Made a reddit acc just to share my story lol
Basically, last year, in maths paper 1 (non-calc), my mind immediately went completely blank. I knew this was a panic/anxiety attack developing, so I tried to drink some water and do some deep breaths, and then get on with my paper. This did not help however, and I started getting really distressed. Tears started rolling down my face and I was trying not to make a noise. By this point, an invigilator came over to me and asked if I'm ok. When I replied no, she let me sit outside for about 10 minutes and try to calm down. She also gave me some water whilst saying nice things to me. I ended up passing Maths yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
Anyway that's my story what's yours?

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

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

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

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

This is kinda long so
TL;DR: I developed derealization in November, and since it has made me hallucinate, delusional at times, disassociate from reality, paranoid, made me sometimes forget how to do simple tasks, draw blanks when having a conversation, and overall making me feel like there’s something not right neurologically. Last night I did not feel tired, even thought it was late at night, and a thought came to mind that I was developing fatal insomnia. Fatal insomnia doesn’t start with sleeplessness, it starts with symptoms like the ones I had prior. I’m terrified, and I can’t get medical attention rn. Help.
Alright, here we go. (Keep in mind that I have posted here before, just on another account)
Last night I was not tired at all. I already have the conventional insomnia, but most of the time I still felt tired, with an unquenchable desire to sleep, just not being able to. However, last night, I was completely tireless, but I still wanted to sleep, no longer because I was tired, but because I should have been asleep at the time. Eventually I just closed my eyes for a few minutes and I was asleep. Months before that, on the night of November 18, 2023, I closed my eyes to sleep, when I saw a green orb on the side of my vision. It moved almost like it was alive, and then left my field of view. I opened my eyes to a world that felt a lot more fabricated than before, physically. I felt realization before in those small doses that everyone has once in a while. But this time, it was here to stay. The next day, everything felt unreal, and the it was terrifying. Thankfully, if I stopped thinking about it and distracted myself, I would feel better. Two months later, it got worse. Things started feeling really blurry, and any artificial light (especially at night) looked saturated and was almost painful to look at. I began to not recognize everyday things, like my own face, and it would almost scare me. I would be in a constant state of paranoia. My (regular) insomnia, that I had prior, got to me, and I would wake up in the middle of the night, completely delusional, believing I’m a different person. I thought I was a soldier in war, and a character in an FPS game, and some more that I forgot. After a few minutes though at most, I would slap some sense into myself. I started hallucinating too, seeing dark figures, glowing dots, and faces. It only got worse, so awful that the only place I felt I were in, were my thoughts, which were often negative at this point. I don’t know what would warrant such a state of mind; My life has been going relatively well, so there would be no reason for me to go into derealization. I started feeling dizzy often, My head sometimes hurt, and starting last month, I noticed what I can only assume to be a cognitive decline. I’ve always been a little half witted, Having a bad memory and learning things very slowly, but my communication skills were getting worse as I was struggling to find words in conversations. I also started messing up on routine things, often because I was overthinking them. My delusions were slipping into daytime too, where my derealization would disassociate me from the world so much that I would believe I was somewhere else doing something else, but the duration of this would be a fraction of a second. Oddly enough, I don’t seem to develop ataxia. This ties into fatal insomnia considering that the condition often doesn’t start with the lack of sleep, but a mental decline, not necessarily a severe one (I’m not an expert obviously) And up until last night, I may have been in that stage. This is the start of the insomnia, I’m scared. The youngest person to die from sporadic fatal insomnia was the same age I am (16) I would drive to a doctor, but my parents aren’t allowing me to get a drivers license until i’m 18. I also cannot convince my parents to take me to the doctors because it’s a “waste of their time.” At this point the only thing I can do is exaggerate the symptoms now. As of typing this I don’t even feel like I truly am. I just feel like a jumble of thoughts watching something moving.

This is kinda long so
TL;DR: I developed derealization in November, and since it has made me hallucinate, delusional at times, disassociate from reality, paranoid, made me sometimes forget how to do simple tasks, draw blanks when having a conversation, and overall making me feel like there’s something not right neurologically. Last night I did not feel tired, even thought it was late at night, and a thought came to mind that I was developing fatal insomnia. Fatal insomnia doesn’t start with sleeplessness, it starts with symptoms like the ones I had prior. I’m terrified, and I can’t get medical attention rn. Help.
Alright, here we go. (Keep in mind that I have posted here before, just on another account)
Last night I was not tired at all. I already have the conventional insomnia, but most of the time I still felt tired, with an unquenchable desire to sleep, just not being able to. However, last night, I was completely tireless, but I still wanted to sleep, no longer because I was tired, but because I should have been asleep at the time. Eventually I just closed my eyes for a few minutes and I was asleep. Months before that, on the night of November 18, 2023, I closed my eyes to sleep, when I saw a green orb on the side of my vision. It moved almost like it was alive, and then left my field of view. I opened my eyes to a world that felt a lot more fabricated than before, physically. I felt realization before in those small doses that everyone has once in a while. But this time, it was here to stay. The next day, everything felt unreal, and the it was terrifying. Thankfully, if I stopped thinking about it and distracted myself, I would feel better. Two months later, it got worse. Things started feeling really blurry, and any artificial light (especially at night) looked saturated and was almost painful to look at. I began to not recognize everyday things, like my own face, and it would almost scare me. I would be in a constant state of paranoia. My (regular) insomnia, that I had prior, got to me, and I would wake up in the middle of the night, completely delusional, believing I’m a different person. I thought I was a soldier in war, and a character in an FPS game, and some more that I forgot. After a few minutes though at most, I would slap some sense into myself. I started hallucinating too, seeing dark figures, glowing dots, and faces. It only got worse, so awful that the only place I felt I were in, were my thoughts, which were often negative at this point. I don’t know what would warrant such a state of mind; My life has been going relatively well, so there would be no reason for me to go into derealization. I started feeling dizzy often, My head sometimes hurt, and starting last month, I noticed what I can only assume to be a cognitive decline. I’ve always been a little half witted, Having a bad memory and learning things very slowly, but my communication skills were getting worse as I was struggling to find words in conversations. I also started messing up on routine things, often because I was overthinking them. My delusions were slipping into daytime too, where my derealization would disassociate me from the world so much that I would believe I was somewhere else doing something else, but the duration of this would be a fraction of a second. Oddly enough, I don’t seem to develop ataxia. This ties into fatal insomnia considering that the condition often doesn’t start with the lack of sleep, but a mental decline, not necessarily a severe one (I’m not an expert obviously) And up until last night, I may have been in that stage. This is the start of the insomnia, I’m scared. The youngest person to die from sporadic fatal insomnia was the same age I am (16) I would drive to a doctor, but my parents aren’t allowing me to get a drivers license until i’m 18. I also cannot convince my parents to take me to the doctors because it’s a “waste of their time.” At this point the only thing I can do is exaggerate the symptoms now. As of typing this I don’t even feel like I truly am. I just feel like a jumble of thoughts watching something moving.

