Ischemic heart disease and arrythmia agent orange
PlantBasedDiet - Whole Food Plant Based Diet subreddit (WFPBD)
2012.06.24 04:34 zapff PlantBasedDiet - Whole Food Plant Based Diet subreddit (WFPBD)
Home of the Whole Food Plant Based Diet (WFPB)! A whole-food plant-based, low-fat diet could reverse heart disease and diabetes.
2018.06.18 00:10 Pricher74 VIAGRA Sildenafil Citrate : Support and Discuss
VIAGRA Sildenafil Citrate - is used to treat male sexual function problems ( Erectile Dysfunction or Impotence ). Sildenafil also boost a chemical in your body called nitric oxide. This action encourages the muscles in your penis to relax. Relaxed muscles allow blood to flow freely so that when you’re aroused, you can get an erection. No wonder that this erection pill remains to be one of the most popular impotence treatment medications.
2016.12.09 20:57 MaxLiberum Trump Government - malevolence tempered by incompetence
Trump Government - malevolence tempered by incompetence. Unorganized crime syndicate.
2024.06.02 01:07 CIAHerpes I live alone in Alaska. The Twisted Man has been peeking in through my windows.
A few years ago, I decided I needed a major life change. Everything seemed to be going downhill- my finances, my mental health, my life. I would go weeks without sleeping sometimes as the heavy traffic passed through the city streets down below. Every time I went outside, I saw more homeless people, more needles and crack pipes littering the ground, more muggings and assaults and overdoses and deaths. The city had become a wasteland, and I knew it was time to leave.
I had no girlfriend, no wife, no kids. My parents had both died a few years prior and I barely talked to my siblings anymore. I had nothing to tie me down to this place where I felt like I was dying inside a little more each day.
That was when I sold nearly everything I owned, got in my car and drove up to Alaska to try starting anew. I bought a small cabin and a plot of land in the middle of its majestic mountains and dark, enchanting forests. In the winter, the Northern Lights would shine through like the eyes of God, sending out divine trails of light that danced through the sky in cosmic waves.
And while the move did help give me some peace of mind, in the end, the source of all my problems had ultimately followed me thousands of miles into this endless wilderness. It would take me a long time to realize the cause of all this misery was myself.
Because, as a wise man once said, “Wherever I go, there I am.”
***
I lived in that cabin for three months without any major issues other than the constant threat of bears, moose and wolves. I had a rifle and a shotgun for hunting, a small garden in the backyard and a solar panel to generate electricity.
“This is the life,” I said, relaxing on a hammock I had strung across the corner of the cabin while staring at the endless beauty directly outside the window. White-capped mountains loomed like giants in front of thick clusters of evergreens. A virgin covering of fluffy snow made the entire world glisten and sparkle. There wasn’t a house or road in sight.
“No work, no stress, no pollution, no cars honking all the time…” I closed my eyes, breathing in the clean air. I ended up falling asleep for a couple hours, waking up just as the Sun had started setting. Bright orange streaks mixed with the bloody smears of the fading light as it disappeared behind the mountains.
I groggily arose, stumbling over to make a cup of instant coffee. As I sipped it, I wandered around the room, looking for something to pass the time. There were still quite a few random objects left behind by the last owner that I hadn’t gotten rid of yet. I had moved in to find a stocked bookshelf filled with classics by Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein. Bored, I started rifling through the collection, looking for something good to pass the time. As I shuffled past “A Maze of Death” and “Ubik”, something caught my eye.
A black, leather-bound book with no title or author name stood there, its cover faded with time and wear. Curious, I pulled it out and opened it. I saw the cursive scrawled across the pages in a neat, copperplate script and realized it was a diary left behind by the previous owner. The first entry was dated “January 9th, 2015.” This is what it said.
***
“I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not. I went into town to talk to my therapist yesterday and she said I should try writing everything down. She talks to me like it’s all in my head. But I know it’s not.
“When I first moved into the cabin, it seemed like Paradise. I never thought in a million years that something would be slinking around at night. I never thought it would be hiding under my bed, peeking in windows and following me like a shadow.
“Right now, I’m snowed in with a cup of coffee in one hand and my pistol in the other. I can’t sleep anymore. I keep hearing something shuffling around under the bed. Sometimes, I think I even hear ragged breathing, as if a corpse with dirt in its lungs had come back to life.
“I’ve caught glimpses of that thing in the darkness. Whatever it is, its skin is loose, almost falling off the bone. It almost looks like a naked, emaciated man. Its eyes are rotted and dark, its back hunched, its spine twisted and jutting out like tumors. It moves in this slow, jerky way, but I can never seem to catch it. Its body seems broken and out of alignment. Its legs bend the wrong way sometimes.
“By the time I turn on the lights or try to take a video of it, it’s always disappeared. But its fetid odor remains. It lingers in the cabin like a sweet-smelling, spreading infection.
“I don’t know what it wants from me. I want to leave, but with the storm raging outside, I’m stuck here, unable to get all the way back to town. The snow surrounds the cabin in mounds five feet high. I feel like a prisoner caged with a rabid beast, not knowing when it will strike.
“My wife claims she hasn’t seen or heard anything, but she keeps vanishing on me. Last night, she disappeared in the middle of a snowstorm. Where did she go? I asked her in the morning, but she said she was here the whole time. She didn’t remember anything. There’s no way she went into town. There wasn’t time and the trails were impassable that far down.
“Something’s going on here, but I don’t know what it is. I’m truly scared for our lives.”
I slammed the diary shut, not wanting to read anymore. I didn’t want to become infected by some kind of contagious cabin fever. If the last owner had gone insane in the mountains and started hallucinating naked corpses crawling around, I really didn’t want to know.
