echoes of their chanting faded into silence, Oliver and Jack stood in shock, their minds reeling from what they had unleashed. But as they looked around, they realized with horror that something had gone terribly wrong. The hotel around them was no longer the decrepit ruin they had come to know - it was alive, pulsating with a malevolent energy that seemed to seep into their very bones. And then, emerging from the shadows, they saw them - twisted creatures of nightmare, their forms shifting and changing in the darkness. With a sense of dread sinking in his gut, Oliver realized the true cost of their actions. They had unleashed a darkness that threatened to consume everything in its path. And as he looked into Jack's eyes, he knew that there was only one thing left to do - they had to find a way to stop it, before it was too late. As Oliver and Jack confronted the horrors they had unleashed, they found themselves locked in a battle for their very souls. The creatures that lurked within the depths of the hotel were unlike anything they had ever encountered - twisted, grotesque abominations that seemed to defy the laws of nature. But despite the overwhelming odds, Oliver refused to back down. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he fought alongside Jack, determined to undo the damage they had wrought. For days, they battled against the darkness, their bodies weary, and their spirits tested. But no matter how hard they fought, it seemed as though the darkness was inexhaustible, its tendrils spreading like wildfire through the hotel's corridors. And then, just when all hope seemed lost, Oliver made a startling discovery. Hidden within the pages of the tome they had used to perform the ritual was a spell - a spell of binding that could trap the darkness once and for all. With a renewed sense of purpose, Oliver and Jack set out to perform the spell. But as they reached the grand chamber at the heart of the hotel, they were met with a sight that chilled them to the bone. Standing before them, bathed in the sickly light of the moon, was a figure unlike any they had ever seen. Its form was shrouded in darkness, its eyes burning with a malevolent fire that seemed to pierce straight through to their very souls. Oliver's heart raced as he realized the truth - this creature was the embodiment of the darkness they had unleashed, and it would stop at nothing to destroy them. With a sense of determination burning in his chest, Oliver stepped forward, his voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at his insides. "We've come to end this," he said, his words echoing in the empty chamber. "We will not let you consume this world." But the creature only laughed, its voice a twisted cacophony that sent shivers down Oliver's spine. "You cannot stop me, mortal," it said, its words dripping with malice. "I am the darkness that lurks in the hearts of men, the shadow that consumes all in its path. You are nothing but insects to be crushed beneath my heel." But Oliver refused to be intimidated. With a defiant roar, he raised his hands and began to chant the spell of binding, his voice ringing out in the darkness like a clarion call. And then, with a blinding flash of light, the spell took hold, trapping the darkness within the confines of the hotel's walls. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of their laboured breathing. And then, with a deafening roar, the hotel began to collapse in on itself, its walls crumbling to dust as the darkness was consumed by the very shadows it had spawned. As Oliver and Jack emerged from the ruins of the hotel, they were greeted by the light of the rising sun, its warm rays banishing the darkness that had threatened to consume them. With a sense of relief washing over him, Oliver collapsed to his knees, his body weary from the battle. But as he looked up at the sky above, he knew that the nightmare was finally over. Or so he thought. As Oliver lays in the hospital bed, his mind a maelstrom of confusion and uncertainty, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The events of the past few days seemed like a distant dream, a surreal nightmare from which he couldn't seem to wake. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story than he remembered. With a sense of unease gnawing at his gut, Oliver glanced around the room, his eyes falling on the figure of a nurse standing by his bedside. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse. The nurse smiled sympathetically; her eyes filled with concern. "You're in the hospital, dear. You've been in a coma for quite some time. "Oliver's heart skipped a beat at the mention of a coma. How long had he been unconscious? And what had happened to him? As the nurse explained the details of his condition, Oliver's mind raced with a thousand questions. But try as he might, he couldn't seem to piece together the events that had led him here. And then, just as he was about to give up hope, a flicker of memory flashed through his mind - the hotel, the rituals, the darkness. With a start, Oliver realized the truth - it hadn't been a dream at all. The horrors he had faced were all too real, and they had left a mark on his soul that would never fade. As the reality of his situation sank in, Oliver felt a sense of despair wash over him. How could he ever hope to move on from the trauma he had endured? But even as he grappled with his fear and uncertainty, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind - a voice that told him that he was stronger than he knew, and that he would find a way to overcome the darkness that threatened to consume him. With a newfound sense of determination burning in his chest, Oliver vowed to face whatever challenges lay ahead with courage and resilience. For he knew that the journey was far from over, and that the true test of his strength had only just begun. And so, with a sense of resolve burning in his heart, Oliver closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, knowing that no matter what trials awaited him, he would face them head-on, armed with nothing but his own indomitable spirit. But little did he know, the darkness that had once threatened to consume him still lurked in the shadows, biding its time until the moment was right to strike again. And as Oliver drifted off into unconsciousness once more, a sense of dread settled over him, for he knew that the nightmare was far from over, and that the true battle for his soul had only just begun.
submitted by NotGreendy to booktopia [link] [comments]
2024.05.18 02:54 NotGreendy Oliver (better version) - best ever 6+ Paper
As the clock struck midnight, casting eerie shadows across the room, a sudden, blood-curdling moan shattered the silence. Oliver, a young boy with a penchant for adventure, froze in his tracks, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a caged bird desperate to escape. "What in the world..." Oliver murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper as he cautiously approached the door. Each step felt like an eternity as the agonizing wail continued, echoing through the empty halls of his family's old mansion. With trembling hands, Oliver swung the door open, revealing the darkness of the night beyond. There, lying on the doorstep like a harbinger of doom, was a tattered envelope, its edges frayed, and its surface marred by a thick, viscous substance that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Oliver's curiosity outweighed his fear as he reached for the envelope, his fingers brushing against the slimy residue that coated its surface. With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, he tore open the envelope, revealing a letter that seemed to emanate a malevolent energy all its own. The words on the page danced before Oliver's eyes, swirling and shifting like shadows in the night. They spoke of a dying plea from his great-grandfather, a man long gone but whose presence seemed to linger in the very air around him. "The time is near, my son," the letter began, its words etched in a handwriting that seemed to writhe and contort before his very eyes. "I need your assistance to travel far. Meet me here: 48.8584° N, 2.2945° E. I wish you the best on your travels." Oliver's head spun with confusion as he read and reread the words, trying to make sense of the cryptic message. His great-grandfather had been dead for years, hadn't he? And yet, here was a letter from beyond the grave, beckoning him into the unknown. With a sense of dread gnawing at his insides, Oliver rushed to call his father for assistance. But to his shock and horror, his father's voice on the other end of the line was thick with confusion. "What do you mean, grandfather died ages ago?" his father slurred, his words tumbling out in a jumble of anxiety and disbelief. Oliver's blood ran cold as he realized the truth - he was alone, trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape. With a curse under his breath, Oliver snatched up the letter, his hands trembling with a mixture of fear and determination. "Fuck it," he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl as he stormed out of the house and into the night. Little did he know, he was about to embark on a journey into the heart of darkness, a journey that would test his courage, his resolve, and his very sanity. With the coordinates from the letter burned into his mind, Oliver set out into the night, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. The road stretched out before him like a black ribbon, winding its way through the desolate countryside like a serpent in the dark. As he drove, Oliver's mind raced with a thousand questions, each one more terrifying than the last. What awaited him at the end of this journey? What horrors lurked in the shadows, waiting to pounce on their unsuspecting prey? But despite the doubts that gnawed at his mind, Oliver pressed on, driven by a stubborn determination to uncover the truth behind his great-grandfather's cryptic message. The night air was thick with the scent of fear and uncertainty, but Oliver refused to be swayed by the darkness that threatened to consume him. As he travelled deeper into the night, the landscape around him began to change, morphing into a twisted, nightmarish version of reality. Trees twisted and contorted like gnarled fingers reaching for the sky, their branches creaking and groaning in the wind like the whispers of the damned. Oliver's heart pounded in his chest as he navigated the treacherous terrain, his eyes darting from side to side in search of any sign of danger. But try as he might, he could not shake the feeling that he was being watched, that unseen eyes were lurking in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And then, just as he thought he could go no further, he saw it - a corroded steel gate looming in the distance like a sentinel guarding the entrance to some long-forgotten realm. With a sense of trepidation, Oliver slowed his car to a stop, his eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of movement. But the night was silent enough to hear the mournful howl of the wind, and Oliver knew that he was alone. With a shaky hand, he reached for the gate, his fingers brushing against the cold metal as he pushed it open and stepped into the unknown. As Oliver made his way through the forest, the sense of unease that had been gnawing at him since he first set out only grew stronger. The trees seemed to loom overhead like ancient sentinels, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal fingers grasping for purchase in the darkness. But despite the oppressive atmosphere, Oliver pressed on, driven by a stubborn determination to uncover the truth behind his great-grandfather's mysterious message. The coordinates from the letter burned brightly in his mind, guiding him ever closer to his destination. And then, just as he thought he could go no further, he saw it - a looming, dilapidated structure rising from the darkness like a spectre from the past. The hotel stood silent and foreboding, its windows shattered and its walls crumbling with age. With a sense of trepidation, Oliver approached the building, his footsteps echoing in the empty silence of the night. As he stepped through the shattered doorway, he was greeted by a sight that chilled him to the bone - the lobby was empty except for a single figure standing in the shadows. "Hello?" Oliver called out, his voice echoing in the empty space. But there was no response, except for the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. With a sense of unease gnawing at his gut, Oliver approached the figure cautiously, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. But as he drew closer, he realized with a start that the figure was nothing more than a mannequin, its lifeless eyes staring blankly into the void. Relieved but still on edge, Oliver made his way deeper into the hotel, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls. But no matter where he turned, he found only darkness and decay, the once-grand building now nothing more than a crumbling monument to a forgotten era. And then, just as he was about to give up hope, Oliver heard a voice echoing in the darkness - a voice that sent a shiver down his spine and made his blood run cold. "Welcome to the Hotel of Horrors," the voice whispered, its words dripping with malice. "We've been expecting you." As Oliver made his way through the abandoned corridors of the hotel, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Every shadow seemed to conceal some new horror, every creak of the floorboards sending a chill down his spine. But despite the fear that threatened to consume him, Oliver pressed on, determined to uncover the truth behind his great-grandfather's cryptic message. With each step, he felt the weight of the darkness pressing down on him, a suffocating presence that seemed to seep into his very bones. And then, just as he thought he could go no further, he heard a voice echoing in the darkness - a voice that sent a shiver down his spine and made his blood run cold. "Hello, there," the voice said, its tone smooth and mocking. "What brings you to this forsaken place?" Oliver spun around, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for the source of the voice. And then, emerging from the shadows, he saw him - a figure dressed in fine clothes, his face obscured by the darkness. "Who are you?" Oliver demanded, his voice trembling with fear and uncertainty. The figure stepped forward; his features bathed in the sickly light of the moon. "My name is Jack," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "And I'm here to offer you a deal." Oliver's blood ran cold at the mention of a deal, his mind racing with a thousand possibilities. What could this stranger want from him? And what price would he be forced to pay? But before he could voice his concerns, Jack continued, his voice smooth and persuasive. "You see, Oliver, this hotel holds many secrets - secrets that could change your life forever. And I'm willing to share them with you, for a price." Oliver's mind raced as he weighed his options. On the one hand, he knew he should be wary of Jack and his promises of power and wealth. But on the other hand, the allure of the unknown was too strong to resist. And so, with a sense of trepidation and excitement, Oliver made a decision that would change the course of his destiny forever. He would follow Jack into the heart of darkness, and together, they would uncover the secrets that lay hidden within the walls of the Hotel of Horrors. As Oliver made his decision to follow Jack into the depths of the Hotel of Horrors, he couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that gnawed at him. But the allure of uncovering the secrets hidden within those haunted halls was too strong to resist. With a steady resolve, he nodded to Jack, signalling his agreement to whatever pact lay before them. Jack's smirk widened, revealing a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Excellent choice, Oliver. You won't regret this." With a wave of his hand, Jack led Oliver deeper into the labyrinthine corridors of the decrepit hotel. Each step echoed ominously, the sound reverberating through the empty halls like a haunting melody. As they walked, Oliver couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in the atmosphere. The air grew colder, carrying with it a palpable sense of foreboding. Shadows danced on the walls, twisting and contorting in unnatural shapes that seemed to watch their every move. Despite the growing unease in his gut, Oliver pressed on, his curiosity driving him forward. He had come too far to turn back now. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached a grand chamber at the heart of the hotel. The room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the broken windows. In the centre of the chamber stood a pedestal, upon which rested a dusty tome bound in ancient leather. Jack approached the pedestal with reverence, his movements careful and deliberate. "This," he said, gesturing to the tome, "is the key to unlocking the true power of this place." Oliver's heart raced as he stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the mysterious book. What secrets did it hold? And what price would he have to pay to uncover them? With a sense of trepidation, Oliver reached out and opened the tome. As he flipped through its pages, he was greeted by a wealth of knowledge - spells, incantations, and rituals dating back centuries. But as he delved deeper into the pages, Oliver's excitement turned to horror. The rituals described within were dark and twisted, their intentions malevolent and cruel. It was clear that this tome held powers far beyond his comprehension. Jack watched with amusement as Oliver's expression darkened. "Impressive, isn't it?" he said, his voice dripping with malice. "But power comes at a price, Oliver. Are you willing to pay it?" Oliver hesitated, his mind racing with uncertainty. He knew that delving further into the secrets of the Hotel of Horrors would come with consequences, but the temptation was too strong to resist. And so, with a sense of resignation, Oliver nodded. "I'll do whatever it takes." Jack's smirk widened, a glint of triumph in his eyes. "Excellent," he said. "Then let us begin. "Under Jack's guidance, Oliver delved deeper into the dark arts than he ever thought possible. Night after night, they performed rituals that twisted the fabric of reality, bending it to their will. With each incantation, Oliver felt himself changing, his mind and soul becoming darker and more twisted with each passing day. But the allure of power was too strong to resist, driving him further down the path of darkness. As weeks turned into months, the Hotel of Horrors became their sanctuary, a place where they could explore the darkest depths of magic without fear of judgment or consequence. But as their power grew, so too did their arrogance. They became reckless, summoning creatures from the depths of the abyss and wielding magic beyond their control. And then, one fateful night, they performed a ritual that would change everything. Under the light of a blood-red moon, Oliver and Jack stood before the pedestal in the grand chamber, their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of torchlight. With trembling hands, they began to chant, their voices merging into a cacophony of dark whispers that echoed through the empty halls. As the ritual reached its climax, a surge of power coursed through Oliver's veins, filling him with an exhilarating sense of euphoria. But as he looked into Jack's eyes, he saw something flicker beneath the surface - a darkness so deep and consuming that it sent a chill down his spine. And then, with a deafening roar, the ritual reached its climax, unleashing a torrent of energy that tore through the fabric of reality. As the dust settled and the echoes of their chanting faded into silence, Oliver and Jack stood in shock, their minds reeling from what they had unleashed. But as they looked around, they realized with horror that something had gone terribly wrong. The hotel around them was no longer the decrepit ruin they had come to know - it was alive, pulsating with a malevolent energy that seemed to seep into their very bones. And then, emerging from the shadows, they saw them - twisted creatures of nightmare, their forms shifting and changing in the darkness. With a sense of dread sinking in his gut, Oliver realized the true cost of their actions. They had unleashed a darkness that threatened to consume everything in its path. And as he looked into Jack's eyes, he knew that there was only one thing left to do - they had to find a way to stop it, before it was too late. As Oliver and Jack confronted the horrors they had unleashed, they found themselves locked in a battle for their very souls. The creatures that lurked within the depths of the hotel were unlike anything they had ever encountered - twisted, grotesque abominations that seemed to defy the laws of nature. But despite the overwhelming odds, Oliver refused to back down. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he fought alongside Jack, determined to undo the damage they had wrought. For days, they battled against the darkness, their bodies weary, and their spirits tested. But no matter how hard they fought, it seemed as though the darkness was inexhaustible, its tendrils spreading like wildfire through the hotel's corridors. And then, just when all hope seemed lost, Oliver made a startling discovery. Hidden within the pages of the tome they had used to perform the ritual was a spell - a spell of binding that could trap the darkness once and for all. With a renewed sense of purpose, Oliver and Jack set out to perform the spell. But as they reached the grand chamber at the heart of the hotel, they were met with a sight that chilled them to the bone. Standing before them, bathed in the sickly light of the moon, was a figure unlike any they had ever seen. Its form was shrouded in darkness, its eyes burning with a malevolent fire that seemed to pierce straight through to their very souls. Oliver's heart raced as he realized the truth - this creature was the embodiment of the darkness they had unleashed, and it would stop at nothing to destroy them. With a sense of determination burning in his chest, Oliver stepped forward, his voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at his insides. "We've come to end this," he said, his words echoing in the empty chamber. "We will not let you consume this world." But the creature only laughed, its voice a twisted cacophony that sent shivers down Oliver's spine. "You cannot stop me, mortal," it said, its words dripping with malice. "I am the darkness that lurks in the hearts of men, the shadow that consumes all in its path. You are nothing but insects to be crushed beneath my heel." But Oliver refused to be intimidated. With a defiant roar, he raised his hands and began to chant the spell of binding, his voice ringing out in the darkness like a clarion call. And then, with a blinding flash of light, the spell took hold, trapping the darkness within the confines of the hotel's walls. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of their laboured breathing. And then, with a deafening roar, the hotel began to collapse in on itself, its walls crumbling to dust as the darkness was consumed by the very shadows it had spawned. As Oliver and Jack emerged from the ruins of the hotel, they were greeted by the light of the rising sun, its warm rays banishing the darkness that had threatened to consume them. With a sense of relief washing over him, Oliver collapsed to his knees, his body weary from the battle. But as he looked up at the sky above, he knew that the nightmare was finally over. Or so he thought. As Oliver lays in the hospital bed, his mind a maelstrom of confusion and uncertainty, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The events of the past few days seemed like a distant dream, a surreal nightmare from which he couldn't seem to wake. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story than he remembered. With a sense of unease gnawing at his gut, Oliver glanced around the room, his eyes falling on the figure of a nurse standing by his bedside. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse. The nurse smiled sympathetically; her eyes filled with concern. "You're in the hospital, dear. You've been in a coma for quite some time. "Oliver's heart skipped a beat at the mention of a coma. How long had he been unconscious? And what had happened to him? As the nurse explained the details of his condition, Oliver's mind raced with a thousand questions. But try as he might, he couldn't seem to piece together the events that had led him here. And then, just as he was about to give up hope, a flicker of memory flashed through his mind - the hotel, the rituals, the darkness. With a start, Oliver realized the truth - it hadn't been a dream at all. The horrors he had faced were all too real, and they had left a mark on his soul that would never fade. As the reality of his situation sank in, Oliver felt a sense of despair wash over him. How could he ever hope to move on from the trauma he had endured? But even as he grappled with his fear and uncertainty, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind - a voice that told him that he was stronger than he knew, and that he would find a way to overcome the darkness that threatened to consume him. With a newfound sense of determination burning in his chest, Oliver vowed to face whatever challenges lay ahead with courage and resilience. For he knew that the journey was far from over, and that the true test of his strength had only just begun. And so, with a sense of resolve burning in his heart, Oliver closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, knowing that no matter what trials awaited him, he would face them head-on, armed with nothing but his own indomitable spirit. But little did he know, the darkness that had once threatened to consume him still lurked in the shadows, biding its time until the moment was right to strike again. And as Oliver drifted off into unconsciousness once more, a sense of dread settled over him, for he knew that the nightmare was far from over, and that the true battle for his soul had only just begun.
submitted by NotGreendy to u/NotGreendy [link] [comments]
2024.05.18 02:25 Voodoo_Clerk I'm Indebted to a Voodoo Shop (Part 5)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Creole dangled that final favor over my head for a few weeks. He didn’t summon me or even contact me as if he was dragging out my final task until he truly felt like doing so. While it annoyed me, I eventually found it to be a blessing. It allowed me to process everything that had happened to me and recharge my batteries. I also did my best to avoid mirrors after my hotel ordeal with my corrupted reflection. Every time I even passed a mirror it felt like at any moment she burst through the mirror and rip me into pieces.
After almost 3 weeks of silence from Creole, I was sitting home alone, having agreed to help my parents fill out their taxes while they continued to work themselves to the bone. I didn’t exactly know what I was doing but I figured that no one ever really knows what they’re doing when they fill out a tax form. I was in the process of chewing the end of my eraser when our doorbell rang.
Now I’m usually the type of person who never answers the door when the doorbell rings. If I don’t know that you’re coming over beforehand then I ain’t answering the door. But something about this doorbell felt different. And after all, I wasn’t getting anywhere with my parent’s tax forms; other than the feeling of dread with how badly we were faring even with both of them working two jobs. So I stood up from the kitchen table and made my way over to the door.
“Jacob?” I asked with surprise and a bit of shock when I saw the bellboy standing at my door. He waved to me happily and then reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me. I took it from him and was greeted by the familiar handwriting that Creole’s notes carried. “Why didn’t he just call me?” I asked Jacob, forgetting that Creole’s bellboy was now a mute. He simply pointed at the envelope. I looked down at it, opened it, and began to read.
“Mace! So sorry that I’m not able to call you. I’m currently out of town on a business trip. But this is the perfect opportunity for your final favor! Jacob is here to lead you to the shop where I’ve left further instructions. And don’t worry about anyone seeing y’all. Not like anyone will believe ya if you told em. Best regards, K.C.”
That last sentence felt like a threat. It was something that existed constantly in the back of my mind. Especially after I found out that Creole had the police in his pocket. It was best to just grit my teeth, get this final favor done, and never have to think of Ol’ King Creole’s Half Priced Voodoo Store ever again.
“Just give me a minute to get my things,” I told Jacob. He nodded quickly and gave me a thumbs-up. He was such a different person now that it was scary. I hadn’t known Jacob well in high school but seeing him like this caused me to feel sorry for him. He certainly didn’t deserve this, it wasn’t his fault that I had gotten stabbed by one of his customers. And yet it was my fault that he was now a servant of the same monster that held my own life in his gloved hands.
I allowed Jacob into the house while I headed upstairs, followed by the thoughts that filled me with guilt over what had happened to him. I applied more of Creole’s ointment so that my scar and stitches would continue to be hidden. I gathered my lockpicking tools and my pepper spray and finally joined Jacob downstairs. He was busy looking at the pictures hung up on my wall and when he noticed me he quickly spun on his heels and gave me a salute, a cheery smile on his stitched-up mouth.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I told him, barely able to stand his overly cheery demeanor. He nodded and followed me outside. I locked the door and followed him as he led me toward the voodoo store. As I followed Jacob, I took the letter he had given me and started reading it again. Something was bothering me.