Reposting!
So it's been more than 1.5 years Last we talked was 16 November 22 after that she ghosted me I tried reaching out but I was blocked from everywhere TBH I sometimes regret I didn't try much I only called her twice then boom! It's all over. Never moved on from her cut off all contacts to every female friend (except 1). I still love her and she will always have a place in my heart no matter who comes (I hope so) I am not angry or have any complaints I have always respected her. Still now I can't talk to women in a flirty manner I feel a sense of guilt like what am I doing (I tried making new friends) as a friend they are okay (sometimes even that makes me feel like I am cheating on someone) but when somebody goes beyond that my mind goes blank. Now here comes the twist: There is this girl who passes by my shop (I think she is junior maybe and she has a boyfriend) she just resembles her way too much (short hair, big beautiful eyes, Oval face, slim body everything) Tbh I find her beautiful I sometimes think of talking to her then again I feel like this is not me I can't do this shit. I was telling one of my friends that if this girl talks to me I might want to consider relationship again but the thing is after being this much cut off from everyone I don't know if I can love someone I just don't get the feeling of love anymore towards anyone be it a friend or this girl I am talking about I feel I am just attracted. I have become emotionally unavailable (I am saying this because So many people have told me people who knew me before said 'Tum bohot badal gye ho' and again there was this friend I was talking to she said 'tum emotionally unavailable ho teko care show krna nahi aata and rude ho and all' (she was a good friend). I don't know if even I should try talking to new people I just feel guilty after talking to them.
This was a rant and also some advice and suggestions are welcome. If anyone feels I am wrong here don't sugar coat your words.

Top 10 LGBT-Free OS Alternatives - Article By Zenith

As we know, popular operating systems such as iOS, Android, and Windows include various LGBT content, such as pride wallpapers, same-sex, and non-binary emojis. Operating systems should aim to be neutral. Therefore, I have compiled a list of the top ten operating systems that do not include LGBT content.
1. Deepin DDE
Deepin DDE (Deepin Desktop Environment) is a user-friendly and visually appealing interface for computers. It is designed to be simple and easy to use, even for people who are not very familiar with technology. Here are some key features. Deepin DDE looks modern and stylish, with smooth animations and a clean layout. It has a dock at the bottom of the screen, similar to what you might see on a Mac, which makes it easy to access your favorite apps. The interface is straightforward and intuitive, so you can find what you need without getting confused. The start menu is well-organized, and common settings are easy to access. It comes with a set of pre-installed applications that cover basic needs like web browsing, music playing, and document editing. These apps are designed to work well together and match the overall look of the desktop. You can personalize the appearance of Deepin DDE by changing themes, wallpapers, and icon styles to suit your taste.
2. Arch Linux
Arch Linux is like a blank canvas for your computer. It's an operating system that gives you the freedom to build your digital world just the way you want it. Imagine it as a DIY project where you get to choose every little detail, from the color of the walls to the type of furniture you want. With Arch Linux, you're in control. You get to handpick every app, tool, and feature that goes into your system. Want a sleek and minimalist setup? You got it. Prefer a decked-out powerhouse with all the latest software? No problem. Whatever your style, Arch Linux lets you express yourself and tailor your computer to fit your unique needs. But here's the catch: because Arch Linux is so customizable, it's best suited for folks who don't mind getting their hands a little dirty. If you're up for a bit of tinkering and learning along the way, Arch Linux can be an incredibly rewarding experience. Plus, there's a vibrant community of fellow Archers ready to lend a hand if you ever get stuck. So if you're someone who loves to customize and personalize everything to perfection, give Arch Linux a try. It's like having your own digital playground where the possibilities are endless!
3. Ubuntu
Ubuntu is a user-friendly and free operating system that you can use on your computer or tablet. It's designed to be easy to use, similar to how smartphones work, with a simple interface that includes a dock (a bar with your favorite apps) and a status bar (which shows important information like battery life and Wi-Fi connection). Ubuntu is a great choice if you want a reliable, secure, and straightforward alternative to more familiar operating systems like Windows or macOS. Ubuntu comes with many useful apps already installed, such as a web browser, an email client, office programs (like Word and Excel), and media players for music and videos. This means you can start using it right away without needing to download a lot of extra software. Ubuntu is known for being very secure. It can breathe new life into older machines that might be too slow to run the latest versions of Windows or macOS.
4. AvdanOS
AvdanOS isn't your everyday operating system. It's a visionary concept created by YouTuber and motion designer Avdan, aiming to redefine the way we interact with our computers. It prioritizes a seamless interface that streamlines actions, making daily tasks on your computer significantly faster and more efficient. AvdanOS aspires to be more than just a pretty face. It positions itself as a complete workflow overhaul, not just a desktop environment. This means it envisions a cohesive system that integrates seamlessly with your work style, anticipating your needs and streamlining your processes. Drawing inspiration from the industry leaders, AvdanOS incorporates elements from popular operating systems like Windows, macOS, iOS, and Android. This creates a familiar yet innovative experience, leveraging the strengths of existing systems while introducing a fresh perspective. AvdanOS is built with the power of open-source collaboration in mind. Its development is happening on GitHub, allowing programmers and enthusiasts to contribute to the project's evolution. This open approach fosters a community around the concept and fuels its potential growth.