I shoved the diary back in the bookshelf, going for “A Maze of Death” instead. I tried to forget what I had read in the diary as I flew through the novella. All night, I tried to get the image of the naked, twisting man with rotted eyes out of my head, but I couldn’t.
I eventually fell asleep right before dawn. But, as my eyes were closing, I thought I saw a silhouette in the window- a starved man with excited, black eyes that seemed to be rotting out of his skull. I thought I saw him put his inhumanly long fingers against the glass as he leaned forward. I blinked, sitting up and glancing out into the white, snow-covered wonderland.
There was nothing there.
***
Another hunter occasionally followed the deer trails near my cabin. A frozen lake stood a quarter-mile away, the surface white and covered in thick drifts of snow. I bundled up, deciding to go outside for a hike in the frigid dawn. I strapped on my snowshoes and grabbed my shotgun, as I always did when I went outside. I never knew when a polar bear might be waiting around the next tree, after all.
I opened the door, seeing footprints pressed into the snow all around my house. At first, I thought it was that silhouette I had seen, the nightmarish thing from the diary. But the footprints didn’t go over to my window. They followed the trail twenty feet away, veering off towards the frozen lake at the bottom of the hill. I glanced down in that direction, seeing a black figure plodding slowly forward.
“Steve!” I cried, recognizing my only neighbor in a four-mile radius. He had a cabin about a mile away on his own little plot of land. He jumped, clearly startled by the sudden noise. His black snow pants and heavy fur coat swished together as he spun, raising his rifle high. When he saw me, he immediately lowered it and put a gloved hand up in a friendly greeting.
“Hey Josh! Surprised to see you up this early,” he yelled over the muted wintry landscape. Sounds always seemed different after it snowed, as if all the noise in the world had become faded and dead.
“Yeah, I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping,” I said, slinging my shotgun around my shoulder. “What are you doing anyway?”
“Just a little hunting, you know,” he said, giving me a sly wink. “Animals are always most active around dusk and dawn, it seems. That’s when I always have the best luck, anyway.” He stepped close to me, staring me in the eyes. “You do look like shit. Those bags under your eyes are big enough to carry groceries in.”
“Yeah, trust me, I know… Hey, this might sound a little weird, but did you know the previous owner of this cabin?” I asked. Steve’s wrinkled, old face fell into a scowl. His expression immediately became guarded and distant.
“Sure, sure, we met,” he exclaimed bluntly. He seemed to be searching my face for something, but I didn’t know what. His reaction left me feeling off-balance and nervous.
“Is he still around?” I said. Steve’s scowl deepened.
“Buddy, I don’t know what this is about, but he’s dead. He’s been dead. He died in that cabin, actually.” He pointed a finger at my home accusingly. With those words, my heart seemed to drop into my stomach. Waves of dread flowed through my body like water.
“How… how did he die? Like a heart attack or something?” I asked. Steve’s gaze turned downwards. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Do you know that Alaska has the highest missing persons rate in the entire United States? It’s not even close. In fact, for the population size, we have far more people who go missing and never get found than anywhere else. They even have a name for it: the Alaska Triangle,” Steve said. “And we’re square in the middle of it.” I stared blankly at him, wondering where he was going with this. It seemed like a way to avoid answering my question.
“No, I didn’t know that…” I responded. Steve nodded, raising his head again. He heaved a deep sigh.
“Look, the thing with the last owner and his wife… it’s somewhat disturbing. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you, but it’s certainly not going to help your peace of mind. And it definitely isn’t going to help you get some sleep.”
“I want to know,” I insisted instantly. The wind started to whip past us. Flakes of ice and snow flew sideways in the sudden currents.
“Let’s go back to your cabin then,” Steve said, pulling his heavy fur-lined hood off and shaking out his long, black hair behind him. “I could use a bit of whiskey to warm up.”
***
We sat down with a bottle of Johnny Walker and two shot glasses. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but Steve certainly was. He chugged three shots in the span of a minute. I sipped at mine, drinking half and putting it back down on the coffee table with a thunk. Steve grunted, hissing through his open mouth for a moment.
“Ugh, that’s the good stuff,” he said, slamming his chest as the burning liquor worked its way down. Steve looked up at me with a new sparkle in his eyes. “Huh, so you want to know about what happened to Will Lenning. Well, I’ll tell you that no one really knows the whole story. I used to see him occasionally, come down and have a drink and talk. We all know each other around here, obviously.” I nodded, motioning him on. “He seemed like a normal, upstanding guy. He kinda reminded me of you, actually. A young guy trying to escape the hustle and bustle of the city life, the cancer of the American Dream.
“Well, he was here for maybe a couple months, I don’t know. Everything seemed fine. We used to go skeet shooting occasionally, have a beer, you know. We’d get together with a couple other hunters who live closer to town and sometimes play some poker. I never saw anything odd about Will. I never could have predicted what happened to him.” He heaved a long sigh at this, looking out the window at the sharp mountains with an expression of nostalgia.
“Well, what happened to him?” I asked, encouraging him to go on.
“He started talking about seeing someone peering in through his window at night. He talked about hearing sounds from under his bed while he was laying there in the dark- sounds like diseased breathing and shuffling. He started keeping all the lights on in his cabin twenty-four hours a day.” Steve leaned close to me. A glimmer of fear rippled across his pale, wrinkled face. “He started to lose his mind. Started digging holes all over the place, looking for something. Even in the middle of snowstorms, I would occasionally see him outside, digging. It seemed like he never slept anymore. It was classic cabin fever if I ever saw it.
“It was only a few weeks later that I came over here, concerned. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, which was fairly unusual. I found the door hanging wide open. Propped up in a chair in the exact spot where you now sit, Will lay with a blast hole showing clear through his skull, a shotgun laying at his feet.
“And next to him, I found a blood-stained diary opened to the middle page. The last entry was stained with blood spatter, but still visible. I remember leaning down and reading it. It was only a few sentences long.” I glanced over at the bookshelf with the same diary, saying nothing.