“Where the hell does he need to go to be on a business trip?” I asked Jacob, again as if the mute bellboy could answer me. He shrugged his shoulders as he continued down the sidewalk. I looked back down at the letter and suddenly got a terrible feeling about something. Were there other freaks like Creole? If one freak exists, it only makes sense that others also exist. This horrible line of thought was abruptly halted when I walked into Jacob. I was about to get pissed at him but then I realized that we’d arrived at the voodoo shop.
“Oh,” I said, my cheeks getting warm with embarrassment. I had been so absorbed in my thoughts that we’d arrived in record time. Jacob just smiled and opened the door for me, I mouthed a quick thanks and entered the shop hoping to leave my embarrassment outside. Every voodoo doll quickly turned to look at me as soon as I entered. I quickly held my hands up to show them that it was me, and Jacob entering the store behind me put them all at ease. I guessed that they were some sort of security system for when their boss was away.
Jacob led me to Creole’s office and as we passed the basement door whatever was down there quickly began pounding at the door. It surprised me so badly that I screamed and quickly rushed past Jacob toward the office, putting as much distance as I could from the creature in the basement. I entered Creole’s office and quickly sat myself down on the comfy chair where I had received my life-saving surgery from Creole. Jacob followed after me and closed the door behind us.
He went behind Creole’s desk and began searching for something. I meanwhile finally took full notice of Creole’s office, since the last time I had been there I had been on death’s door. His office was filled with photos with a grand majority of them being scratched out in some way. All except one on his desk. I reached out and grabbed the picture frame to look at it. It was an old black-and-white photo of a man and a woman.
“Is that…” I held the photo closer to my eyes to examine it. The man was tall with messy black hair. “Creole?” I whispered to myself as the figure in the picture was a dead-ringer for Creole. Of course minus the button eyes and stitches across his mouth and neck. Just as I was about to examine the woman, the photo was suddenly snatched from my hands. I just about had a heart attack thinking that Creole had somehow returned and taken it from me. But it was only Jacob with more of my directions.
“Right, sorry,” I told him as I accepted the couple of pieces of paper he handed to me. There were Creole’s usual doodles of what I had to retrieve though these were the strangest ones yet. Though thinking back now it certainly seemed hard to top a clock that caused you to decay and a mirror that creates a horror version of yourself.
Creole wanted me to steal some sort of file and a porcelain doll. The porcelain doll made sense, the wall of voodoo dolls was enough to prove Creole’s obsession with dolls. But the file was what interested me more. What exactly did he want that for? Was it some sort of haunted file or something? I looked at the next page which was another letter. Why he couldn’t have just told me everything in the first letter was lost to me.
“Mace! By now Jacob should’ve given you the target of my current desire. After you’ve finished reading this and are ready to begin your final favor he’ll take you to your target. And I’m sure you’re dying to know where it is. It’s in a lovely Massachusetts mansion! The owner rarely ever goes there anymore so it should be a walk in the park for you! Just this last favor and you can finally go free.” He didn’t bother signing this one, but I could care less. The third paper appeared to be completely blank, so I just shoved that into my pocket with everything else.
“Well, I guess I’m ready,” I told Jacob as I stood up. He nodded and reached into his pocket. He rummaged around in there for a moment before he pulled out a key. The bow of it was a skull, which probably meant that it was a skeleton key of some sort. I’m sure Creole had gotten a kick out of it for that reason. The bellboy inserted the key into Creole’s office door and turned it. Before my eyes and Jacob’s buttons, the door began to morph and change into a much more ornate and fancier one. The golden initials CS were stamped onto each door and Jacob swung the door open for me.
“Wish me luck,” I said as he handed to key to me. I assumed so I could make a quick escape if the situation called for it. He held a thumbs up and waved goodbye to me as I stepped through the doors.
I had to blink my eyes furiously after entering the mansion as I was blasted with natural lighting that blinded me when compared to the dimly lit voodoo shop. This place was massive, from a giant chandelier above my head, to massive windows that let in plenty of sunlight into the mansion. But even despite its grandeur it felt, cold. Both in temperature and in feeling. It was the beginning of fall but even so, there wasn’t any reason for it to be this cold. Cold enough to see my breath. I shivered as I took my few steps forward into the mansion.
Right at the entrance next to the grand staircase was a giant family portrait of who I at first assumed were the owners of this massive palace. But judging by the clothes the woman was wearing and the style of suit the older man was wearing I quickly judged that they must be some kind of ancestors. The woman and man both had their hands on the boy in front of them. The mother and I assumed her son both had blonde hair, while the father had thick brown hair with a giant mustache.
“Where would this file be?” I wondered to myself after a moment of staring at the giant portrait. I reached into my pocket to try and find something in Creole’s notes. And to my surprise, the previously blank sheet of paper had suddenly transformed into a map of the mansion. To my surprise the file wasn’t located upstairs but in a downstairs office. Armed with this knowledge, I started making my way towards it, checking the map every so often so that I wouldn’t become lost in the maze of hallways and rooms that this mansion possessed.
The cold started getting to me as I shivered uncontrollably and vapors of breath poured from my mouth. The quicker I got this over with the better, not only as my final favor but because I wasn’t about to have myself catch a cold over this. Finally, I made it to the correct door. I tried to turn the knob and found it locked. I half expected this to just be a snatch-and-go, but I supposed that there was a reason Creole sent me.
Getting on my knees and warming up my hands with my breath, I quickly went about trying to pick this lock. What immediately struck me was how old this lock was. Not like rusty and about to fall apart old but in design old. I’d never come across a lock like this and I had to figure out how to actually go about picking it. My shaking hands and body also added to my struggles and I dropped my tools on more than one occasion.
Finally, after ten minutes of fumbling, cursing, and giving up once, I finally managed to open the door. “Let’s fucking go!” I shouted in excitement. Covering my mouth quickly as my voice echoed throughout the mansion. I quickly entered the room and closed the door behind me. I was surprised to see that it wasn’t an office, but more like a storage room with a few boxes and filing cabinets. He really wasn’t going to make this easy on me, was he?
I opened a few of the filing cabinets and found many of them empty, which sped up the process of finding the file I needed. It was the second to last one that finally yielded results. The only problem was that this cabinet was full of files. Just as I was about to try and steal all of them, one of them caught my eye. I was flipping through them and cursing Creole with every file that I flicked past when one felt different from the others. Mostly because it had a paperclip attached to it and a photo. I pulled this file out and looked down at it. The picture was of a woman who looked exactly like the woman at the entrance of the mansion. Opening it I read through it a little.
Abigail A. Sinclair.
Fell into deep and uncontrollable hysteria after the death of her husband, Cornelius A. Sinclair, and the return of her son from the war. Her son has seen fit to place her under the care of the Boston Psychopathic Hospital. Her son has requested that he not be informed of her progress or if she passes away in our care.
“Jeez,” I said as I flipped through more of the file. The most striking were two photos, one was of Abigail when she was mentally well and the next was her locked in a straight jacket and completely a shell of her former elegant self. Her hair was wild and her face was twisted into a look of intense fear and sorrow. I reached into my pocket to consult my magic pages and found that the map had now turned into a simple phrase.
“That one,” was all it said now. I looked back down at the file and stared at the haunting eyes of Abigail. I felt horrible for her, and I could only wonder what Creole wanted this for. But it was better for me not to think about that. I closed the file and tucked it under my armpit. The paper now changed back to a map and was leading me back towards the main entrance. Walking down the hallways was quicker now that I had an idea of where I was going, and I was back at the main entrance in no time.
The paper now told me to head up the grand staircase upstairs into one of the bedrooms. I assumed to Abigail’s room since judging by her file and the massive portrait she didn’t have a daughter. So I started making my way up the stairs, each of my footsteps echoing throughout the halls. At the top of the stairs, I was greeted by a different portrait, one of a tired-looking man in a suit. He had deep bags under his eyes and perfectly combed blonde hair.
“This must be the son,” I said as I approached the portrait. His scowl was enough to send a chill up my spine. It felt like his angry hazel eyes were staring deep into my soul. I shivered hard and quickly moved past the portrait. I reached Abigail’s room and was happy to see that it was open. The room was pristine and perfect in every way. It felt like it had been deliberately kept this way and I was intruding on a museum piece.
There, sitting on the bed, was the doll. A small little porcelain one. I was going to have to be careful lest I end up accidentally dropping and shattering it. I walked to the bed and carefully picked her up. All I had to do now was make it back to the office and I would never have to deal with shit like this ever again.
I exited the bedroom and headed towards the stairs, passing the portrait of the son. Just as I did I was suddenly and violently grabbed by the throat. In my surprise and shock at being suddenly attacked, I dropped everything I was holding to grip the mystery hand that was choking me. I watched in terror as the porcelain doll began to fall to the floor. Instead of shattering into a million pieces though it was caught in midair by something.
“May I ask what you’re doing here?” A deep voice asked me. I looked up toward the portrait and stared at it as it seemed to come to life. The son stepped right out of the portrait and continued his death hold on me while the doll floated up next to him. I don’t exactly know how he expected me to answer him, but he gave me an opportunity after he dropped me to the floor.
“Wh-” I gasped as I tried to suck in air only to be met with a skeletal goopy form staring at me from the floor. I let out a croak that was supposed to be a scream before falling backward and almost falling down the giant staircase.
“That freak sent you here, didn’t he?” The man asked as he looked down at me on the floor. The strange goopy creature slithered around him like some kind of snake before perching itself on his shoulder and letting out strange gurgles from its bright white mouth. Two beady white eyes stared down at me along with the exhausted eyes of the man who had just stepped out of a painting.
“C-Creole?” I asked him, standing up and reaching into my pocket, rubbing my thumb across my pepper spray. I didn’t know if it would do anything to him, but I needed some sort of protection and this was all I had in that department.
“Yes, that bastard,” he said as he took the file from the creature as it lifted it towards him. He took it and the moment his eyes saw the picture of his mother I could tell he wanted to kill me right there. “Why the fuck would he want this?” he asked me, his creature slithering over to me and opening its giant white maw.
“I-I don’t know! He just told me to get these things!” I told the son, quickly holding my hand up and uncapping my pepper spray. The creature stopped just before it could eat me and then quickly slithered back over to its master. I lowered my hand and watched as the creature morphed into the shape of his shadow.
“Sending a woman to do his dirty work. I knew he was pathetic but not this pathetic,” he hissed and I could immediately tell that he saw me as less than a parasite. His tired eyes were burning with rage as stared at me. I figured he was trying to figure out what to do to me. And I wasn’t going to let him think that over. I pulled my pepper spray out and quickly sprayed him with it.
That caught him off guard and he let out a pained shout, quickly covering his eyes with his arm. That summoned his creature back from his shadow, in fact as I saw him emerge once again it was obvious that the thing was his shadow. I had gotten the spray’s fumes in my own eyes and they began to sting and tears started streaming from them. I took this opportunity to sprint down the stairs. It's some miracle that I didn’t fall and break my shit.
I made it to the main entrance and quickly fished in my pocket for the skeleton key. I shoved it into the keyhole and turned it. I watched and waited for the door to finish morphing and when it did I flung the door open and slammed it shut behind me. I panted and sniffled as now my nose began to run uncontrollably along with the tears in my eyes. I felt a pair of hands hold my face up and suddenly cold water being poured onto my face.
“Jacob?” I asked as the pain and tears began to subside. His pale smiling face was more comforting to me than anything else could’ve been. I shoved my face into his bright red uniform and hugged him tightly. The floodgates opened, I don’t know if it was from the pepper spray or my latest near-death experience but I began to cry uncontrollably into Jacob’s chest. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a soft hug.