Chapter 3
Hurricane Georg.
Our first contact with the new world was a colossal hurricane. Veins of lightning shattered through the black, swirling clouds. I had just tried to calm the nerves of the ship when I saw Suri sitting in the hall beneath the control room.
She was in a lounge corner with her suitcase opened and her supplies scattered across the small table. The little light from the window illuminated her drawing for me to see over her shoulder.
The black and white sketch began at the bow of the ship. The figure of a man in facing the open ocean. Ahead of him, the familiar despair of Hurricane Georg. The man had his back towards the artist, but his stature sailed through the fierce storm without worry. His gaze only in the beautiful sight of home on the other side.
Her pencil began to etch the details of his crewmans jacket, "You have a gift, Suri. Truly, you do."
She was ahead of me, she did not jump or gasp as I had expected, "Thank you, Capi. I saw you in the reflection. Im hard to get the jump on."
"Then this shouldnt surprise you," I smiled and approached her table. "My capi stars are on the right side, "I stepped back and tapped my shoulder."
Disappointment inked her face, darkening her mood, "Dam."
I laughed and pulled up a chair. She had captured the view from the window perfectly and I made a point to tell her. As we talked the storm outside began to fade. The world around us was healed and the worries of yesterday had never existed.
Her eyes were near black, in color, and her skin was incredibly warm. Physical characteristic were useless to determine where a person was from, but 500 years ago, she would have fit at home with the people of the Middle East. Had I been a different man, her beauty and brain would make a perfect partner.
The longer I stared, the darker the world around us became. Until she broke my gaze and looked shocked at something through the window.
"Did you see that?"
"No, what was it?"
"I-Im not sure..." her face drained of color as the harsh rocking of the storm was interrupted by something else. Suri and I were flung off our chairs onto the floor, her supplies pelting us as they flew through the air. I tried to stand, but my legs were too soft to make it easy.
I struggled to a kneel using the bolted-down desk. Suri gasped and I looked down. The longer I looked, the itchier it became. Once more the world grew darker and I only had enough energy for a simple joke.
"Mr. Morgs was right about those things."
"Gud morning, Capi!" Ennay cheered from the wall-mounted screen.
I struggled to sit myself up. I was in the infirmary, only Ennay was there to greet me. My jacket was gone. All I had on was a white t-shirt and grey shorts.
"Officer Angelhart had your attire taken to be cleaned," Ennay chimed in, "Today is Wednesday, sir, 4:13am. Its the morning after you lost consciousness."
I thanked him and asked him to catch me up on the happenings in the passed half day.
"The reality is unclear, Capi, but Helmsman Archer believes we were attacked by a... a sea monster, sir."
"Archer? Hes no storyteller. Why?" I swung my legs over the bed, "get him down here or tell him im on my way."
Ennay surprised me with his fast response, "No. Sir, We had a breach. Ms. Aziz told the Doctor you had severed and artery during a spell of turbulence. The New Horizon had actually made contact with something what breached the hull. Damage Control responded in 4 minutes and were quick to contain flooding. However, we sustained a second breach."
Before he could continue, I dropped back onto the bed, "Whats the status?"
"On the New Horizon? Operational. A few sections had to be permanently sealed until we are out of this storm."
"And Damage Control?"
Ennay did not respond as quickly as he had been. It felt like an eternity before he told me, "6 casualties," the room fell completely silent. I couldnt even hear my heart beating, "5 fatalities. Sergant Franccigo Blanco is recovering in Infirmary 4C. He is unconscious, but has sustained gruesome wounds. Officer Angelhart declared a S.O.E. to assume your position. Otherwise,..."
"Yes, yes, the prosthetics. I hate that system."
"Well, sir, you are able to disable it."
"What?"
"Its not a very common scenario, but since we are not in International Sea, the law requiring your presence does not necessarily need to be enforced."
I sat back and thought for a second, "Ill discuss it with Dr. Mally. Where are they all?"
"Dr. Mally is in Infirmary 4C with Sergant Blanco. Officer Angelhart is your office filling out an incident report for both your accident and the breaches."
"Thank you, Ennay. Tell Max I am on my way and then let Dr. Mally know I will meet her shortly."
"Of course, sir."
My office was silent except for the fan gently spinning from the ceiling. Across from me was a young man, mid-twenties, with dusty blond hair. His uniform was perfect, he has even removed his hat on the perfect beat upon entering the room.
The appearance and demeanor any ship captain would be beyond proud to accept on his ship. It had just been dumb luck that he had lost both of his eyes to shrapnel sealing off the lower corridors during the state of emergency yesterday.
I poured Mr. Blanco a drink, 2444 Geoff Russel - The Hearty Mans Drink. I needed to finish the incident report, but Id never ask a man to relive what he had without a bit of buzz to his bite.
"So, Sargent Blanco, I-"
"You can call me, Fran, Capi."
"And you can call me Santago, for tonight anyway," I continued my questions. I tried my best to stay shallow and not dive deep into the pain Fran had endures just hours ago.
We talked about the 5 fatalities.
"Did you... see... them die?"
The gauze replacing his eyes stared at me, blankly. His face was uncanny, unhuman. Like the man inside may actually have been a 6th dead body.
"No," he quickly took a drink, "I did hear them, though. They yelled and screamed for me to open the door. I- I couldnt see. I thought the sea water had poisoned me somehow. I kept rubbing and rubbing my eyes hoping to get whatever radioactive stuff out of my head..." He took a breath. He was remarkably calm. Agitated, of course. But calm.
He continued, "I looked through the window on the bulkhead and the last thing I saw was Aleks staring back at me. His eyes were... he was calling out for me, I am sure of it. But something got him and he was sucked out."
"I am so sorry, Fran," I tried to write as quietly as possible to not remind him of the formality, "Do you know what got him?"
He finished his glass. As he set it down, he missed the table. The cup did not shatter, but it had jolted Fran from his memory. He lost his composure.
He started yelling at me about a horrific beast he had seen. How Aleks, Private Aleksander Igorsen, had been encased in blood and black sludge. He swung his hands wildly at the table in a rage, but had only managed to knock over a lamp.
Pity does not begin to describe what I felt watching him. Like a bleeding animal continuing to run from the wolves despite not knowing he was already surrounded. In him, I saw death. I saw anger. I saw fear. I saw what he was feeling imaging the creature that killed his men.
I grappled with him, trying to make my location known and always talking to him. I was not some monster from the unknown blackness set on hunting him and he needed to know that. He continued to struggle until I had completely engulfed his whirlwind into a hug. The screams turned to cries and then to whimpers.
After some time, I dismissed him back to his room and instructed Ennay that he was on suicide watch. Sergant Franccigo Blanco had earned a promotion or a permanent dismissal, whichever he wanted, but I needed him to take time to himself before I reminded him where we are.
The storm was intense, but at least it was consistent. By Katzs reckoning, we are approaching the halfway point of this hurricane. We had entered it 51 hours ago and Katz had said we are another 50 away from clear skies.
Unfortunately for all of us, Katzs theory was not seen through.
It began with our solar panelling being severed from their operating power banks. That was not a major issue, hydropower was our primary source. The issue arose when the New Horizon began to spin.
I had radioed the Helmsman demanding why we are weighing anchor, but the anchor was still resting above water. He said no one dropped the anchor. Something else entirely had us. We rushed to every window, every pane of glass to search for whatever it was that was stopping us.
Ennay spoke out, "Capi, Major Gorlammi has spotted our snag at 129 degrees. Nearest viewpoint is Residential Room L3D, assigned to L-"
I ignored the rest, I needed to see what was in that window. Luckily for me, Lucy Partridge was not home. I burst through the door and, for the first time, I saw a behemoth of a serpent-like creature sticking out of the water. I could not see a head, nor tail. I also had no idea if what I saw was the body or an appendage connected to some inconceivably large beast.
After enough time, I manage to figure out one of the ships heavy guns had pierced the creature and was holding us together. Our best bet was to either rotate the gun and hope its dislodged or to remove the gun entirely.
I relayed this information to Ennay to alerted the Gunner Teams and Damage Control. Yet, none of them would be given the chance. In the distance, silhouetted by sparks of lightning the size of the ship, I saw the head of the creature. It must have been miles away, but the size was unparalleled. Its head leaped from the water and swiveled back towards us. It was like a colossal eel. Flashes of light showed through its skin like veins until it sent a surge into the gun and into the ship.
The lights went out across the boat. The only light was the occasional flash from outside. It was completely dark, but I knew it was still coming for us.
I ran out of the quarters as emergency lights slowly burned. The hallway must have been 100 feet long before Id reach the staircase, but when I was halfway through, my feet left the ground.
I felt weightless for a moment. The lights burned out and all around me was darkness. My heart was incredibly slow or maybe time had slowed. I felt the doorframe to Mrs. Partridges room snap against my elbow. There was no pain. I didnt even feel pain when glass cut across my back as I was hurled through the shattered window.
I crashed into the water, it must have been hundreds of feet below me. I was in shock. I looked around and all I saw was darkness. Then, suddenly, all I saw was light. The eel sent a pulse through its body and for the first time I saw the monster entirely. It surrounded the ship above water, coiled all about the waves, and entangled the entire ocean as deep as I could see.
This is not a colossal eel surviving a hurricane.
This colossal eel is the very being causing the hurricane.
A cosmic terror named Hurricane Georg.