“It said something like, ‘I see now what’s going on. The Twisted Man is leading me to the truth. Today, I will finally find it.’”
“And that was his suicide note?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest. He nodded.
“Yeah. I went into town and got some rangers to come check it out. Eventually, they got cops and CSI there. They took all the stuff as evidence, including the diary,” he said. “Good riddance, I say. Reading something like that is never beneficial. Sometimes delusions spread like a virus, you know what I mean?” I did, but I said nothing. I glanced back at the diary, its black leather cover gleaming like a crouching snake.
And I wondered- if the police took the diary as evidence, how did it get back here?
***
“You said he had a wife living here with him, too?” I asked.
“Yeah… she went missing around the same time,” he said. “Pretty bizarre. The cops thought maybe she just moved away, but…” He shook his head grimly. “As far as I know, she was never seen again. It was like she had evaporated into thin air.”
After Steve left, I walked stiffly over to the bookshelf, taking down the diary. I flipped open through the pages. In the middle, I found the last entry. Spatters of old, darkened blood were scattered over the page like raindrops. I found the suicide note and read the date.
“January 27th, 2015,” it read. Will Lenning had not lived long after he started seeing the Twisted Man. I wondered if my fate would be the same.
The Sun had started to set outside as I sat with the diary at the small circular kitchen table, eating some stewed venison and rice as I read through the entries. At the end, Will Lenning said the Twisted Man had been trying to guide him somewhere, that, in fact, the Twisted Man had been trying to protect him from some great evil, rather than being the source of it.
I scoffed, feeling a flash of anger at his stupidity. His naivety obviously led to his death. But then a flash of insight struck me like lightning.
What if I was committing the same kind of stupidity? Perhaps I should just grab my gun and valuables and leave. I could take off on the snowmobile and be in town within a couple hours.
But, in my heart, I knew I would not. Something about the mystery of all this beckoned me to stay. Like a siren leading sailors to destruction, my curiosity called out to me, and I knew I would not be leaving that night. I needed answers.
And, sadly, I would find them.
***
I had fallen asleep with an empty bottle of beer in my hand. I sat in front of the TV, which only got satellite reception. There were, of course, no cable or phone lines threading their way through the forest. All of my power came from stored solar energy. Since I rarely watched TV and really only used it to cook or heat up water for bathing, the energy produced was sufficient even in winter. Tonight, though, I needed its sound, its mindless flashing of light and colors and canned laughter. It seemed to drive away the creeping, suffocating presence like a candle.
I woke suddenly. The TV flashed with static. The repetitive hissing of the white noise spit from the speakers like thousands of snakes. I glanced up at the clock. 3:33 AM. I looked around the dark cabin, confused for a long moment. I didn’t understand what had woken me so abruptly. The satellite had never gone out before, either, even with the howling winds and freezing hail of the Alaskan winter.
The TV started flickering as if the static were rising upwards. Black lines traced their way horizontally across the screen. The hissing deepened into a gurgle, and for a second, I thought I heard faint words behind the white noise. I thought I heard breathing, slow and diseased, like the death gasp of a drowning man.
A black line rose across the TV and an image came into view. The cabin was suddenly plunged into silence, except for the shrieking, wintry wind outside. I leaned close to the screen, confused at what I was looking at. It looked like a live camera feed of a room. As I took in the details, I realized it was my cabin. I saw myself in the chair, leaning close to the screen. I raised my hand, and the miniature version of me on the screen did likewise. Ice water seemed to drip down my spine as waves of dread coursed through my body.
“What the fuck is this?” I whispered, looking back to where the camera should be. It was just a coarse wooden ceiling in that corner. I turned back to the screen and nearly screamed.
The TV showed a pale, naked man crouching directly behind my chair now. With jerky movements, he rose, his broken spine twisting and shivering. A hissing voice rang out from the speakers. It spoke as if it had dirt and writhing maggots in its throat.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death,” it gurgled. “Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
Long, broken fingers with blackened nails reached out to touch my shoulders. I jumped out of the chair, stumbling back as I spun around in terror. My back smashed into the TV, and it fell to the floor with a shattering of glass and an explosion of light.
In those few moments before the darkness descended on me like a blanket, I thought I glimpsed a pale, sunken face with rotted, blackened eyes peeking out from behind the chair.
***
I turned on every light in the cabin, but there was no sign of the Twisted Man now. I knew I had to get out of there, though. I thought about the warning that the voice had spoken. If the creature wanted to attack me, then why hadn’t it just killed me while I was sleeping? None of it made sense. Who was watching me? The Twisted Man? And if he was, why warn me? Perhaps it was psychological warfare, I thought to myself. Perhaps the Twisted Man simply liked to play with his food before he ate it.
Thoughts raced through my head at a thousand miles an hour as I threw on snow pants and a couple heavy sweaters and coats. I covered up my entire body as much as I could to try to prevent frostbite. I had made up my mind to flee. There was no snowstorm tonight, though the entire landscape was blanketed in it and I knew the wind chill would be like an ice blade whipping against my skin. It was extremely dangerous to travel in the middle of the night like this in temperatures that might reach negative thirty degrees. Steve had been right, after all- Alaska had the highest missing persons rate of any state, and many of them were never found, their bodies likely frozen solid in the deep snow dozens of miles from the nearest town.
I grabbed my shotgun, jumped on my snowmobile and started heading to Steve’s cabin. I hoped I could wait there until the sunrise and then figure out what to do next.
But fate would take the decision out of my hands.
***
I felt like there were eyes watching me as I drove along the narrow, winding deer trail. The boughs of the evergreens reached into the path like greedy hands, grabbing at my coat and legs. More than a couple times, I thought I saw a pale, naked figure standing in the snow, but it had always gone when I turned to look.