“Macedonia.” Creole’s voice broke this brief comfort session. I looked up from Jacob’s chest and whimpered softly upon seeing him there staring back at me. “I take it, that it didn’t go well?” Creole asked with a smile still on his face. I shook my head and gripped Jacob as if he was going to save me in some way.
“I-I’m sorry sir…he…he came out of the painting and..who was that?” I asked as my thoughts ran at a million miles an hour. Jacob produced a napkin from his pocket and offered it to me. I took it and wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
“That would be a lovely associate of mine. Constantine Sinclair. He doesn’t take too kindly to my antics I’m afraid. Unfortunate that you weren’t able to get those items. I would’ve loved to have that kind of information to hold over his stupid blonde hair.” Creole sighed as he sat down behind his desk.
“Where even were you?” I asked as Creole looked at me. He smiled at me and watched as Jacob continued to comfort me. He seemed to watch us for a moment as he digested the question that I had just asked him.
“I was at a lovely dinner with my other associates and Sinclair. It was going just about as well as it normally does when Sinclair suddenly stood up from the table and immediately headed towards the door. I take it you must have tripped some kind of alarm.” Creole said with a laugh as he began to drum his fingers on his desk.
I stared at him for a moment as I tried to figure out in my head where he could’ve possibly had some sort of alarm. Then I remembered the painting. Was there something about it that he could see through it? Was that how he had been able to see me inside his mansion?
Jacob helped me stand back up and bowed to the two of us before leaving the office. Creole stared at me with those giant buttons for what felt like an eternity. I was sure that he was going to do something horrible to me for this second failure to complete a task for him.
“Welp, a deal’s a deal, Mace.” He shrugged his shoulders as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re free to go.” He shooed me away as he looked down at his desk. I stood there in shock. Surely it wasn’t going to be this easy, was it? Just as I turned to leave though he stopped me.
“There is one more thing though.” The tone in which he said this sent a chill up my spine. He was giddy with excitement and also ominously followed by low chuckles. “Your daddy came to visit me the other day.”
I spun on my heels quickly and stared at him. He was resting his head on his hand and smiled at me. The smile was one of superiority over me.
“He begged me to help with his financial situation. And I’m inclined to help him. Of course, if he doesn’t think his wish over thoroughly. I’d hate to see a repeat of your friends and Jacob.” He threatened me as he drummed his fingers on his desk.
“Stay away from my family,” I warned him, even though I had nothing to back it up with. He giggled at that and stood up from his chair.
“Or what? You’ll call the police? You’ll kill me?” He hummed and shook his head. “How about a trade? I spare your father, and your mother for good measure. And you become my permanent errand girl.” His gross yellow smile sharpened into fangs as he stared at me.
I clenched my fists tightly. I had no choice. He had every good card in the deck. He had a royal flush and I had a one-of-a-kind. I wanted nothing more than to rip his head off. Maybe even go back and try and work for the blondie. But I was stuck here now in this moment.
“I want it in writing. I don’t want you changing the deal.” I demanded. He nodded quickly and reached behind his desk to produce a contract.
“Feel free to read it.” He slid it across the desk toward me. I walked over to it and looked down at it. It was everything he had told me beforehand without any fine print for me to read. He offered me a pen and twirled it around his fingers as I stared at it in thought.
“How long for?” I asked him as I took the pen from him.
“Until I get bored with you,” he said with a smile. I stared at him and then down at the paper. I love my mom and dad more than anything in this world. Including myself. So I signed the paper. I watched as my signature melted into the paper and turned into gold letters on the page.
“Wonderful! You’re free to go home. Don’t worry about Sinclair either. I’ll handle him.” He shooed me away as he rolled the paper up and caused it to disappear from his gloved fingers. I silently left his office in complete defeat. Jacob was waiting at the door for me and he opened it for me.
“Thanks…” I mumbled to him as I left the shop and started my way home. This was my life now. Stuck in a contract with a horrible voodoo monster with no possible way out until he got bored with me. I had no way of escaping this. All I had going for me was that for now, my family was safe. And really at the end of the day. That’s all I wanted.
submitted by Voodoo_Clerk to nosleep [link] [comments]
Creole dangled that final favor over my head for a few weeks. He didn’t summon me or even contact me as if he was dragging out my final task until he truly felt like doing so. While it annoyed me, I eventually found it to be a blessing. It allowed me to process everything that had happened to me and recharge my batteries. I also did my best to avoid mirrors after my hotel ordeal with my corrupted reflection. Every time I even passed a mirror it felt like at any moment she burst through the mirror and rip me into pieces.
After almost 3 weeks of silence from Creole, I was sitting home alone, having agreed to help my parents fill out their taxes while they continued to work themselves to the bone. I didn’t exactly know what I was doing but I figured that no one ever really knows what they’re doing when they fill out a tax form. I was in the process of chewing the end of my eraser when our doorbell rang.
Now I’m usually the type of person who never answers the door when the doorbell rings. If I don’t know that you’re coming over beforehand then I ain’t answering the door. But something about this doorbell felt different. And after all, I wasn’t getting anywhere with my parent’s tax forms; other than the feeling of dread with how badly we were faring even with both of them working two jobs. So I stood up from the kitchen table and made my way over to the door.
“Jacob?” I asked with surprise and a bit of shock when I saw the bellboy standing at my door. He waved to me happily and then reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me. I took it from him and was greeted by the familiar handwriting that Creole’s notes carried. “Why didn’t he just call me?” I asked Jacob, forgetting that Creole’s bellboy was now a mute. He simply pointed at the envelope. I looked down at it, opened it, and began to read.
“Mace! So sorry that I’m not able to call you. I’m currently out of town on a business trip. But this is the perfect opportunity for your final favor! Jacob is here to lead you to the shop where I’ve left further instructions. And don’t worry about anyone seeing y’all. Not like anyone will believe ya if you told em. Best regards, K.C.”
That last sentence felt like a threat. It was something that existed constantly in the back of my mind. Especially after I found out that Creole had the police in his pocket. It was best to just grit my teeth, get this final favor done, and never have to think of Ol’ King Creole’s Half Priced Voodoo Store ever again.
“Just give me a minute to get my things,” I told Jacob. He nodded quickly and gave me a thumbs-up. He was such a different person now that it was scary. I hadn’t known Jacob well in high school but seeing him like this caused me to feel sorry for him. He certainly didn’t deserve this, it wasn’t his fault that I had gotten stabbed by one of his customers. And yet it was my fault that he was now a servant of the same monster that held my own life in his gloved hands.
I allowed Jacob into the house while I headed upstairs, followed by the thoughts that filled me with guilt over what had happened to him. I applied more of Creole’s ointment so that my scar and stitches would continue to be hidden. I gathered my lockpicking tools and my pepper spray and finally joined Jacob downstairs. He was busy looking at the pictures hung up on my wall and when he noticed me he quickly spun on his heels and gave me a salute, a cheery smile on his stitched-up mouth.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I told him, barely able to stand his overly cheery demeanor. He nodded and followed me outside. I locked the door and followed him as he led me toward the voodoo store. As I followed Jacob, I took the letter he had given me and started reading it again. Something was bothering me.
“Where the hell does he need to go to be on a business trip?” I asked Jacob, again as if the mute bellboy could answer me. He shrugged his shoulders as he continued down the sidewalk. I looked back down at the letter and suddenly got a terrible feeling about something. Were there other freaks like Creole? If one freak exists, it only makes sense that others also exist. This horrible line of thought was abruptly halted when I walked into Jacob. I was about to get pissed at him but then I realized that we’d arrived at the voodoo shop.
“Oh,” I said, my cheeks getting warm with embarrassment. I had been so absorbed in my thoughts that we’d arrived in record time. Jacob just smiled and opened the door for me, I mouthed a quick thanks and entered the shop hoping to leave my embarrassment outside. Every voodoo doll quickly turned to look at me as soon as I entered. I quickly held my hands up to show them that it was me, and Jacob entering the store behind me put them all at ease. I guessed that they were some sort of security system for when their boss was away.
Jacob led me to Creole’s office and as we passed the basement door whatever was down there quickly began pounding at the door. It surprised me so badly that I screamed and quickly rushed past Jacob toward the office, putting as much distance as I could from the creature in the basement. I entered Creole’s office and quickly sat myself down on the comfy chair where I had received my life-saving surgery from Creole. Jacob followed after me and closed the door behind us.
He went behind Creole’s desk and began searching for something. I meanwhile finally took full notice of Creole’s office, since the last time I had been there I had been on death’s door. His office was filled with photos with a grand majority of them being scratched out in some way. All except one on his desk. I reached out and grabbed the picture frame to look at it. It was an old black-and-white photo of a man and a woman.
“Is that…” I held the photo closer to my eyes to examine it. The man was tall with messy black hair. “Creole?” I whispered to myself as the figure in the picture was a dead-ringer for Creole. Of course minus the button eyes and stitches across his mouth and neck. Just as I was about to examine the woman, the photo was suddenly snatched from my hands. I just about had a heart attack thinking that Creole had somehow returned and taken it from me. But it was only Jacob with more of my directions.
“Right, sorry,” I told him as I accepted the couple of pieces of paper he handed to me. There were Creole’s usual doodles of what I had to retrieve though these were the strangest ones yet. Though thinking back now it certainly seemed hard to top a clock that caused you to decay and a mirror that creates a horror version of yourself.
Creole wanted me to steal some sort of file and a porcelain doll. The porcelain doll made sense, the wall of voodoo dolls was enough to prove Creole’s obsession with dolls. But the file was what interested me more. What exactly did he want that for? Was it some sort of haunted file or something? I looked at the next page which was another letter. Why he couldn’t have just told me everything in the first letter was lost to me.
“Mace! By now Jacob should’ve given you the target of my current desire. After you’ve finished reading this and are ready to begin your final favor he’ll take you to your target. And I’m sure you’re dying to know where it is. It’s in a lovely Massachusetts mansion! The owner rarely ever goes there anymore so it should be a walk in the park for you! Just this last favor and you can finally go free.” He didn’t bother signing this one, but I could care less. The third paper appeared to be completely blank, so I just shoved that into my pocket with everything else.
“Well, I guess I’m ready,” I told Jacob as I stood up. He nodded and reached into his pocket. He rummaged around in there for a moment before he pulled out a key. The bow of it was a skull, which probably meant that it was a skeleton key of some sort. I’m sure Creole had gotten a kick out of it for that reason. The bellboy inserted the key into Creole’s office door and turned it. Before my eyes and Jacob’s buttons, the door began to morph and change into a much more ornate and fancier one. The golden initials CS were stamped onto each door and Jacob swung the door open for me.
“Wish me luck,” I said as he handed to key to me. I assumed so I could make a quick escape if the situation called for it. He held a thumbs up and waved goodbye to me as I stepped through the doors.
I had to blink my eyes furiously after entering the mansion as I was blasted with natural lighting that blinded me when compared to the dimly lit voodoo shop. This place was massive, from a giant chandelier above my head, to massive windows that let in plenty of sunlight into the mansion. But even despite its grandeur it felt, cold. Both in temperature and in feeling. It was the beginning of fall but even so, there wasn’t any reason for it to be this cold. Cold enough to see my breath. I shivered as I took my few steps forward into the mansion.
Right at the entrance next to the grand staircase was a giant family portrait of who I at first assumed were the owners of this massive palace. But judging by the clothes the woman was wearing and the style of suit the older man was wearing I quickly judged that they must be some kind of ancestors. The woman and man both had their hands on the boy in front of them. The mother and I assumed her son both had blonde hair, while the father had thick brown hair with a giant mustache.