Sorry I’m new to Reddit and I don’t know if I’m posting correctly. Trigger warning: just disgusting stuff going on in that house. Bodily fluids and such.
I would like to start off, none of this is the kids fault. Absolutely none of it is. They’re children and this all lays in the hands of the adults in that house as they’re currently failing them.
The way she keeps her home; the way she “cleans”, makes my skin itch and sends me into a cleaning spiral in my own home. My house is by no means spotless all the time, nor am I a cleaning expert. I do work 45 hours or so a week and have a dog with long hair that is currently shedding a lot bc of spring. I’m no means a super bleach clean person, but gosh, I whip out the bleach every time I learn about something that goes on in her household. The way I wanna reach in and just clean that place myself
The walking around sweaty like that, her kids are sweaty, she’s sweaty, touching public items and probably bumping into people in the stores because she nor cash have a sense or personally boundaries. Imagining getting bumped by someone that sweaty when I’m trying to grocery shop, would make me want to put everything down and go home or go to a different store.
The pooping in the pool. I would have banned her immediately. Do you know how much business they would lose? Her couple of memberships isn’t worth enough to cover a full day of pool shutdown or the people that would no longer attend the pool because people are routinely pooping in there whenever they attend.
The chicken coop, that speaks for itself. The amount of germs in that is insane. I’m not too sure about it, but my mom always stressed how much germs birds can carry, and to never touch feathers fallen from them. And here she is, sitting her kid in a bird poop nest. The kid that puts his hands in his mouth, touches everything, that probably doesn’t know how to properly wash their hands because I doubt their mother knows either. He’d touch it and it’d go to her other poor kids that would probably end up touching it and then their own mouths, she even has a baby and we all know how babies put everything in their mouth.
The state of her home just speaks that she doesn’t clean enough. I know it’s rough for parents to clean and keep clean, but she takes it to a level I’ve never witnessed. Every child can do small tasks to help keep the house clean. Even 4 year olds can, just a small task like matching socks or something. Clean up their toys, something that doesn’t take too long. But I highly doubt she’s teaching them anything in regards to being clean. I don’t know if she knows how to clean.
Her house is a mess but it’s more of a disaster. Im surprised no one from any government agency or services has told her to clean it up or risk losing her kids and that she’s putting her kids health at risk. Her kids literal health is at risk at the way she’s “maintaining” this homes
Even when she’s on live doing laundry I’m cringing. Is the washer even clean? How many bodily accidents happened in those clothes? Pets or children or even adults. Is she just washing the clothes in poopy/sweaty/pee/anything filled water?
It makes me wonder if that cyst that was on a child’s nose was possibly made worse or got infected in the first place because of the condition she keeps her house. Even if the cyst was going to form, having a clean bed, face towel, even cleaning their face itself, couldn’t have hurt and maybe lessen any infections they could have gotten.
I think her house is a downright fire hazard. Too much stuff, too much unkept stuff, too much of everything everywhere. It’s go up like a match box if one of those chords caused an electrical fire. Either from an animal chewing on it, someone got their hands where they couldn’t, someone put metal where they shouldn’t, the list goes on. And I’m terrified that no one would know what to do in an event that it happens.
Her house isn’t just mess but it’s more of a disaster and I dare say biohazard after learning about the bathtub situation. Where else is she allowing to happen and just not mentioning? Glad that the kids are peeing/pooping even if it’s -blank-? Surely it’s not just when submerged in water. Which makes me now concerned about that lake/pond they are near by.
Im surprised no one from any government agency or services has told her to clean it up or risk losing her kids and that she’s putting her kids health at risk. Her kids literal health is at risk at the way she’s “maintaining” this home.
Dear god, this is just what I beg (in this regard). Get off live and clean.. if you have to be on live. Go live and clean. Just deep clean everything. Tidy up, bleach the floors, carpet clean, vacuum couches, clean the walls, baseboards, the ceiling, the bathrooms, the washer machine and drier, even the fridge and pantry at this point. The kids deserve to be able to have at least one day where their house doesn’t smell like a barnyard. And don’t start that it’s a country thing. I’m in the country. And I would get hives thinkin about spending any time there.

ೃ༄🐛ೃ༄ introduction ೃ༄🐛ೃ༄

if you are involved in the shifting community, you may have seen the mention of some sort of 'lifa app' with no explanation as to what it is. sometimes, in scripts, it will say stuff such as...
'when i shift to this reality, i will have a lifa app to check in on my cr self and it cannot be deleted or destroyed.'
but what is the app that everyone is talking about? is it an actual app or sort of app in another reality that everyone just knows of?
in this post, i will be explaining the lifa app as a full guide of how to use it. its features, and what it is.

༊·˚🌿 what is the lifa app? ༊·˚🌿

the lifa app is a reality shifting based app that lets you keep track of your dr or multiple drs in literally every way imaginable. from the time it is to your memories. it even gives you diary entries for yourself. it is meant to be used as a tool to help shifters keep track of all of their information about them and their dr. it also allows a gateway to meet other shifters like yourself and shift with them to the same reality.

｡･ﾟﾟ･ 🥞 🥯 features 🥯 🥞 ･ﾟﾟ･｡

the lifa app has many features. the main ones you can see first are dr details, visualizations, group shifting, sharing.
let's go over each feature one by one.