I gave a sigh of relief when Steve’s place appeared in the distance. I could see the lights twinkling through the small windows of his log cabin. I pulled up next to his door, looking down. I saw two pairs of footprints there, one much smaller than the other. I found it odd, but shrugged it off. The snowmobile cut out with a sucking gurgle.
I knocked on the door hard a few times. Steve appeared after a few moments, groggy and half-dressed. He blinked slowly as he looked me up and down. His wrinkled face fell into a frown.
“Steve, I need a favor,” I said quickly. “Something weird is happening in my cabin. Can I stay here until morning, until maybe I can go to town or something? I can’t stay at my place tonight. I just can’t.” He nodded, yawning and motioning me in.
“You can sleep on the couch, I guess,” Steve said. “Put that shotgun somewhere safe, though, boy.” He had a partitioned bedroom in his cabin. It was significantly larger than my little one-room cabin, though it was basically still just a joint kitchen-living room, a small bedroom and a bathroom. He pointed to a well-worn couch in the corner and gave me an apathetic wave as he stumbled back into his bedroom, slamming the door.
I couldn’t sleep, though. I tiptoed around the room, looking at Steve’s bookshelf. He had a rather strange taste in books- lots of Anne Rule and true crime there. I saw dozens of books about Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Richard Chase, Herbert Mullin, Jeffrey Dahmer and Richard Ramirez among the collection. At the end, a large, black binder stood, unlabeled and worn-looking. It reminded me of the look of that leather-bound diary for a second, and my heart dropped. But logically, I knew this was just a coincidence. Yet, still, I pulled out the binder, my curiosity piqued.
What I found inside filled me with dread and horror.
Countless news clippings covered the length of it. The first clipping was from nearly twenty years earlier, about a woman who went missing in the Alaskan forest while hiking. A later one confirmed that her body was never found, and that her family was still hoping that she might turn up alive somewhere. A reward was offered for any information, it said.
And every page after that was more of the same: missing woman, murdered prostitute, missing man, no leads. I kept flipping through until I found clippings about Will Lenning’s suicide and the sudden disappearance of his wife. On the article about the suicide, Steve had used red marker to scrawl, “HA HA!” next to it.
I heard the click of a gun being cocked from behind me. I froze as Steve’s voice traveled across the room like a whisper.
“How do you like my work, friend?” he asked, his tone jovial and mocking.
***
I still held the binder of horrors tightly in my hands as I stared open-mouthed at this man I thought I knew.
“It’s you? What, you killed Will Lenning and his wife? And a lot of other women, apparently.” Everything felt unreal, as if I were stuck in a dream. Steve’s grin spread across his face, but his blue eyes stayed cold and dead.
“Yes, well, she was cheating on him with me anyway. Just another whore, you know. They always get what’s coming to them in the end,” he hissed with hatred oozing from his voice. “It’s too bad, really. I just killed another slut tonight. I was planning on saving you for later. The urge isn’t too bad yet right now, after all. It comes in cycles, you see. It comes in waves…” I saw a glimmer of pale, naked flesh writhing behind Steve. With jerky movements, the Twisted Man came up behind him. I said nothing, just watching with wide-eyed horror and amazement.
“You need help, man,” I whispered. Steve laughed.
“Help? The only help they give people like me is a needle in the arm. You know that. That’s why it’s important to always cover your tracks…” The Twisted Man ran a long, broken finger across Steve’s neck. Steve gave a strangled cry and jumped. He spun around, screaming. I glanced over at my shotgun next to the couch.
I jumped for it as Steve turned back to me, firing his pistol twice. The first bullet soared high above me, raining wood splinters down on my head, but the second ripped into my leg. A cold, burning pain ran like fire up my shin. I screamed in agony and battle fury as I gripped the shotgun, spinning and firing.
Steve’s head exploded as the slug ripped through his brain. His forehead collapsed like a smashed melon as bone splinters and blood sprayed the wall behind him.
The Twisted Man stood there, hunched over, grinning up at me. I felt warm blood gushing from my leg as I stared back at him, breathing hard. I wondered if I was dying.
“You… you weren’t after me at all, were you?” I asked. “You were after… Steve.” But the Twisted Man said nothing. After a long moment, he slinked back into the shadows of the bedroom and disappeared.
***
As night crawled its way toward morning, I thought back to the words the Twisted Man had spoken through the TV, suddenly understanding everything.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death. Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
He hadn’t been trying to hurt me at all. He had been trying to warn me. He had probably tried to warn Will Lenning and his wife, too.
I wrapped my leg in gauze, gritting my teeth. The wound looked puckered and deep, but I could still move my foot, and the bullet had gone clean through the flesh. I poured alcohol on it, screaming in pain as it burned its way through my skin. After rummaging through Steve’s bathroom, I found some prescription painkillers and swallowed a handful of them with a beer. I knew I would need the opiate high to get through the pain of riding into town with a mutilated leg.
As the Sun finally rose, I made my way outside the blood-stained floors of the cabin to my snowmobile. Before I left, I glanced back at that horrid place, the scene of so much torment and death.
In the open doorway, the Twisted Man stood, his back hunched, his rotted lips grinning at me. His hand lifted up into the air with jerky movements and waved.
I waved back as I started the engine and headed into town.
submitted by CIAHerpes to stories [link] [comments]
I had no girlfriend, no wife, no kids. My parents had both died a few years prior and I barely talked to my siblings anymore. I had nothing to tie me down to this place where I felt like I was dying inside a little more each day.
That was when I sold nearly everything I owned, got in my car and drove up to Alaska to try starting anew. I bought a small cabin and a plot of land in the middle of its majestic mountains and dark, enchanting forests. In the winter, the Northern Lights would shine through like the eyes of God, sending out divine trails of light that danced through the sky in cosmic waves.