“Where would this file be?” I wondered to myself after a moment of staring at the giant portrait. I reached into my pocket to try and find something in Creole’s notes. And to my surprise, the previously blank sheet of paper had suddenly transformed into a map of the mansion. To my surprise the file wasn’t located upstairs but in a downstairs office. Armed with this knowledge, I started making my way towards it, checking the map every so often so that I wouldn’t become lost in the maze of hallways and rooms that this mansion possessed.
The cold started getting to me as I shivered uncontrollably and vapors of breath poured from my mouth. The quicker I got this over with the better, not only as my final favor but because I wasn’t about to have myself catch a cold over this. Finally, I made it to the correct door. I tried to turn the knob and found it locked. I half expected this to just be a snatch-and-go, but I supposed that there was a reason Creole sent me.
Getting on my knees and warming up my hands with my breath, I quickly went about trying to pick this lock. What immediately struck me was how old this lock was. Not like rusty and about to fall apart old but in design old. I’d never come across a lock like this and I had to figure out how to actually go about picking it. My shaking hands and body also added to my struggles and I dropped my tools on more than one occasion.
Finally, after ten minutes of fumbling, cursing, and giving up once, I finally managed to open the door. “Let’s fucking go!” I shouted in excitement. Covering my mouth quickly as my voice echoed throughout the mansion. I quickly entered the room and closed the door behind me. I was surprised to see that it wasn’t an office, but more like a storage room with a few boxes and filing cabinets. He really wasn’t going to make this easy on me, was he?
I opened a few of the filing cabinets and found many of them empty, which sped up the process of finding the file I needed. It was the second to last one that finally yielded results. The only problem was that this cabinet was full of files. Just as I was about to try and steal all of them, one of them caught my eye. I was flipping through them and cursing Creole with every file that I flicked past when one felt different from the others. Mostly because it had a paperclip attached to it and a photo. I pulled this file out and looked down at it. The picture was of a woman who looked exactly like the woman at the entrance of the mansion. Opening it I read through it a little.
Abigail A. Sinclair.
Fell into deep and uncontrollable hysteria after the death of her husband, Cornelius A. Sinclair, and the return of her son from the war. Her son has seen fit to place her under the care of the Boston Psychopathic Hospital. Her son has requested that he not be informed of her progress or if she passes away in our care.
“Jeez,” I said as I flipped through more of the file. The most striking were two photos, one was of Abigail when she was mentally well and the next was her locked in a straight jacket and completely a shell of her former elegant self. Her hair was wild and her face was twisted into a look of intense fear and sorrow. I reached into my pocket to consult my magic pages and found that the map had now turned into a simple phrase.
“That one,” was all it said now. I looked back down at the file and stared at the haunting eyes of Abigail. I felt horrible for her, and I could only wonder what Creole wanted this for. But it was better for me not to think about that. I closed the file and tucked it under my armpit. The paper now changed back to a map and was leading me back towards the main entrance. Walking down the hallways was quicker now that I had an idea of where I was going, and I was back at the main entrance in no time.
The paper now told me to head up the grand staircase upstairs into one of the bedrooms. I assumed to Abigail’s room since judging by her file and the massive portrait she didn’t have a daughter. So I started making my way up the stairs, each of my footsteps echoing throughout the halls. At the top of the stairs, I was greeted by a different portrait, one of a tired-looking man in a suit. He had deep bags under his eyes and perfectly combed blonde hair.
“This must be the son,” I said as I approached the portrait. His scowl was enough to send a chill up my spine. It felt like his angry hazel eyes were staring deep into my soul. I shivered hard and quickly moved past the portrait. I reached Abigail’s room and was happy to see that it was open. The room was pristine and perfect in every way. It felt like it had been deliberately kept this way and I was intruding on a museum piece.
There, sitting on the bed, was the doll. A small little porcelain one. I was going to have to be careful lest I end up accidentally dropping and shattering it. I walked to the bed and carefully picked her up. All I had to do now was make it back to the office and I would never have to deal with shit like this ever again.
I exited the bedroom and headed towards the stairs, passing the portrait of the son. Just as I did I was suddenly and violently grabbed by the throat. In my surprise and shock at being suddenly attacked, I dropped everything I was holding to grip the mystery hand that was choking me. I watched in terror as the porcelain doll began to fall to the floor. Instead of shattering into a million pieces though it was caught in midair by something.
“May I ask what you’re doing here?” A deep voice asked me. I looked up toward the portrait and stared at it as it seemed to come to life. The son stepped right out of the portrait and continued his death hold on me while the doll floated up next to him. I don’t exactly know how he expected me to answer him, but he gave me an opportunity after he dropped me to the floor.
“Wh-” I gasped as I tried to suck in air only to be met with a skeletal goopy form staring at me from the floor. I let out a croak that was supposed to be a scream before falling backward and almost falling down the giant staircase.
“That freak sent you here, didn’t he?” The man asked as he looked down at me on the floor. The strange goopy creature slithered around him like some kind of snake before perching itself on his shoulder and letting out strange gurgles from its bright white mouth. Two beady white eyes stared down at me along with the exhausted eyes of the man who had just stepped out of a painting.
“C-Creole?” I asked him, standing up and reaching into my pocket, rubbing my thumb across my pepper spray. I didn’t know if it would do anything to him, but I needed some sort of protection and this was all I had in that department.
“Yes, that bastard,” he said as he took the file from the creature as it lifted it towards him. He took it and the moment his eyes saw the picture of his mother I could tell he wanted to kill me right there. “Why the fuck would he want this?” he asked me, his creature slithering over to me and opening its giant white maw.
“I-I don’t know! He just told me to get these things!” I told the son, quickly holding my hand up and uncapping my pepper spray. The creature stopped just before it could eat me and then quickly slithered back over to its master. I lowered my hand and watched as the creature morphed into the shape of his shadow.
“Sending a woman to do his dirty work. I knew he was pathetic but not this pathetic,” he hissed and I could immediately tell that he saw me as less than a parasite. His tired eyes were burning with rage as stared at me. I figured he was trying to figure out what to do to me. And I wasn’t going to let him think that over. I pulled my pepper spray out and quickly sprayed him with it.
That caught him off guard and he let out a pained shout, quickly covering his eyes with his arm. That summoned his creature back from his shadow, in fact as I saw him emerge once again it was obvious that the thing was his shadow. I had gotten the spray’s fumes in my own eyes and they began to sting and tears started streaming from them. I took this opportunity to sprint down the stairs. It's some miracle that I didn’t fall and break my shit.
I made it to the main entrance and quickly fished in my pocket for the skeleton key. I shoved it into the keyhole and turned it. I watched and waited for the door to finish morphing and when it did I flung the door open and slammed it shut behind me. I panted and sniffled as now my nose began to run uncontrollably along with the tears in my eyes. I felt a pair of hands hold my face up and suddenly cold water being poured onto my face.
“Jacob?” I asked as the pain and tears began to subside. His pale smiling face was more comforting to me than anything else could’ve been. I shoved my face into his bright red uniform and hugged him tightly. The floodgates opened, I don’t know if it was from the pepper spray or my latest near-death experience but I began to cry uncontrollably into Jacob’s chest. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a soft hug.
“Macedonia.” Creole’s voice broke this brief comfort session. I looked up from Jacob’s chest and whimpered softly upon seeing him there staring back at me. “I take it, that it didn’t go well?” Creole asked with a smile still on his face. I shook my head and gripped Jacob as if he was going to save me in some way.
“I-I’m sorry sir…he…he came out of the painting and..who was that?” I asked as my thoughts ran at a million miles an hour. Jacob produced a napkin from his pocket and offered it to me. I took it and wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
“That would be a lovely associate of mine. Constantine Sinclair. He doesn’t take too kindly to my antics I’m afraid. Unfortunate that you weren’t able to get those items. I would’ve loved to have that kind of information to hold over his stupid blonde hair.” Creole sighed as he sat down behind his desk.
“Where even were you?” I asked as Creole looked at me. He smiled at me and watched as Jacob continued to comfort me. He seemed to watch us for a moment as he digested the question that I had just asked him.
“I was at a lovely dinner with my other associates and Sinclair. It was going just about as well as it normally does when Sinclair suddenly stood up from the table and immediately headed towards the door. I take it you must have tripped some kind of alarm.” Creole said with a laugh as he began to drum his fingers on his desk.
I stared at him for a moment as I tried to figure out in my head where he could’ve possibly had some sort of alarm. Then I remembered the painting. Was there something about it that he could see through it? Was that how he had been able to see me inside his mansion?
Jacob helped me stand back up and bowed to the two of us before leaving the office. Creole stared at me with those giant buttons for what felt like an eternity. I was sure that he was going to do something horrible to me for this second failure to complete a task for him.
“Welp, a deal’s a deal, Mace.” He shrugged his shoulders as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re free to go.” He shooed me away as he looked down at his desk. I stood there in shock. Surely it wasn’t going to be this easy, was it? Just as I turned to leave though he stopped me.
“There is one more thing though.” The tone in which he said this sent a chill up my spine. He was giddy with excitement and also ominously followed by low chuckles. “Your daddy came to visit me the other day.”
I spun on my heels quickly and stared at him. He was resting his head on his hand and smiled at me. The smile was one of superiority over me.
“He begged me to help with his financial situation. And I’m inclined to help him. Of course, if he doesn’t think his wish over thoroughly. I’d hate to see a repeat of your friends and Jacob.” He threatened me as he drummed his fingers on his desk.
“Stay away from my family,” I warned him, even though I had nothing to back it up with. He giggled at that and stood up from his chair.
“Or what? You’ll call the police? You’ll kill me?” He hummed and shook his head. “How about a trade? I spare your father, and your mother for good measure. And you become my permanent errand girl.” His gross yellow smile sharpened into fangs as he stared at me.
I clenched my fists tightly. I had no choice. He had every good card in the deck. He had a royal flush and I had a one-of-a-kind. I wanted nothing more than to rip his head off. Maybe even go back and try and work for the blondie. But I was stuck here now in this moment.
“I want it in writing. I don’t want you changing the deal.” I demanded. He nodded quickly and reached behind his desk to produce a contract.
“Feel free to read it.” He slid it across the desk toward me. I walked over to it and looked down at it. It was everything he had told me beforehand without any fine print for me to read. He offered me a pen and twirled it around his fingers as I stared at it in thought.
“How long for?” I asked him as I took the pen from him.
“Until I get bored with you,” he said with a smile. I stared at him and then down at the paper. I love my mom and dad more than anything in this world. Including myself. So I signed the paper. I watched as my signature melted into the paper and turned into gold letters on the page.
“Wonderful! You’re free to go home. Don’t worry about Sinclair either. I’ll handle him.” He shooed me away as he rolled the paper up and caused it to disappear from his gloved fingers. I silently left his office in complete defeat. Jacob was waiting at the door for me and he opened it for me.
“Thanks…” I mumbled to him as I left the shop and started my way home. This was my life now. Stuck in a contract with a horrible voodoo monster with no possible way out until he got bored with me. I had no way of escaping this. All I had going for me was that for now, my family was safe. And really at the end of the day. That’s all I wanted.
2024.05.18 01:22 Objective-Farm-2560 Doctor's Orders: Chapter 3
Thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NoP-verse and allowing fanfics!
This was co-written with u/ImaginationSea3679 and is a sequel to The Way of the Human!