: ̗̀➛ dr details

the first thing that you will get when you are greeted by this an i icon that says about this dr. when you click on it, you are able to type the location and a background story about your desired reality.
: ̗̀➛ time
this feature allows you to add a time and date to your dr. time will pass the same as it does here. for example in my dr, it is currently november 19, 2130 and is 1:47 pm. i chose to freeze time in this dr and submitted it.
: ̗̀➛ theme
this holds the name of what your dr is called, the icon it has, and the background of it when you click on the app. you can also choose the font color and a background tint as well. it also holds your name in your dr.
: ̗̀➛ timeline
you are able to establish a timeline of your desired reality before the point that you shift. i recommend keeping it brief to the important stuff. main instances of childhood and things that you remember with the same importance as you do now.
: ̗̀➛ notion script
this feature is if you have a script on the website notion script. it is a website in which you can gather and fill in shifting templates and is a great way to organize yourself. this is not necessary though. there are other features you can use for your script on here.
: ̗̀➛ about me
this is just a section where you write all about yourself. your name, your age, nicknames, safe word, height, hometown, ethnicity, race, nationality, sexuality, pronouns, gender, language(s), positive traits, negative traits, habit, likes, dislikes, hobbies, and skills.
: ̗̀➛ relationships
when you enter this tab, it will take you to a screen that has a place where you can add family members, friends, pets, significant other(s) or 'other'. the other tab has you in it.
when you decide to add let's say a friend, you start off by adding their name. then there age, closeness, and appearance. you can follow that up by adding a photo of said friend. you can type in relationship dynamic, how you met, and extra info. the format is the exact same no matter the type of relationship aside from pets.
the pet section is a little bit different. you add their name, age, species, pet bed, size, and about them.
there is also a recorder option where you can move around the placements of these characters.
: ̗̀➛ scenarios
this includes upcoming scenarios that you had planned, past scenarios that you did while in your reality, desired upcoming scenarios that include no date but you want to do or have plans to do. finally, you have memories which has no date. these are things that you will automatically remember when in your dr.
it's just a brief section where you can type in a title and add as much as you want of details of that memory. you can add a photo and select if it has a date or if it is a past memory or not.
: ̗̀➛ calendar
this just has the date of your dr. you can also create events on specific dates. that's pretty much it, this section is short.
: ̗̀➛ diary
you can write diary entires. talk about your day, memories, anything that may make you feel closer to your dr. this section is also short.
: ̗̀➛ playlist
so is this one. you make a playlist. and link the playlist, whenever you open the playlist, you get a new tab that takes you to that playlist to listen. i use it to keep my shifting subliminal playlist, but you don't have to.
: ̗̀➛ hero/villain
this is a tab within a tab so i'm bolding it. the first tab is customize, but that feature is locked behind a paywall with a monthly subscription of $3.99. i will talk about the subscription later.
then you have powers. you type the name of it and what your powers do. you have weapons which have the same explanation as powers. missions means you can make your own missions.
then there is combat skills. you list your strength, speed, agility, intelligence, compatibility, stamina, and flexibility out of five. then you can add your backstory. it's a blank sheet where you can type it out.
next is costumes where you describe what your costume looks like.
ally team includes your team name, how well you work together, specific events and upcoming battles, and other details. you can also add relationships from your relationship section and names of that.
enemy team is relatively the same. a team name, specific events or battles, other details, and can once again, select relationship with each member.
finally, there is timeline which has a title and description. you can also add scenarios if needed.
thankfully, that is thee last feature about dr details and we can now move on to visualizations.

: ̗̀➛ visualizations ‧₊˚🖇️✩

this tab focuses all on the visual aspects of your desired reality. even if you can't visualize, you can still use these to get a good idea on what things will look like.
: ̗̀➛ appearence
you can add a hair claim, face claim, body claim, hand claim, voice claim, and specific features claim. personally, i think that the last one could be explained easily in body or face claim.
either way, when you press one of these tabs, you can type in a detailed description on what you look like. now, i didn't notice at first but all the way at the bottom will be a small section that says add photo to which you can go into your gallery and choose a photo for yourself on that specific claim.
: ̗̀➛ wardrobe
this section will include an area that says wardrobe. you press the giant + sign on the top right hand corner and it takes you to a section that says create wardrobe. all you gotta do is add a title and a description. once you do that, you click on the tab again and then add a photo of a specific outfit of yours. you can add multiple photos, move them around using the recorder option right next to photos.
: ̗̀➛ photo gallery
you can make multiple photo galleries , customize albums of different things relating to your dr.
: ̗̀➛ pinterest boards
here you can add the link to your pinterest board...and a title. that's about it.
: ̗̀➛ wallet
this does not connect to any funds in this reality. it's supposed to keep track of money in your dr. i find this feature a bit dumb tbh and seems to waste more time preparing to shift than actually shifting.
: ̗̀➛ outfits
again, this is the same as wardrobe but more customized. you can add each individual clothing item separately if you wanna do that.
: ̗̀➛ belongings
you add photos and a title of what you own and its sentiment. yeah.
: ̗̀➛ or self
it has a stick figure of you. you list your family, what they're doing, their location, and your action, mood, and location.
: ̗̀➛ music group dr
without paying, you can only add one music group and one album. there is a members tab but you need a monthly subscription in order to access it.
i use this feature in one dr to describe my favorite band to listen to and an album i like. if you wanna add more than one album, then you also need to pay,
: ̗̀➛ school app
this is a doozy and has multiple tabs so this will be rapid fire.
you have your student i.d. report card, schedule.
schedule contains period, subject, and teacher. your school in your dr. you can add a photo, location, mascot, colors, class song, traditions, and history of your school.
you can also add your school uniform if you have one. this includes daily uniform and gym uniform. you can add a school map and a yearbook (????????)
again, these are fine i think but the yearbook seems unnecessary, just script who is in your class with you.
also there's a teacher mode but you can only access that with payment.
: ̗̀➛ chat
you can make a chatroom. and roleplay as every single member in that chatroom...for some reason. i don't need to repeat myself here, you already know what i'm going to say.
: ̗̀➛ chat ai
this is locked behind a paywall. just use character ai, it's free and you don't have a limit of 200 messages per day.
: ̗̀➛ family tree
for some reason you can't add siblings. the only way to add siblings kinda is to make them have the same parents as you on a new family tree.
this is just so not necessary. just write down your siblings in your script. no need for your entire extended bloodline. the universe will figure that out.
: ̗̀➛ places
you add places in your dr.
: ̗̀➛ fame phone
you can make a knock off insta account, twitter account, a wikipedia, and a youtube. again, not needed. just shift. also the settings and notifications features are locked behind a paywall.

: ̗̀➛ group shifting

you need to convert your account into an online account. but you can connect with other people and plan to shift together as a group. for those that don't know, group shifting is where you and one or more people collectively decide to shift to the same dr as different people and basically share an experience in that dr.

: ̗̀➛ sharing

the exact same thing as above. except this time you can just share your dr. you need an account to access this feature. it can give others ideas on scripts, drs, or anything else of the sort. it can be a great way to connect with others.

𓍯𓂃ᥫ᭡.🩹 final thoughts 𓍯𓂃ᥫ᭡.🩹

i think some of its features are helpful! however, other parts of it can be very distracting from shifting. i almost felt like this was an oc maker rather than shifting app. some of these i think didn't need so many features. the amount of features there are is crazy. the features section alone i needed to divide into several sections because it took so much longer to get through than i initially thought. it took about two hours to review each of them and i had to take breaks in between. to a new shifter especially, this would be so overwhelming.
you don't need face claims, body claims, or special features claims. as long as you have a general idea of what you and your desired reality is like then you're fine. this is just gonna over complicate shifting and make it seem more fictional in a way. if anything, this makes you less connected to your desired reality since your focusing so much on this one.
it wouldn't be a waste to download it but i wouldn't recommend buying it. but if you do, then more power to you.
please stay safe and happy shifting ᥫ᭡

TLDR because I realized after finishing that this is absolutely massive; Pucci with MiH has means to defeat his top tier contenders like Josuke, Johnny, Valentine and Giorno and it isn't that farfetched to believe he's a top 3 in the verse.
The top JoJo's characters have been pretty much common sense for a while now. Wonder of U, GER, Tusk, SnW:GB, D4C:LT, MiH, Heavy Weather,... (these are not in order, I just named them off the top of my head). I agree with the lists most times, except for many times where Pucci is placed. What if I told you Pucci can realistically be top 3 at least, if not top 2 (very situational)? Stay with me now. It is currently 00:32 AM, bored out of my mind with the Bleach OST blasting in my ears, so I decided fuck it, let me write this up as it's been on my mind debating myself for a couple days now. So to break this down, I'm just going to go over some general basics like who and why the top is well... the top.