And while the move did help give me some peace of mind, in the end, the source of all my problems had ultimately followed me thousands of miles into this endless wilderness. It would take me a long time to realize the cause of all this misery was myself.
Because, as a wise man once said, “Wherever I go, there I am.”
***
I lived in that cabin for three months without any major issues other than the constant threat of bears, moose and wolves. I had a rifle and a shotgun for hunting, a small garden in the backyard and a solar panel to generate electricity.
“This is the life,” I said, relaxing on a hammock I had strung across the corner of the cabin while staring at the endless beauty directly outside the window. White-capped mountains loomed like giants in front of thick clusters of evergreens. A virgin covering of fluffy snow made the entire world glisten and sparkle. There wasn’t a house or road in sight.
“No work, no stress, no pollution, no cars honking all the time…” I closed my eyes, breathing in the clean air. I ended up falling asleep for a couple hours, waking up just as the Sun had started setting. Bright orange streaks mixed with the bloody smears of the fading light as it disappeared behind the mountains.
I groggily arose, stumbling over to make a cup of instant coffee. As I sipped it, I wandered around the room, looking for something to pass the time. There were still quite a few random objects left behind by the last owner that I hadn’t gotten rid of yet. I had moved in to find a stocked bookshelf filled with classics by Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein. Bored, I started rifling through the collection, looking for something good to pass the time. As I shuffled past “A Maze of Death” and “Ubik”, something caught my eye.
A black, leather-bound book with no title or author name stood there, its cover faded with time and wear. Curious, I pulled it out and opened it. I saw the cursive scrawled across the pages in a neat, copperplate script and realized it was a diary left behind by the previous owner. The first entry was dated “January 9th, 2015.” This is what it said.
***
“I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not. I went into town to talk to my therapist yesterday and she said I should try writing everything down. She talks to me like it’s all in my head. But I know it’s not.
“When I first moved into the cabin, it seemed like Paradise. I never thought in a million years that something would be slinking around at night. I never thought it would be hiding under my bed, peeking in windows and following me like a shadow.
“Right now, I’m snowed in with a cup of coffee in one hand and my pistol in the other. I can’t sleep anymore. I keep hearing something shuffling around under the bed. Sometimes, I think I even hear ragged breathing, as if a corpse with dirt in its lungs had come back to life.
“I’ve caught glimpses of that thing in the darkness. Whatever it is, its skin is loose, almost falling off the bone. It almost looks like a naked, emaciated man. Its eyes are rotted and dark, its back hunched, its spine twisted and jutting out like tumors. It moves in this slow, jerky way, but I can never seem to catch it. Its body seems broken and out of alignment. Its legs bend the wrong way sometimes.
“By the time I turn on the lights or try to take a video of it, it’s always disappeared. But its fetid odor remains. It lingers in the cabin like a sweet-smelling, spreading infection.
“I don’t know what it wants from me. I want to leave, but with the storm raging outside, I’m stuck here, unable to get all the way back to town. The snow surrounds the cabin in mounds five feet high. I feel like a prisoner caged with a rabid beast, not knowing when it will strike.
“My wife claims she hasn’t seen or heard anything, but she keeps vanishing on me. Last night, she disappeared in the middle of a snowstorm. Where did she go? I asked her in the morning, but she said she was here the whole time. She didn’t remember anything. There’s no way she went into town. There wasn’t time and the trails were impassable that far down.
“Something’s going on here, but I don’t know what it is. I’m truly scared for our lives.”
I slammed the diary shut, not wanting to read anymore. I didn’t want to become infected by some kind of contagious cabin fever. If the last owner had gone insane in the mountains and started hallucinating naked corpses crawling around, I really didn’t want to know.
I shoved the diary back in the bookshelf, going for “A Maze of Death” instead. I tried to forget what I had read in the diary as I flew through the novella. All night, I tried to get the image of the naked, twisting man with rotted eyes out of my head, but I couldn’t.
I eventually fell asleep right before dawn. But, as my eyes were closing, I thought I saw a silhouette in the window- a starved man with excited, black eyes that seemed to be rotting out of his skull. I thought I saw him put his inhumanly long fingers against the glass as he leaned forward. I blinked, sitting up and glancing out into the white, snow-covered wonderland.
There was nothing there.
***
Another hunter occasionally followed the deer trails near my cabin. A frozen lake stood a quarter-mile away, the surface white and covered in thick drifts of snow. I bundled up, deciding to go outside for a hike in the frigid dawn. I strapped on my snowshoes and grabbed my shotgun, as I always did when I went outside. I never knew when a polar bear might be waiting around the next tree, after all.
I opened the door, seeing footprints pressed into the snow all around my house. At first, I thought it was that silhouette I had seen, the nightmarish thing from the diary. But the footprints didn’t go over to my window. They followed the trail twenty feet away, veering off towards the frozen lake at the bottom of the hill. I glanced down in that direction, seeing a black figure plodding slowly forward.
“Steve!” I cried, recognizing my only neighbor in a four-mile radius. He had a cabin about a mile away on his own little plot of land. He jumped, clearly startled by the sudden noise. His black snow pants and heavy fur coat swished together as he spun, raising his rifle high. When he saw me, he immediately lowered it and put a gloved hand up in a friendly greeting.
“Hey Josh! Surprised to see you up this early,” he yelled over the muted wintry landscape. Sounds always seemed different after it snowed, as if all the noise in the world had become faded and dead.
“Yeah, I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping,” I said, slinging my shotgun around my shoulder. “What are you doing anyway?”
“Just a little hunting, you know,” he said, giving me a sly wink. “Animals are always most active around dusk and dawn, it seems. That’s when I always have the best luck, anyway.” He stepped close to me, staring me in the eyes. “You do look like shit. Those bags under your eyes are big enough to carry groceries in.”