Prequel startPrequel endFirstPrevious
Memory transcription subject: Thass, Arxur-UN Cooperative Liaison
Date [standardised human time]: 27th of November, 2136
The cursed meeting was taking far longer than I could bear, and much the same could be said to the pathetic diplomats we were negotiating with. Despite their initial bravado, it quickly wore off and they grew fearful of my presence. So when a recess was suggested, I was relieved that it was agreed upon that we would spend [45 minutes] away from the bureaucracy for a decently timed break.
I sighed as I reclined myself in a chair. Human furniture was extremely comfortable, more than it probably had any right to be. The leaf-licking predators were arguably soft, but they had a fierce streak hidden under that calm and weak persona. The speed at which I’d seen a personality shift in some humans was so sudden I sometimes wondered if I was even talking to the same person when it happened.
What was I thinking about again?
Oh, right, furniture.
…
Well, I have no other thoughts on the furniture. I should move on.
Helaven and Barisis were eagerly munching on salads and fruits respectively. I myself had myself a freshly cooked steak, which Barisis was trying to avert her eyes from. Human food was really starting to grow on me. I had already come to enjoy the higher quality meat from my time on Earth, but the longer I had it in my diet, the more I came to appreciate the tiniest of details in the flavour.
The slight char from the ‘cooking’ process was a surprisingly savoury addition, creating a contrast from other meats. If I had the opportunity, I wished to further explore the possibilities offered by Terran cuisine. Learning how to correctly burn the meat would be a terrific way of enhancing the flavour. It was supposedly one of humanity’s greatest feats, so that only made me more eager to-
I was caught off guard by a smoky scent that most definitely did not come from my meal. Was another piece of meat being cooked?
Sniff
EURGH, FUCK!
The deep breath meant to identify the horrid smell instead sent me into a coughing fit. It was like I was breathing in toxic fumes!
“Fucking- cough -Prophet!” I wheezed, feeling like my lungs were being stabbed by hundreds of tiny needles. “What is that- cough -horrible smoke- cough -in the air!?”
I turned to see a human female holding some sort of roll of paper that had been set on fire. The human then proceeded to-
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” Helaven shouted as I stared in both awe and absolute terror.
This human was literally breathing cinders and smoke without any sort of complaint.
“I’m taking a smoke. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” The human said with an almost incredulous expression.
Was this sort of extreme toughness normal?!
“YOU JUST INHALED FUCKING SMOKE! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?!” Barisis joined Helaven in her screeching. “HAVE HUMANS SOMEHOW MISSED THE DANGERS OF SMOKE INHALATION!?”
The possibly deranged human looked confused. “I’m just taking the edge off, what’s the problem?”
“What’s with all the screaming?” asked an annoyed Hans who had just arrived, accompanied by a meek looking Udey. “I’m on the verge of a God damn headache, so please, just stop it.”
“It’s the xenos who are yelling!” defended the insane human. “I’m just trying to have a smoke and they’re acting like I just kicked a puppy.”
The human Captain sighed. “Jana, you know how things are,” he began, looking at the now named human. “Aliens don’t know what smoking is, they have no idea what to think. Just try to explain to them what it is you’re doing instead.”
“What reasonable explanation is there for burning one's lungs?” I questioned, still baffled by what I was seeing. “And a soldier who needs to be in tip top condition, no less!”
“That's what the kerfuffle was about?” the nervous Harchen Minister spoke. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm with the Grey on this one. How can one justify the thing it-... he described?”
Gendered pronouns already? My, my, he's quick to learn how to address me properly.
“Well it helps me focus, alright?” Jana explained grumpily. “Helps get rid of stress.”
“You mean to tell me that smoke isn’t poisonous to you?” wondered Barisis, sounding amazed. “That would make you incredibly powerful against Exterminators. The ashen air wouldn't harm you!”
Hans sucked in a breath, hesitating a moment before speaking. “About that…”
“Don't tell me it is bad for you, yet you still allow her to do it,” the aqua-skinned medic said, sounding like she already knew the answer. “Please, Hans, captain of this whole operation. Tell me that this is not the case.”
A voice different from Hans answered. “Nope, you're correct. Lung cancer is a bitch and that lady there is gonna get intimately familiar with it soon.”
It was Tyler, the human who introduced Risha and her… Venlil lover to the defector Vraka.
I’d decided not to mention either defecting Arxur to my superiors when bringing in that scumbag Vizz, as they clearly didn't seem up for battle for much longer. I was saving rations that would ultimately be wasted as they’d be executed for being defective. It wasn't about mercy, it was purely logical. By sparing them, they’d no longer be our problem and the real traitor was brought to justice either way.
Oh how I enjoyed seeing Chief Hunter Isif gut that bastard Vizz’s with his bare claws. And shooting the corpse a couple times for good measure had also felt pretty good.
Informing the Chief Hunter just how Vizz was defeated was almost just as good. Taken to a draw by a measly Venlil, infamously one of the weakest species in the galaxy. The humiliation that traitor felt in his final moments was better than even the juiciest cut off meat.
Pulling my mind back to the present, I noticed that the two prey medics were still arguing with the ‘smoker’ Jana.
“...incredibly serious afflictions, yet you give yourself them willingly?!” exclaimed Helaven in exasperation.
“Look, it's my concern, not yours, so shove it,” replied the female soldier with a hostile tone. “Quit whining or it’ll burn up before I can smoke it.”
I decided that after my bout of silence it was time to voice my opinion on the matter. “Excuse my language, but why the actual fuck haven’t you detained this woman for her complete and utter insanity?” came the question, directed at Captain Hans.
Hans opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the female human. “It’s my fucking body. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with it, Lizard.”
That hardly seemed like an excuse to me. The body was a sacred thing. It was one’s embodiment in the galaxy, and to actively damage it of one’s own will without care for the consequences was not only idiotic, but beyond disrespectful to oneself.
I found my thoughts being agreed upon as Barisis scoffed. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.” She pointed an accusatory tentacle at the human.
“Well, your kin shouldn’t have engineered the galaxy to conform with your primitive bullshit excuse of a worldview, yet you still did it for no other reason other than because you could!”
…
Silence permeated through the room as the Kolshian shrunk, her skin seeming to both pale and darken, a remorseful expression developing on her face. Helaven immediately went to comfort her.
“Jana…” Hans said as my attention was brought to him and the stern expression he bore on his face. “That was completely uncalled for and needlessly hurtful.”
“Yeah,” Tyler said. “Very not cool.”
Feeling oddly offended by the human’s harsh words toward Barisis, I decided to defend the Kolshian’s honour. “If she shared her government’s and people's views, she would have remained on Aafa with the rest of them,” I stated coolly, though adding an edge of anger to ensure that my opinion came through clearly. “The fact that she is able to bear being in close proximity to not only your species, but mine, should be all the evidence required to debunk the idea that she subscribes to her society’s ideals.”
Then, the Kolshian in question did something entirely unexpected.
She left her open position and took cover behind me, shielding herself from the hostile human female. Even more shockingly, she grabbed a hold of my tail, as though it would further protect her.
Did she… find comfort in my presence? No, no, that couldn't be possible. She simply sees me as the biggest piece of cover available.
“They're just concerned for your health, dude,” Tyler pointed out, gesturing to the medics and myself.
Jana huffed. “Whatever. I’ll just go smoke somewhere else.”
With that she left, forcing me to hold my breath as she passed, lest I breathe in that horrid smoke.
“Urgh, dammit, my head is pounding,” complained Hans, sounding exasperated to a degree I had never heard from him before. “I need some water or else I’ll be stuck with this for the rest of the day.”
With that, he left, Tyler following behind him.
The tentacles of the prey medic let go of me as she no longer needed to protect herself from the harshness of the huntress-soldier. She looked at me timidly, as though she expected me to yell at her for her behaviour. Instead I gazed at her with a mostly blank expression before she sheepishly returned to her salad bowl.
With the drama over, I returned to my meal, scarfing it down with speedy efficiency. While I’d been enjoying its flavour, the fight, and all the talking that had come with it, had drained my desire to savour it. The quick influx of flavours was good, but I washed it down with a glass of water.
Quite surprisingly, Udey, who openly disliked me, sat down at our table, taking a seat by Helaven.
“Do humans really do that kind of thing often?” he asked. I noticed despite being in such close proximity to me, he remained relatively relaxed.
It was a truly strange thing when I thought about it. So many leaf-lickers, who only mere [months] ago would've cowered at the sight of me, now tolerate, or possibly even enjoy, my presence. The change felt almost unnatural to me.
And yet… I didn't dislike it. It was like I was experiencing how the galaxy was meant to be. Of course, that was impossible, as predators were superior to other life, with Arxur on top. It was probably just that these prey were particularly tolerable for their kind. Yes, that was what it was. And the Harchen were former omnivores, which meant their natural state made them closer to us than they would've wanted to admit. They, and all other ‘cured’ species, were our mutilated kin. It was their right to be restored to the status of true sapients.
If possible, I wanted to convince our leaders to take up that goal. We would no longer be anomalies, or a coincidence. We would have dozens of our sort. We were at the top, of course, but they would be tolerated by the rest of the Dominion. A brotherhood of hunters. Quite an appealing concept, in my opinion.
Leaving the maze of thoughts in my mind, I noticed the two medics and the minister were having a blast of a conversation, with humans as their topic of discussion.
“No, you're messing with me,” chuckled the Harchen. “There is no way that they're the weakest of their family.”
“It's true!” Barisis exclaimed. “Out of all the apes, the animal family humans belong to, they have the least muscle mass. A wild ape is stronger than even a highly trained human.”
Udey guffawed in amusement. “That is unreasonably funny. To think we were afraid of them!”
Really? If what the Kolshian says is true, that's very interesting. No wonder humans prefer ranged weapons. I knew they were physically weaker than us, but I didn't realise they were also weaker than the beasts of their own planet.
“They still have binocular vision like my kind. And as arboreal descendants, I’d wager their eyesight is even better than ours. That means they can see you from very far away, Minister,” I added to the conversation, watching the colouration thin in Udey’s scales.
“I see…” he murmured, sounding put off. “How… comforting…”
“Quite,” I mock-agreed. “They’re always watching, those humans. Ever vigilant. Ever-seeing.”“Thass, you arse, stop it,” Barisis commanded. My snout shifted as the front of my lips curled, an equivalent gesture to when Hans would raise an eyebrow at his underlings’ actions. “He’s uncomfortable, so you’re doing to stop it.”“Are you ordering me, prey?” I asked, adding a twinge of hostility that normally wouldn’t be there.
The aqua Kolshian was unfazed, a massive change from a month ago. “Maybe it was. What are you going to do about it?”
Such a brave, foolhardy thing, she is.
I snapped my jaws at her, making her flinch ever so slightly, but otherwise she didn’t move. Her unwavering made me let out an impressed chuckle. “Very well then, doctor. I’ll listen, for now…”
“And the next time too,” she responded confidently. “You like to bluff, but I know you’re full of it.”
“Want to stake your tentacle on that claim?” I asked with a cold but tone. Though I was amused, I didn’t let much of it show externally.
Wordlessly she stuck out her limb. A month ago, she had been afraid that I would eat her. And yet now she was goading me into taking a bite out of her. She wasn’t just foolhardy, she was downright overconfident.
Moving my head toward the outstretched manipulator, my powerful jaws opened as I got closer. Udey and even Helaven looked worried, but the Aafa native did not. Even as her tentacle was in my mouth, she didn’t pull away.
Saliva dripped onto her, making her shudder. And yet she still refused to back down.
She’s not just toying with death, she was outright tempting it, goading me into trying. I don’t know if I should be impressed, bewildered or both.