Who are the top JoJo's characters? And why?

There are still ongoing debates on where some characters place specifically. Wonder of U is unanimously agreed on being the strongest stand in JoJo's and I agree. The debates come later though, like who is top 2? Can Tusk Act 4 bypass RTZ? Can Go Beyond kill Giorno before Giorno gets Gappy? Can Love Train contest with Wonder of U? All of these are valid topics people use to debate who deserves the top 2 or top 3 spot.
Wonder of U is unanimously accepted to be THE strongest stand due to the many statements behind it in part 8 that justify its abstract existence, dura neg, logic manipulation and just its overall insanely powerful hax ability and it was only barely defeated in a 3v1 (in which 1 of them had A LOT of knowledge and prep time) with the need of an ability that completely defied all laws of physics and universal logic. It worked because it logically should never work.
Go Beyond has arguments towards being the strongest since well... it beat Wonder of U. But then come the arguments that Josuke simply had a lot of help to barely pull it off to begin with, let alone doing it solo. So Go Beyond is already not above Wonder of U, but what about everyone else? I mean, it's an ability that doesn't exist but exists at the same time. It doesn't make logical sense, and that's what makes it so powerful. It has no logical counterplay to it and general defenses like RTZ (will come to it later), Love Train (will also come to it), infinity, GGGH,... just cannot negate and these are abilities the characters that use them rely heavily on to be threats. GER wouldn't be what it is without RTZ, same for D4C, Gojo and the Green Baby, so that makes Go Beyond pretty strong and a very big threat by default. the one issue with it is it's just way too unreliable to pull off consistently. It took Josuke the help of Yasuho and Paisley Park to guide his bubble to WoU, and then a direct point blank shot to WoU's face to finally put it down, even then he had to tank and push through many calamities sent towards him. So Go Beyond just simply isn't reliable enough to justify it being that strong, especially when the other stands just have more consistently strong abilities.
Tusk Act 4. This stand basically does everything you could ask. Basically unrivaled offensive capabilities with the infinite rotation, very flexible range with the wormholes,... The one thing holding it back is the setup it needs to be pulled off. Johnny NEEDS to ride on a horse and reached the perfect sync state between jockey and horse to form the golden ratio and channel the infinite rotation. This is a prerequisite that cannot be argued. Johnny had to use Slow Dancer against Valentine and then had to do the same thing to save Jorge from the misfortune put upon him when Johnny wished to save his wife. What makes Tusk so powerful is the IF it lands aspect. The only counterplay to the infinite rotation is simply cutting your affected limb off before it spreads, and Diego only managed to do that thanks to prior intel and the insane resolve it took to chop his leg off with no regret. The other counter to it is if Johnny himself decides to spare you, so I can't really count it as counterplay. The infinite rotation has been shown and stated to have the strongest gravitational influence in the JoJo's verse since it has unanimous control over the entire multiverse purely through gravitational influence. MiH only has universal influence, C-Moon's influence is way more personal.
D4C:LT. Only the greatest defensive ability in the JoJo's verse. A power able to redirect any misfortune towards the user to any timeline in the multiverse and attract fortune to the "center" (in this case, Valentine). This ability has caused massive scale environmental destruction, basically colliding the forest with the sea purely through attraction, while also killing Gyro simply by rejecting any potential dangers. The only way this ability was defeated was by having an attack that can affect the entire multiverse at once hit it, basically preventing it from redirecting the attack to another timeline since the attack already exists in these timelines to begin with. Love Train is one of these "just because A beats B and C is stronger than A, doesn't mean C beats B". There are legitimate arguments to believe Love Train can redirect all of WoU's calamities. The corpse has shown direct fortune manipulation in part 8 when Johnny prayed to the corpse to cure his wife from her illness, only to redirect the misfortune to his son, then redirected the infinite rotation back to Johnny when it was struck when Johnny used it on Jorge to cure him, only for calamity to strike Johnny later on very Wonder of U like when the boulder crushed him. The corpse has shown direct manipulation over the concept of fortune and misfortune, which is the foundation that built the calamities Wonder of U uses (calamities are basically misfortunes specifically targeted towards someone). Yet Love Train lost to Tusk, so does that make Tusk stronger than WoU? No.
GER. The previously believed to be strongest stand in the verse. Maybe it could've been sheer popularity since the part 5 anime garnered a lot of hype, which attracted a massive amount of people, spawning many misconceptions, highballs,... that simply do not make sense and well, many fans just weren't familiar with the manga, where most of the truly OP stands were invented. RTZ is what made GER what it is in the powerscaling scene today. A very strong ability that will revert and nullify the will and actions of any person who poses a threat to Giorno, no matter Giorno's physical state. The issue is, unless you're posing a direct threat to kill Giorno, RTZ will not activate (no, doing things like exploding the planet will not work since that technically still counts as a threat that can harm or kill Giorno, in this case kill). Now, the only form of counterplay we've seen for GER isn't even canon since it came from the Eyes of Heaven game where Over Heaven DIO rewrote GER's reality and made it that it can't nullify DIO's attacks (this happened the moment TWOH and GER clashed fists), but due to the canonity of the feat being all over the place, we just can't take it as fact, but by following general rules like the fact RTZ works through the manipulation of cause and effect, then by logical construction, forms of acausality bypass RTZ, so there's the counterplay, which is by no means an easy or accessible way to beat someone. so GER is indeed pretty strong and a very strong contender.
MiH, the main contender of this post and the whole reason I'm making it. Now, many people like to downplay MiH by saying it needs to speed up to be a threat, which I disagree. Pucci was speedblitzing Jotaro very early into time's acceleration and by comparing the watch's seconds arm to the moment on the rooftop compared to the moment in the ocean, the speed difference was MASSIVE. By that we can already say base MiH is at least FTL+ so no, in a lot of cases, Pucci does not have to play the waiting game (yes many characters are way faster than that, but many aren't. FTL+ is pretty fast for most verses if we're sticking to the action-adventure shounens). Now, of course, it still means you should try to deal with Pucci as soon as possible because the longer you wait, the bigger his advantage becomes. MiH has shown virtually no weaknesses other than large scale environmental manipulation to disrupt Pucci's bodily functions. MiH's base speed is already faster than most, if not all, of the stands I mentioned above (the only arguable ones would be Tusk and GER). Now, for me what makes MiH so strong and I don't know if it's overlooked or not, but it's the fact Pucci has complete control over the timeline once the universe resets.

Why I believe Made in Heaven is consistently stronger than most of the stands I mentioned above.