“Yeah, trust me, I know… Hey, this might sound a little weird, but did you know the previous owner of this cabin?” I asked. Steve’s wrinkled, old face fell into a scowl. His expression immediately became guarded and distant.
“Sure, sure, we met,” he exclaimed bluntly. He seemed to be searching my face for something, but I didn’t know what. His reaction left me feeling off-balance and nervous.
“Is he still around?” I said. Steve’s scowl deepened.
“Buddy, I don’t know what this is about, but he’s dead. He’s been dead. He died in that cabin, actually.” He pointed a finger at my home accusingly. With those words, my heart seemed to drop into my stomach. Waves of dread flowed through my body like water.
“How… how did he die? Like a heart attack or something?” I asked. Steve’s gaze turned downwards. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Do you know that Alaska has the highest missing persons rate in the entire United States? It’s not even close. In fact, for the population size, we have far more people who go missing and never get found than anywhere else. They even have a name for it: the Alaska Triangle,” Steve said. “And we’re square in the middle of it.” I stared blankly at him, wondering where he was going with this. It seemed like a way to avoid answering my question.
“No, I didn’t know that…” I responded. Steve nodded, raising his head again. He heaved a deep sigh.
“Look, the thing with the last owner and his wife… it’s somewhat disturbing. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you, but it’s certainly not going to help your peace of mind. And it definitely isn’t going to help you get some sleep.”
“I want to know,” I insisted instantly. The wind started to whip past us. Flakes of ice and snow flew sideways in the sudden currents.
“Let’s go back to your cabin then,” Steve said, pulling his heavy fur-lined hood off and shaking out his long, black hair behind him. “I could use a bit of whiskey to warm up.”
***
We sat down with a bottle of Johnny Walker and two shot glasses. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but Steve certainly was. He chugged three shots in the span of a minute. I sipped at mine, drinking half and putting it back down on the coffee table with a thunk. Steve grunted, hissing through his open mouth for a moment.
“Ugh, that’s the good stuff,” he said, slamming his chest as the burning liquor worked its way down. Steve looked up at me with a new sparkle in his eyes. “Huh, so you want to know about what happened to Will Lenning. Well, I’ll tell you that no one really knows the whole story. I used to see him occasionally, come down and have a drink and talk. We all know each other around here, obviously.” I nodded, motioning him on. “He seemed like a normal, upstanding guy. He kinda reminded me of you, actually. A young guy trying to escape the hustle and bustle of the city life, the cancer of the American Dream.
“Well, he was here for maybe a couple months, I don’t know. Everything seemed fine. We used to go skeet shooting occasionally, have a beer, you know. We’d get together with a couple other hunters who live closer to town and sometimes play some poker. I never saw anything odd about Will. I never could have predicted what happened to him.” He heaved a long sigh at this, looking out the window at the sharp mountains with an expression of nostalgia.
“Well, what happened to him?” I asked, encouraging him to go on.
“He started talking about seeing someone peering in through his window at night. He talked about hearing sounds from under his bed while he was laying there in the dark- sounds like diseased breathing and shuffling. He started keeping all the lights on in his cabin twenty-four hours a day.” Steve leaned close to me. A glimmer of fear rippled across his pale, wrinkled face. “He started to lose his mind. Started digging holes all over the place, looking for something. Even in the middle of snowstorms, I would occasionally see him outside, digging. It seemed like he never slept anymore. It was classic cabin fever if I ever saw it.
“It was only a few weeks later that I came over here, concerned. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, which was fairly unusual. I found the door hanging wide open. Propped up in a chair in the exact spot where you now sit, Will lay with a blast hole showing clear through his skull, a shotgun laying at his feet.
“And next to him, I found a blood-stained diary opened to the middle page. The last entry was stained with blood spatter, but still visible. I remember leaning down and reading it. It was only a few sentences long.” I glanced over at the bookshelf with the same diary, saying nothing.
“It said something like, ‘I see now what’s going on. The Twisted Man is leading me to the truth. Today, I will finally find it.’”
“And that was his suicide note?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest. He nodded.
“Yeah. I went into town and got some rangers to come check it out. Eventually, they got cops and CSI there. They took all the stuff as evidence, including the diary,” he said. “Good riddance, I say. Reading something like that is never beneficial. Sometimes delusions spread like a virus, you know what I mean?” I did, but I said nothing. I glanced back at the diary, its black leather cover gleaming like a crouching snake.
And I wondered- if the police took the diary as evidence, how did it get back here?
***
“You said he had a wife living here with him, too?” I asked.
“Yeah… she went missing around the same time,” he said. “Pretty bizarre. The cops thought maybe she just moved away, but…” He shook his head grimly. “As far as I know, she was never seen again. It was like she had evaporated into thin air.”
After Steve left, I walked stiffly over to the bookshelf, taking down the diary. I flipped open through the pages. In the middle, I found the last entry. Spatters of old, darkened blood were scattered over the page like raindrops. I found the suicide note and read the date.
“January 27th, 2015,” it read. Will Lenning had not lived long after he started seeing the Twisted Man. I wondered if my fate would be the same.
The Sun had started to set outside as I sat with the diary at the small circular kitchen table, eating some stewed venison and rice as I read through the entries. At the end, Will Lenning said the Twisted Man had been trying to guide him somewhere, that, in fact, the Twisted Man had been trying to protect him from some great evil, rather than being the source of it.
I scoffed, feeling a flash of anger at his stupidity. His naivety obviously led to his death. But then a flash of insight struck me like lightning.
What if I was committing the same kind of stupidity? Perhaps I should just grab my gun and valuables and leave. I could take off on the snowmobile and be in town within a couple hours.
But, in my heart, I knew I would not. Something about the mystery of all this beckoned me to stay. Like a siren leading sailors to destruction, my curiosity called out to me, and I knew I would not be leaving that night. I needed answers.