Unwilling to back down, I took it a step further and ran my tongue across her limb. The taste of her skin was pleasant to the palate, much better than the steak I just had. As I had to have won with that step-up, I waited for her to register what I did.
Out of all the responses I expected, amusement wasn’t one. “You’re gross,” the medic snickered.
I started to laugh, stunned and awed by her lack of fear. She was a mere meek prey, yet was entirely unafraid of my powerful jaws ensnaring her precious body parts. It was so ridiculous it became funny!
My laughter soon became full on cackling as I relented, letting Barisis win. “You are really one brave Kolshian!” I chortled. “An exemplary specimen of your kind!”
“Wuss,” she chuckled jokingly, far more amused than the Harchen or her colleague sitting across from her.
“Don’t count on me backing down again, Barisis,” I jested. “You taste far better than anything I’ve eaten in the past [weeks].”
Unexpectedly, Helaven snorted.
“Something funny, Hel?” asked the Kolshian quizzically.
She snickered, having to take a moment to speak. “Spicy~”
“How DARE you!?” I roared in genuine offence. “To accuse me of… feeling for prey! Urgh, no!”
I stormed off, absolutely fuming. The Zurulian had the nerve to accuse me of such defectiveness to think I could develop weak feelings for a weak creature. The very thought made me sick to my stomach. Quite clearly she was too used to Risha’s less-than-standard tastes to assume that I would share her tastes. Herbivores were unworthy of my mere gaze! She should be honoured that I speak to her at all! The fucking gall to call me defective in the vilest way…
If it weren’t for our truce with humanity, I would rip her worthless spine out here and now.
My legs had carried me by themselves as I brooded in rage and had taken me far in a short time, having walked out of the building entirely without realising. I was furious with that fucking Zurulian, and wasn’t planning to speak with h- it, nor the Kolshian, anytime soon. Fucking bitch…
submitted by Objective-Farm-2560 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
This was co-written with u/ImaginationSea3679 and is a sequel to The Way of the Human!
Prequel startPrequel endFirstPrevious
Memory transcription subject: Thass, Arxur-UN Cooperative Liaison
Date [standardised human time]: 27th of November, 2136
The cursed meeting was taking far longer than I could bear, and much the same could be said to the pathetic diplomats we were negotiating with. Despite their initial bravado, it quickly wore off and they grew fearful of my presence. So when a recess was suggested, I was relieved that it was agreed upon that we would spend [45 minutes] away from the bureaucracy for a decently timed break.
I sighed as I reclined myself in a chair. Human furniture was extremely comfortable, more than it probably had any right to be. The leaf-licking predators were arguably soft, but they had a fierce streak hidden under that calm and weak persona. The speed at which I’d seen a personality shift in some humans was so sudden I sometimes wondered if I was even talking to the same person when it happened.
What was I thinking about again?
Oh, right, furniture.
…
Well, I have no other thoughts on the furniture. I should move on.
Helaven and Barisis were eagerly munching on salads and fruits respectively. I myself had myself a freshly cooked steak, which Barisis was trying to avert her eyes from. Human food was really starting to grow on me. I had already come to enjoy the higher quality meat from my time on Earth, but the longer I had it in my diet, the more I came to appreciate the tiniest of details in the flavour.
The slight char from the ‘cooking’ process was a surprisingly savoury addition, creating a contrast from other meats. If I had the opportunity, I wished to further explore the possibilities offered by Terran cuisine. Learning how to correctly burn the meat would be a terrific way of enhancing the flavour. It was supposedly one of humanity’s greatest feats, so that only made me more eager to-
I was caught off guard by a smoky scent that most definitely did not come from my meal. Was another piece of meat being cooked?
Sniff
EURGH, FUCK!
The deep breath meant to identify the horrid smell instead sent me into a coughing fit. It was like I was breathing in toxic fumes!
“Fucking- cough -Prophet!” I wheezed, feeling like my lungs were being stabbed by hundreds of tiny needles. “What is that- cough -horrible smoke- cough -in the air!?”
I turned to see a human female holding some sort of roll of paper that had been set on fire. The human then proceeded to-
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” Helaven shouted as I stared in both awe and absolute terror.
This human was literally breathing cinders and smoke without any sort of complaint.
“I’m taking a smoke. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” The human said with an almost incredulous expression.
Was this sort of extreme toughness normal?!
“YOU JUST INHALED FUCKING SMOKE! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?!” Barisis joined Helaven in her screeching. “HAVE HUMANS SOMEHOW MISSED THE DANGERS OF SMOKE INHALATION!?”
The possibly deranged human looked confused. “I’m just taking the edge off, what’s the problem?”
“What’s with all the screaming?” asked an annoyed Hans who had just arrived, accompanied by a meek looking Udey. “I’m on the verge of a God damn headache, so please, just stop it.”
“It’s the xenos who are yelling!” defended the insane human. “I’m just trying to have a smoke and they’re acting like I just kicked a puppy.”
The human Captain sighed. “Jana, you know how things are,” he began, looking at the now named human. “Aliens don’t know what smoking is, they have no idea what to think. Just try to explain to them what it is you’re doing instead.”
“What reasonable explanation is there for burning one's lungs?” I questioned, still baffled by what I was seeing. “And a soldier who needs to be in tip top condition, no less!”
“That's what the kerfuffle was about?” the nervous Harchen Minister spoke. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm with the Grey on this one. How can one justify the thing it-... he described?”
Gendered pronouns already? My, my, he's quick to learn how to address me properly.
“Well it helps me focus, alright?” Jana explained grumpily. “Helps get rid of stress.”
“You mean to tell me that smoke isn’t poisonous to you?” wondered Barisis, sounding amazed. “That would make you incredibly powerful against Exterminators. The ashen air wouldn't harm you!”
Hans sucked in a breath, hesitating a moment before speaking. “About that…”
“Don't tell me it is bad for you, yet you still allow her to do it,” the aqua-skinned medic said, sounding like she already knew the answer. “Please, Hans, captain of this whole operation. Tell me that this is not the case.”
A voice different from Hans answered. “Nope, you're correct. Lung cancer is a bitch and that lady there is gonna get intimately familiar with it soon.”
It was Tyler, the human who introduced Risha and her… Venlil lover to the defector Vraka.
I’d decided not to mention either defecting Arxur to my superiors when bringing in that scumbag Vizz, as they clearly didn't seem up for battle for much longer. I was saving rations that would ultimately be wasted as they’d be executed for being defective. It wasn't about mercy, it was purely logical. By sparing them, they’d no longer be our problem and the real traitor was brought to justice either way.
Oh how I enjoyed seeing Chief Hunter Isif gut that bastard Vizz’s with his bare claws. And shooting the corpse a couple times for good measure had also felt pretty good.
Informing the Chief Hunter just how Vizz was defeated was almost just as good. Taken to a draw by a measly Venlil, infamously one of the weakest species in the galaxy. The humiliation that traitor felt in his final moments was better than even the juiciest cut off meat.
Pulling my mind back to the present, I noticed that the two prey medics were still arguing with the ‘smoker’ Jana.
“...incredibly serious afflictions, yet you give yourself them willingly?!” exclaimed Helaven in exasperation.
“Look, it's my concern, not yours, so shove it,” replied the female soldier with a hostile tone. “Quit whining or it’ll burn up before I can smoke it.”
I decided that after my bout of silence it was time to voice my opinion on the matter. “Excuse my language, but why the actual fuck haven’t you detained this woman for her complete and utter insanity?” came the question, directed at Captain Hans.
Hans opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the female human. “It’s my fucking body. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with it, Lizard.”
That hardly seemed like an excuse to me. The body was a sacred thing. It was one’s embodiment in the galaxy, and to actively damage it of one’s own will without care for the consequences was not only idiotic, but beyond disrespectful to oneself.
I found my thoughts being agreed upon as Barisis scoffed. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.” She pointed an accusatory tentacle at the human.
“Well, your kin shouldn’t have engineered the galaxy to conform with your primitive bullshit excuse of a worldview, yet you still did it for no other reason other than because you could!”
…
Silence permeated through the room as the Kolshian shrunk, her skin seeming to both pale and darken, a remorseful expression developing on her face. Helaven immediately went to comfort her.
“Jana…” Hans said as my attention was brought to him and the stern expression he bore on his face. “That was completely uncalled for and needlessly hurtful.”
“Yeah,” Tyler said. “Very not cool.”
Feeling oddly offended by the human’s harsh words toward Barisis, I decided to defend the Kolshian’s honour. “If she shared her government’s and people's views, she would have remained on Aafa with the rest of them,” I stated coolly, though adding an edge of anger to ensure that my opinion came through clearly. “The fact that she is able to bear being in close proximity to not only your species, but mine, should be all the evidence required to debunk the idea that she subscribes to her society’s ideals.”
Then, the Kolshian in question did something entirely unexpected.
She left her open position and took cover behind me, shielding herself from the hostile human female. Even more shockingly, she grabbed a hold of my tail, as though it would further protect her.
Did she… find comfort in my presence? No, no, that couldn't be possible. She simply sees me as the biggest piece of cover available.
“They're just concerned for your health, dude,” Tyler pointed out, gesturing to the medics and myself.
Jana huffed. “Whatever. I’ll just go smoke somewhere else.”
With that she left, forcing me to hold my breath as she passed, lest I breathe in that horrid smoke.
“Urgh, dammit, my head is pounding,” complained Hans, sounding exasperated to a degree I had never heard from him before. “I need some water or else I’ll be stuck with this for the rest of the day.”
With that, he left, Tyler following behind him.
The tentacles of the prey medic let go of me as she no longer needed to protect herself from the harshness of the huntress-soldier. She looked at me timidly, as though she expected me to yell at her for her behaviour. Instead I gazed at her with a mostly blank expression before she sheepishly returned to her salad bowl.
With the drama over, I returned to my meal, scarfing it down with speedy efficiency. While I’d been enjoying its flavour, the fight, and all the talking that had come with it, had drained my desire to savour it. The quick influx of flavours was good, but I washed it down with a glass of water.
Quite surprisingly, Udey, who openly disliked me, sat down at our table, taking a seat by Helaven.
“Do humans really do that kind of thing often?” he asked. I noticed despite being in such close proximity to me, he remained relatively relaxed.
It was a truly strange thing when I thought about it. So many leaf-lickers, who only mere [months] ago would've cowered at the sight of me, now tolerate, or possibly even enjoy, my presence. The change felt almost unnatural to me.
And yet… I didn't dislike it. It was like I was experiencing how the galaxy was meant to be. Of course, that was impossible, as predators were superior to other life, with Arxur on top. It was probably just that these prey were particularly tolerable for their kind. Yes, that was what it was. And the Harchen were former omnivores, which meant their natural state made them closer to us than they would've wanted to admit. They, and all other ‘cured’ species, were our mutilated kin. It was their right to be restored to the status of true sapients.
If possible, I wanted to convince our leaders to take up that goal. We would no longer be anomalies, or a coincidence. We would have dozens of our sort. We were at the top, of course, but they would be tolerated by the rest of the Dominion. A brotherhood of hunters. Quite an appealing concept, in my opinion.
Leaving the maze of thoughts in my mind, I noticed the two medics and the minister were having a blast of a conversation, with humans as their topic of discussion.
“No, you're messing with me,” chuckled the Harchen. “There is no way that they're the weakest of their family.”
“It's true!” Barisis exclaimed. “Out of all the apes, the animal family humans belong to, they have the least muscle mass. A wild ape is stronger than even a highly trained human.”