Pucci simply has ways to defeat many of the stands that are in the top 5 purely through the fact he can go to the moment where they're weak and beat them. The catch is, Pucci needs to play his cards right for him to be able to pull it off, but I personally don't think it's a stretch that he can pull it off if we go by his BIQ feats in part 6. Pucci is a fighter that plans ahead. He's been building up to the Heaven Plan ever since he heard news of DIO's defeat and learned he'll have to take over DIO's teachings and pull it off himself, he is the successor, the one that inherited DIO's heaven, the resolution of one's destiny. Many of the stands I have noted above have a prerequisite of getting attacked or having a direct threat posed onto them to trigger, like GER and Love Train; or they're simply too situational and unreliable to consistently pull off, like Go Beyond.
Other than WoU, the only legitimate threats I see for Pucci are Tusk and GER. Now, because Tusk exists in every timeline all at once, you could argue the infinite rotation will just ignore the universe's reset but that's taking into account if you believe the parts 1-6 canon has a multiverse like the parts 7-9 canon, yet stating so is headcanon since both canons are completely unrelated to each other so there is no legitimate proof the original JoJo's canon has a multiverse for Tusk to exist in. In fact, a singular universe cosmology is more favored thanks to the universe reset visual explanation we got stating the creation of a new world that can be seen as a parallel dimension, the "start of a new world",... So tusk's threat now mostly relies on the conditions behind the fight. Where does it take place? A vacuum? The original canon? The new canon?
Now GER on the other hand is where it gets tough for Pucci because whether he wins completely relies on if he attacks Giorno or not. If Pucci decides Giorno is too big of a threat to let move on to the new universe, then he'll attack Giorno and trigger RTZ, effectively losing to Giorno. But if he doesn't attack him, then this will allow him to reset the universe then go back to where Giorno doesn't have Requiem and fight him then. This enters way too much into speculation and I would like to believe that by default, Pucci will most likely look into disposing of Giorno before moving on to the new universe (which won't work). Just that there is a CHANCE Pucci wins, just very unlikely.
Now, I get the arguments in saying that while Pucci has control over the timeline, he still isn't above fate or others' destinies. The reason he lost is because Emporio is destined to escape Green Dolphin St. and go to Cape Canaveral (which was heavily implied to have happened when Ermes's counterpart suggests stopping by the space station when the crew hitch-hikes with Anakiss and irene). So saying he can just go back to before they got their abilities just won't work because of their destiny, they are "fated to move on". The issue with this argument is we're already breaking "destiny" by having them fight to begin with, so anything fate related to prevent Pucci is just thrown out the window, but I can see the argument being valid in some cases.
In conclusion, I'm not saying Pucci is stronger than them in crossverse battles. I do believe he is a better contender in fights from verses like Naruto, One Piece, Dragon Ball,... since he bypasses the AP limitations GER has and the speed limitations and setup Tusk might have while Tusk and GER will stomp weaker verses like JJK and Demon Slayer where these limitations aren't that big of an issue. I'm mostly looking at this in battles purely between JoJo's characters. Anyways, the Bleach OST absolutely slaps and don't drink caffeine at 12 AM.

Inside the Commander's office, Orwell sat at the desk with his hands folded in front of him as Maurier paced around restlessly.
How did it come to this? Well, it would appear that someone had accidentally pissed off a certain ability user earlier this morning, and as a result.. well, this happened.
"Settle down, Orwell." Orwell... or, no, Maurier, spoke from where he was sitting. Expression blank and serious as always though it looked a lot more natural than Orwell's panicked expression on his own face.
The effect will go away on its own so it wasn't much to worry about for sure, however it was, for sure, quite a pain.

I had multiple cases in one match where I shot a guy point blank in the face multiple times and he didn’t die. Also i literally hit an unarmored open top jeep with an RPG right in the middle from a building and none of them died and they killed me. I actually stopped shooting because i thought it was friendly figuring no way an enemy could have survived the direct hit. I wasn’t lagging or having high ping either at the time. I also wasn’t close enough to where the rpg goes through the target either I saw the explosion right on the vehicle

I know this is abit of a sterotype but you rarely see a black guy with a clear face pic in their profile. Especially in my area, I even see more South Asians with a face pic. the majoirty of profiles r just of random body parts/blank profiles.

I was homeless, in between getting back on medication and in the process of replacing the medication I was on.
I had a breakdown in public, I was ranting to nobody, crying, and acting completely out of character. I said something, and someone passing by told me to f*ck off. I assaulted that invidiaul moments later.
After the altercation took place I was arrested, I told the Officer during the arrest I was suffering from psychosis. The following day I made bail, but several news articles were posted online without any mention of a mental health crisis.
I already have a really blank job history from the past ten years, and I been homeless on more than one occassion spanning several months at a time.
However, now I don't know how I'm suppose to ever find a room, or housing rental with my name plastered all over the internet. Let alone find a job.
It's been several months, and I've been stable on medication since. But if it wasn't for family I'd still be facing homelessness, and without them I don't know how I'm going to manage to survive with this out there.

Chapter 2: Shadows in the Dark
The Willowbrook Sheriff's Department was unusually quiet, a somber stillness hanging over the bullpen. It had been two days since the grisly discovery in the woods, and the small town was still reeling from the shock and horror of it all. Deputy Sarah Harding sat at her desk, staring blankly at the crime scene photos spread before her. The images were seared into her mind - the mangled remains, the blood-soaked leaves, the strange, unsettling tracks that seemed to belong to no known animal.
But it was what she had seen and heard in the forest that night that haunted her most. The glowing yellow eyes, the bone-chilling growl...it was like something out of a nightmare. And yet, she knew with grim certainty that it was all too real.
Sheriff Ethan Blackwood emerged from his office, his face haggard and his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. He'd been pouring over the scant evidence for hours, desperately searching for some clue that could lead them to the killer. But so far, all they had were more questions than answers.
"Tell me we've got something," he said, his voice rough with fatigue as he approached Sarah's desk. "Anything that can shed some light on what the hell is going on here."
Sarah shook her head, frustration evident in the tense set of her shoulders. "Nothing concrete. The coroner's report came back, but it's just confirming what we already suspected - the victim was mauled by some kind of large predator. But the specifics of the attack, the savagery of it...it doesn't match any known animal in the area."
Ethan's jaw clenched, his gaze distant as he recalled the eerie scene in the woods. The way Sarah had described the glowing eyes watching her from the darkness, the otherworldly growl that had raised the hairs on the back of his neck...it was like something out of a horror movie. And yet, he couldn't dismiss it. Not when he'd seen the raw, primal fear in his deputy's eyes.
"What about the tracks?" he asked, grasping at straws. "Have we been able to identify what made them?"
Sarah pulled out a photo, the image grainy but clear enough to make out the distinctive paw prints. They were huge, easily dwarfing a human hand, and the claws...Ethan suppressed a shudder. Whatever had made those marks, it was no ordinary beast.
"I've sent the images to every wildlife expert and cryptozoologist I could find," Sarah said, shaking her head. "But so far, no one's been able to give me a definitive answer. Some say it could be a bear, others insist it's a wolf...but they all agree on one thing. The size and depth of those tracks...it's like nothing they've ever seen before."
Ethan scrubbed a hand over his face, the weight of the case settling heavily on his shoulders. They were dealing with an unknown predator, one that seemed to defy all logical explanation. And with each passing day, the likelihood of another attack grew higher.
"Okay," he said at last, his voice grim with resolve. "We need to widen our search. Talk to the old-timers, the hunters, anyone who might have seen or heard something that could give us a lead. And we need to warn the public. Tell them to stay out of the woods until further notice, and to report any unusual sightings immediately."
Sarah nodded, already reaching for the phone. "I'll put the word out. And I'll keep digging into the historical records, see if there have been any similar attacks in the past that might give us some insight."
As she set to work, Ethan retreated to his office, his mind racing. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were dealing with something beyond their understanding. Something that lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike again.
And as he stared out the window at the dense, dark forests that surrounded Willowbrook, he couldn't help but wonder...
What kind of monster were they dealing with?