And, sadly, I would find them.
***
I had fallen asleep with an empty bottle of beer in my hand. I sat in front of the TV, which only got satellite reception. There were, of course, no cable or phone lines threading their way through the forest. All of my power came from stored solar energy. Since I rarely watched TV and really only used it to cook or heat up water for bathing, the energy produced was sufficient even in winter. Tonight, though, I needed its sound, its mindless flashing of light and colors and canned laughter. It seemed to drive away the creeping, suffocating presence like a candle.
I woke suddenly. The TV flashed with static. The repetitive hissing of the white noise spit from the speakers like thousands of snakes. I glanced up at the clock. 3:33 AM. I looked around the dark cabin, confused for a long moment. I didn’t understand what had woken me so abruptly. The satellite had never gone out before, either, even with the howling winds and freezing hail of the Alaskan winter.
The TV started flickering as if the static were rising upwards. Black lines traced their way horizontally across the screen. The hissing deepened into a gurgle, and for a second, I thought I heard faint words behind the white noise. I thought I heard breathing, slow and diseased, like the death gasp of a drowning man.
A black line rose across the TV and an image came into view. The cabin was suddenly plunged into silence, except for the shrieking, wintry wind outside. I leaned close to the screen, confused at what I was looking at. It looked like a live camera feed of a room. As I took in the details, I realized it was my cabin. I saw myself in the chair, leaning close to the screen. I raised my hand, and the miniature version of me on the screen did likewise. Ice water seemed to drip down my spine as waves of dread coursed through my body.
“What the fuck is this?” I whispered, looking back to where the camera should be. It was just a coarse wooden ceiling in that corner. I turned back to the screen and nearly screamed.
The TV showed a pale, naked man crouching directly behind my chair now. With jerky movements, he rose, his broken spine twisting and shivering. A hissing voice rang out from the speakers. It spoke as if it had dirt and writhing maggots in its throat.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death,” it gurgled. “Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
Long, broken fingers with blackened nails reached out to touch my shoulders. I jumped out of the chair, stumbling back as I spun around in terror. My back smashed into the TV, and it fell to the floor with a shattering of glass and an explosion of light.
In those few moments before the darkness descended on me like a blanket, I thought I glimpsed a pale, sunken face with rotted, blackened eyes peeking out from behind the chair.
***
I turned on every light in the cabin, but there was no sign of the Twisted Man now. I knew I had to get out of there, though. I thought about the warning that the voice had spoken. If the creature wanted to attack me, then why hadn’t it just killed me while I was sleeping? None of it made sense. Who was watching me? The Twisted Man? And if he was, why warn me? Perhaps it was psychological warfare, I thought to myself. Perhaps the Twisted Man simply liked to play with his food before he ate it.
Thoughts raced through my head at a thousand miles an hour as I threw on snow pants and a couple heavy sweaters and coats. I covered up my entire body as much as I could to try to prevent frostbite. I had made up my mind to flee. There was no snowstorm tonight, though the entire landscape was blanketed in it and I knew the wind chill would be like an ice blade whipping against my skin. It was extremely dangerous to travel in the middle of the night like this in temperatures that might reach negative thirty degrees. Steve had been right, after all- Alaska had the highest missing persons rate of any state, and many of them were never found, their bodies likely frozen solid in the deep snow dozens of miles from the nearest town.
I grabbed my shotgun, jumped on my snowmobile and started heading to Steve’s cabin. I hoped I could wait there until the sunrise and then figure out what to do next.
But fate would take the decision out of my hands.
***
I felt like there were eyes watching me as I drove along the narrow, winding deer trail. The boughs of the evergreens reached into the path like greedy hands, grabbing at my coat and legs. More than a couple times, I thought I saw a pale, naked figure standing in the snow, but it had always gone when I turned to look.
I gave a sigh of relief when Steve’s place appeared in the distance. I could see the lights twinkling through the small windows of his log cabin. I pulled up next to his door, looking down. I saw two pairs of footprints there, one much smaller than the other. I found it odd, but shrugged it off. The snowmobile cut out with a sucking gurgle.
I knocked on the door hard a few times. Steve appeared after a few moments, groggy and half-dressed. He blinked slowly as he looked me up and down. His wrinkled face fell into a frown.
“Steve, I need a favor,” I said quickly. “Something weird is happening in my cabin. Can I stay here until morning, until maybe I can go to town or something? I can’t stay at my place tonight. I just can’t.” He nodded, yawning and motioning me in.
“You can sleep on the couch, I guess,” Steve said. “Put that shotgun somewhere safe, though, boy.” He had a partitioned bedroom in his cabin. It was significantly larger than my little one-room cabin, though it was basically still just a joint kitchen-living room, a small bedroom and a bathroom. He pointed to a well-worn couch in the corner and gave me an apathetic wave as he stumbled back into his bedroom, slamming the door.
I couldn’t sleep, though. I tiptoed around the room, looking at Steve’s bookshelf. He had a rather strange taste in books- lots of Anne Rule and true crime there. I saw dozens of books about Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Richard Chase, Herbert Mullin, Jeffrey Dahmer and Richard Ramirez among the collection. At the end, a large, black binder stood, unlabeled and worn-looking. It reminded me of the look of that leather-bound diary for a second, and my heart dropped. But logically, I knew this was just a coincidence. Yet, still, I pulled out the binder, my curiosity piqued.
What I found inside filled me with dread and horror.
Countless news clippings covered the length of it. The first clipping was from nearly twenty years earlier, about a woman who went missing in the Alaskan forest while hiking. A later one confirmed that her body was never found, and that her family was still hoping that she might turn up alive somewhere. A reward was offered for any information, it said.