Udey guffawed in amusement. “That is unreasonably funny. To think we were afraid of them!”
Really? If what the Kolshian says is true, that's very interesting. No wonder humans prefer ranged weapons. I knew they were physically weaker than us, but I didn't realise they were also weaker than the beasts of their own planet.
“They still have binocular vision like my kind. And as arboreal descendants, I’d wager their eyesight is even better than ours. That means they can see you from very far away, Minister,” I added to the conversation, watching the colouration thin in Udey’s scales.
“I see…” he murmured, sounding put off. “How… comforting…”
“Quite,” I mock-agreed. “They’re always watching, those humans. Ever vigilant. Ever-seeing.”“Thass, you arse, stop it,” Barisis commanded. My snout shifted as the front of my lips curled, an equivalent gesture to when Hans would raise an eyebrow at his underlings’ actions. “He’s uncomfortable, so you’re doing to stop it.”“Are you ordering me, prey?” I asked, adding a twinge of hostility that normally wouldn’t be there.
The aqua Kolshian was unfazed, a massive change from a month ago. “Maybe it was. What are you going to do about it?”
Such a brave, foolhardy thing, she is.
I snapped my jaws at her, making her flinch ever so slightly, but otherwise she didn’t move. Her unwavering made me let out an impressed chuckle. “Very well then, doctor. I’ll listen, for now…”
“And the next time too,” she responded confidently. “You like to bluff, but I know you’re full of it.”
“Want to stake your tentacle on that claim?” I asked with a cold but tone. Though I was amused, I didn’t let much of it show externally.
Wordlessly she stuck out her limb. A month ago, she had been afraid that I would eat her. And yet now she was goading me into taking a bite out of her. She wasn’t just foolhardy, she was downright overconfident.
Moving my head toward the outstretched manipulator, my powerful jaws opened as I got closer. Udey and even Helaven looked worried, but the Aafa native did not. Even as her tentacle was in my mouth, she didn’t pull away.
Saliva dripped onto her, making her shudder. And yet she still refused to back down.
She’s not just toying with death, she was outright tempting it, goading me into trying. I don’t know if I should be impressed, bewildered or both.
Unwilling to back down, I took it a step further and ran my tongue across her limb. The taste of her skin was pleasant to the palate, much better than the steak I just had. As I had to have won with that step-up, I waited for her to register what I did.
Out of all the responses I expected, amusement wasn’t one. “You’re gross,” the medic snickered.
I started to laugh, stunned and awed by her lack of fear. She was a mere meek prey, yet was entirely unafraid of my powerful jaws ensnaring her precious body parts. It was so ridiculous it became funny!
My laughter soon became full on cackling as I relented, letting Barisis win. “You are really one brave Kolshian!” I chortled. “An exemplary specimen of your kind!”
“Wuss,” she chuckled jokingly, far more amused than the Harchen or her colleague sitting across from her.
“Don’t count on me backing down again, Barisis,” I jested. “You taste far better than anything I’ve eaten in the past [weeks].”
Unexpectedly, Helaven snorted.
“Something funny, Hel?” asked the Kolshian quizzically.
She snickered, having to take a moment to speak. “Spicy~”
“How DARE you!?” I roared in genuine offence. “To accuse me of… feeling for prey! Urgh, no!”
I stormed off, absolutely fuming. The Zurulian had the nerve to accuse me of such defectiveness to think I could develop weak feelings for a weak creature. The very thought made me sick to my stomach. Quite clearly she was too used to Risha’s less-than-standard tastes to assume that I would share her tastes. Herbivores were unworthy of my mere gaze! She should be honoured that I speak to her at all! The fucking gall to call me defective in the vilest way…
If it weren’t for our truce with humanity, I would rip her worthless spine out here and now.
My legs had carried me by themselves as I brooded in rage and had taken me far in a short time, having walked out of the building entirely without realising. I was furious with that fucking Zurulian, and wasn’t planning to speak with h- it, nor the Kolshian, anytime soon. Fucking bitch…
2024.05.18 00:19 Intelligent_Bee0117 Can someone please help explain.
Hello,
My 35 female, just received 15yr old female daughters, MRI results.
Just asking if someone wouldn't mind explaining this to me, as I am waiting for the doctor to call about this but would like be somewhat informed when he calls and be prepared if I have questions.
Background my daughter has had wrist pain, we dont know exactly what hurts, joints, blood vessels, ligaments, etc,(don't know what else we could be looking for) for over 8 years and multiple doctor visits and exams but nothing.
Is there anything in this that would attribute to daily constant pain for her? Or anything I am missing or the doctors are missing that I can ask?
HISTORY: Bilateral wrist pain, chronic. The patient also has ankle pain. As discussed with Dr. Berger and with the mother, it was decided to proceed first with the MRI arthrogram of the most symptomatic wrist which happens to be the dominant side (right side). The patient has the MRI arthrogram of the contralateral side is scheduled in 2 weeks.
TECHNIQUE: A multisequence, multiplanar MRI of the right wrist was obtained. CONTRAST: 3 mL of a mixture of 15 cc of NS, 5 cc of Optiray 320 and 0.1 ml of Gadavist. SEDATION: Versed was administered orally for anxiolysis. COMPARISON: radiographs of the wrist from September 29, 2023 and prior
FINDINGS: Skeletal maturity: Skeletally mature Marrow pattern: Normal physiologic distribution
Bones and bone marrow: There is a branching, T2 hyperintense area in the body of the capitate that may represent intraosseous vasculature. There is mild surrounding bone marrow edema. Otherwise, the bones are intact without evidence of erosions.
Joints: Mild dorsal decentering of the distal ulna at the radioulnar joint is identified of approximately 3 mm. There is preservation of the joint space. Articular cartilage: Preserved.
Effusion: There is adequate distention of the distal radio- and ulnocarpal joints by the injected fluid.
Ganglion/synovial cysts: There is a small synovial cyst arising from the volar aspect of the distal radioulnar joint extending proximally. The cyst measures approximately 1.1 cm in caudocranial dimension x1 cm in transverse diameter x0.3 cm in AP dimension Intrinsic ligaments. Scapholunate ligament: Intact. Lunotriquetral ligament: Intact. Triangular fibrocartilage complex: Intact. Extrinsic ligaments: Not defined but there is no edema in or under the volapalmar or dorsal capsular region. Extensor tendons: EXT carpi radialis longus and brevis. Lister tubercle: There is mild fluid in the tendon sheath of the extensor carpi radialis longus in keeping with tenosynovitis. EXT pollicis longus: Intact. EXT pollicis brevis and abductor pollicis longus: intact EXT digitorum, EXT indicis: Intact. EXT digiti minimi: Intact. EXT carpi ulnaris: There is subluxation of the extensor carpi ulnaris with a heterogeneous, intermediate increased signal of the tendon distal to the joint line. No definite fiber interruption is identified. In addition, there is mild thickening and edema of the tendon sheath at that level in keeping with mild tenosynovitis. Flexor retinaculum: Defined. Flexor tendons and median nerve: Defined, no abnormal signal. Carpal tunnel at level of hamate hook: No abnormal signal. Pisiform level Guyon canal, ulnar artery and nerve: Defined without abnormal signal. Muscles: Pronator quadratus, intrinsic muscles: Intact. Subcutaneous soft tissues: Infiltration site is identified at the dorsum of the wrist
CONCLUSION: Slightly heterogeneous intermediate increased intrasubstance signal of the distal aspect of the extensor carpi ulnaris distal to the joint line in keeping with tendinosis. In addition, there is subluxation of the tendon and mild tenosynovitis. These findings suggest chronic repetitive stress. Mild incongruency of the distal radioulnar joint. Mild tenosynovitis of the extensor carpi radialis longus. Small ganglion cyst arising from the volar aspect of the distal radio-carpal joint.
submitted by Intelligent_Bee0117 to AskDocs [link] [comments]
My 35 female, just received 15yr old female daughters, MRI results.
Just asking if someone wouldn't mind explaining this to me, as I am waiting for the doctor to call about this but would like be somewhat informed when he calls and be prepared if I have questions.
Background my daughter has had wrist pain, we dont know exactly what hurts, joints, blood vessels, ligaments, etc,(don't know what else we could be looking for) for over 8 years and multiple doctor visits and exams but nothing.
Is there anything in this that would attribute to daily constant pain for her? Or anything I am missing or the doctors are missing that I can ask?
HISTORY: Bilateral wrist pain, chronic. The patient also has ankle pain. As discussed with Dr. Berger and with the mother, it was decided to proceed first with the MRI arthrogram of the most symptomatic wrist which happens to be the dominant side (right side). The patient has the MRI arthrogram of the contralateral side is scheduled in 2 weeks.
TECHNIQUE: A multisequence, multiplanar MRI of the right wrist was obtained. CONTRAST: 3 mL of a mixture of 15 cc of NS, 5 cc of Optiray 320 and 0.1 ml of Gadavist. SEDATION: Versed was administered orally for anxiolysis. COMPARISON: radiographs of the wrist from September 29, 2023 and prior
FINDINGS: Skeletal maturity: Skeletally mature Marrow pattern: Normal physiologic distribution
Bones and bone marrow: There is a branching, T2 hyperintense area in the body of the capitate that may represent intraosseous vasculature. There is mild surrounding bone marrow edema. Otherwise, the bones are intact without evidence of erosions.
Joints: Mild dorsal decentering of the distal ulna at the radioulnar joint is identified of approximately 3 mm. There is preservation of the joint space. Articular cartilage: Preserved.
Effusion: There is adequate distention of the distal radio- and ulnocarpal joints by the injected fluid.
Ganglion/synovial cysts: There is a small synovial cyst arising from the volar aspect of the distal radioulnar joint extending proximally. The cyst measures approximately 1.1 cm in caudocranial dimension x1 cm in transverse diameter x0.3 cm in AP dimension Intrinsic ligaments. Scapholunate ligament: Intact. Lunotriquetral ligament: Intact. Triangular fibrocartilage complex: Intact. Extrinsic ligaments: Not defined but there is no edema in or under the volapalmar or dorsal capsular region. Extensor tendons: EXT carpi radialis longus and brevis. Lister tubercle: There is mild fluid in the tendon sheath of the extensor carpi radialis longus in keeping with tenosynovitis. EXT pollicis longus: Intact. EXT pollicis brevis and abductor pollicis longus: intact EXT digitorum, EXT indicis: Intact. EXT digiti minimi: Intact. EXT carpi ulnaris: There is subluxation of the extensor carpi ulnaris with a heterogeneous, intermediate increased signal of the tendon distal to the joint line. No definite fiber interruption is identified. In addition, there is mild thickening and edema of the tendon sheath at that level in keeping with mild tenosynovitis. Flexor retinaculum: Defined. Flexor tendons and median nerve: Defined, no abnormal signal. Carpal tunnel at level of hamate hook: No abnormal signal. Pisiform level Guyon canal, ulnar artery and nerve: Defined without abnormal signal. Muscles: Pronator quadratus, intrinsic muscles: Intact. Subcutaneous soft tissues: Infiltration site is identified at the dorsum of the wrist
CONCLUSION: Slightly heterogeneous intermediate increased intrasubstance signal of the distal aspect of the extensor carpi ulnaris distal to the joint line in keeping with tendinosis. In addition, there is subluxation of the tendon and mild tenosynovitis. These findings suggest chronic repetitive stress. Mild incongruency of the distal radioulnar joint. Mild tenosynovitis of the extensor carpi radialis longus. Small ganglion cyst arising from the volar aspect of the distal radio-carpal joint.