I was going to start applying for my next job, and I was hoping to get some feedback on my resume!
Be ruthless please
Some context/questions/concerns

• The volkswagen project is my senior capstone (I put externship)
• Most of the project bullet points are from when I had first started to experiment with making projects outside of college. I graduated in 2023, so I'm almost at 1 YOE in my first role.
• I am most worried about my simple/older projects counting against me when applying for my next role. By that I mean, those projects are when I first started out and simply don't showcase my current abilities/lack depth. But, I know my resume would be virtually blank without project experience, so I decided to leave it in. I do need to work on my bullet points, but I am not sure how to express results when the projects aren't customer facing.

https://preview.redd.it/s768lx7cc91d1.png?width=1248&format=png&auto=webp&s=ea60f01f88fa22d9af417a2361b5bd567b2c9895

So like if you play mutants and masterminds or savage worlds, or were just thinking of mutants with cool powers, what have you ever come up with over the years. I'll go first.
Metal Master: is a young mutant with the ability to psychokinetically control and manipulate any type of metal within visual range. He doesn't manipulate electromagnetism like Magneto or Polaris though. In fact the running joke is that everyone keeps on forgetting that he can't control magnetism, thinks he's related to Magneto, or think that he was the alien Metal Master who has the same powers.
Yvette Stepford: She's another one of the Stepford Cuckoos, but unlike her sisters she's a psychic blank instead of a Telepath. She constantly admits an aura that nullifies all psychic activity in a 60 ft. Area. So any mutant with psionic based powers, like Xavier, Jean, Destiny, Vulcan, cannot use them at all within her aura. She also has a diamond form like Emma and her Psychic Aura is suppressed while in her diamond form. The reason why she's like that is because Sublime created her as a sort of psychic "control rod" to shut down the 1000 in 1 if they ever went out of control.
Melegaunt the Black: Is a witchbreed Sorcerer and Alchemist from Otherworld. Called Melegaunt the Black because he wears black robes and gloves, but is actually an okay guy. He's constantly wearing an enchanted iron mask that keeps people from falling under his witchbreed powers. His powers make him a literal "prince charming". Anyone who gazes upon his face or listens to his voice will slowly start to fall in love with him. Now it's only a romantic or sexual love if the person is into men, otherwise it becomes a very intense platonic love. They'll see Melegaunt as a treasured best friend, or a surrogate brother or father fogure. This love becomes more intense and self-destructive the longer he is around ppl and will eventually drive his victims insane. Any perceived rejection from Meleguant could cause a person to try and kill him or kill themselves. The "love" does fade if Melegaunt stays away from the subject, but it is like a drug so his victims will constantly try to be around him.
Talos: All the Carbon atoms in his body have been replaced with pure Vibranium. So he's like Colossus in that he's super strong and super durable, but he's also very light weight and very stealthy. His body movement does not generate sound and actually absorbs and amplifies the sound around him. Unlike Colossus he can't turn back to normal, but he sees this as a blessing and not a curse like say Ben Grimm does. His nerve endings still work so he can feel things, and he can eat and breath like normal. He was suffering from cystic fibrosis and only had a life expectancy of 38 years with the current deterioration of his lungs, but ever since his mutation activated his CF has cleared up and he's practically immortal. Physically he doesn't look like a typical powerhouse, he's only 6' and is very lean and skinny, but he's as strong as Colossus, She-Hulk, and the Thing.

I was just sat talking to myself, as I love to do, and I realised something that feels quite significant. I was talking about my future and all the things I want to do, and how excited I feel about all of it, and then I felt this part of myself chime in like 'yeah but let's think about the logistics of that', so I started talking about all the logistical details, and then I was like hold on a minute, why am I doing this? I was having such a good time, what happened there?
I realised that every time I'd express a dream for my future, or something I felt excited about or interested in to my mum growing up, she'd shoot me down every time without fail. There'd always be a 'but have you thought about this thing, or that thing?' or 'but this wouldn't be possible for this reason', or just an unreadable, blank look on her face without any sort of response at all - she'd never share in my excitement and wonder. I realised that my imagination died very early on because she killed it. The neglect and abuse certainly didn't help either.
Recently I've been feeling super depressed, and feeling like my future is dark, imperceptible, and that I'm not going to 'make it' - whether that means I won't succeed in fulfilling goals, or that I won't be alive at all. I had just started feeling better yesterday, and then all this excitement came pouring out, and I felt that urge to stop it or 'be realistic' - and then I realised the direct connection to mum.
I lost my ability to imagine, to dream, to feel excited about all the things I want to do, about how good they will feel - and I've decided, as a big Fuck You to both my inner critic and my parents, that I'm going to start intentionally spending time imagining my future as often as possible, and feeling all the excitement and joy that naturally comes up. I'm going to give myself permission to write, draw and think, in a very playful, child-like way about the things I feel passionate about and desire. It's also about trusting that I'm capable of handling logistics when I need to, but not swapping out my imagination for that out of fear.
I haven't had a healing 'ah-ha!' for a while, but this feels like one. Woo hoo. Time to play.

My cereset has been one session per week. I've done two sessions. As stated in the title, I'm autistic and I also have CPTSD and did five years of EMDR that I finished in 2020. I've had disordered sleep and migraines for my entire life.
Cereset makes me feel disoriented and I struggle to drive afterward. I also feel a reduced need to speak but I used to talk a lot and I think that was a trauma response to my family trying to "abuse the autism out of me." My sleep is improving but it's a mixed bag. I feel like there are some headaches after treatment sessions but the migraines seem to be reduced. Oddly, I feel like I'm starting to notice social cues and other things that I never felt aware of before. Like there were blanks I didn't know were blanks and they're starting to be filled in.
My husband has been very supportive. The first few days after the session, I'm on planet fog but then he sees in my face that I look healthier and happier. After my mom passed away, I had brain fog that would just not clear. Complicated grief is normal with losing your primary abuser but man, I just lost my focus entirely. I know it will take time but I do feel like I'm starting to be able to think again. It's pretty amazing.