And every page after that was more of the same: missing woman, murdered prostitute, missing man, no leads. I kept flipping through until I found clippings about Will Lenning’s suicide and the sudden disappearance of his wife. On the article about the suicide, Steve had used red marker to scrawl, “HA HA!” next to it.
I heard the click of a gun being cocked from behind me. I froze as Steve’s voice traveled across the room like a whisper.
“How do you like my work, friend?” he asked, his tone jovial and mocking.
***
I still held the binder of horrors tightly in my hands as I stared open-mouthed at this man I thought I knew.
“It’s you? What, you killed Will Lenning and his wife? And a lot of other women, apparently.” Everything felt unreal, as if I were stuck in a dream. Steve’s grin spread across his face, but his blue eyes stayed cold and dead.
“Yes, well, she was cheating on him with me anyway. Just another whore, you know. They always get what’s coming to them in the end,” he hissed with hatred oozing from his voice. “It’s too bad, really. I just killed another slut tonight. I was planning on saving you for later. The urge isn’t too bad yet right now, after all. It comes in cycles, you see. It comes in waves…” I saw a glimmer of pale, naked flesh writhing behind Steve. With jerky movements, the Twisted Man came up behind him. I said nothing, just watching with wide-eyed horror and amazement.
“You need help, man,” I whispered. Steve laughed.
“Help? The only help they give people like me is a needle in the arm. You know that. That’s why it’s important to always cover your tracks…” The Twisted Man ran a long, broken finger across Steve’s neck. Steve gave a strangled cry and jumped. He spun around, screaming. I glanced over at my shotgun next to the couch.
I jumped for it as Steve turned back to me, firing his pistol twice. The first bullet soared high above me, raining wood splinters down on my head, but the second ripped into my leg. A cold, burning pain ran like fire up my shin. I screamed in agony and battle fury as I gripped the shotgun, spinning and firing.
Steve’s head exploded as the slug ripped through his brain. His forehead collapsed like a smashed melon as bone splinters and blood sprayed the wall behind him.
The Twisted Man stood there, hunched over, grinning up at me. I felt warm blood gushing from my leg as I stared back at him, breathing hard. I wondered if I was dying.
“You… you weren’t after me at all, were you?” I asked. “You were after… Steve.” But the Twisted Man said nothing. After a long moment, he slinked back into the shadows of the bedroom and disappeared.
***
As night crawled its way toward morning, I thought back to the words the Twisted Man had spoken through the TV, suddenly understanding everything.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death. Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
He hadn’t been trying to hurt me at all. He had been trying to warn me. He had probably tried to warn Will Lenning and his wife, too.
I wrapped my leg in gauze, gritting my teeth. The wound looked puckered and deep, but I could still move my foot, and the bullet had gone clean through the flesh. I poured alcohol on it, screaming in pain as it burned its way through my skin. After rummaging through Steve’s bathroom, I found some prescription painkillers and swallowed a handful of them with a beer. I knew I would need the opiate high to get through the pain of riding into town with a mutilated leg.
As the Sun finally rose, I made my way outside the blood-stained floors of the cabin to my snowmobile. Before I left, I glanced back at that horrid place, the scene of so much torment and death.
In the open doorway, the Twisted Man stood, his back hunched, his rotted lips grinning at me. His hand lifted up into the air with jerky movements and waved.
I waved back as I started the engine and headed into town.
2024.06.02 01:06 CIAHerpes I live alone in Alaska. The Twisted Man has been peeking in through my windows.
A few years ago, I decided I needed a major life change. Everything seemed to be going downhill- my finances, my mental health, my life. I would go weeks without sleeping sometimes as the heavy traffic passed through the city streets down below. Every time I went outside, I saw more homeless people, more needles and crack pipes littering the ground, more muggings and assaults and overdoses and deaths. The city had become a wasteland, and I knew it was time to leave.
I had no girlfriend, no wife, no kids. My parents had both died a few years prior and I barely talked to my siblings anymore. I had nothing to tie me down to this place where I felt like I was dying inside a little more each day.
That was when I sold nearly everything I owned, got in my car and drove up to Alaska to try starting anew. I bought a small cabin and a plot of land in the middle of its majestic mountains and dark, enchanting forests. In the winter, the Northern Lights would shine through like the eyes of God, sending out divine trails of light that danced through the sky in cosmic waves.
And while the move did help give me some peace of mind, in the end, the source of all my problems had ultimately followed me thousands of miles into this endless wilderness. It would take me a long time to realize the cause of all this misery was myself.
Because, as a wise man once said, “Wherever I go, there I am.”
***
I lived in that cabin for three months without any major issues other than the constant threat of bears, moose and wolves. I had a rifle and a shotgun for hunting, a small garden in the backyard and a solar panel to generate electricity.
“This is the life,” I said, relaxing on a hammock I had strung across the corner of the cabin while staring at the endless beauty directly outside the window. White-capped mountains loomed like giants in front of thick clusters of evergreens. A virgin covering of fluffy snow made the entire world glisten and sparkle. There wasn’t a house or road in sight.
“No work, no stress, no pollution, no cars honking all the time…” I closed my eyes, breathing in the clean air. I ended up falling asleep for a couple hours, waking up just as the Sun had started setting. Bright orange streaks mixed with the bloody smears of the fading light as it disappeared behind the mountains.
I groggily arose, stumbling over to make a cup of instant coffee. As I sipped it, I wandered around the room, looking for something to pass the time. There were still quite a few random objects left behind by the last owner that I hadn’t gotten rid of yet. I had moved in to find a stocked bookshelf filled with classics by Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein. Bored, I started rifling through the collection, looking for something good to pass the time. As I shuffled past “A Maze of Death” and “Ubik”, something caught my eye.
A black, leather-bound book with no title or author name stood there, its cover faded with time and wear. Curious, I pulled it out and opened it. I saw the cursive scrawled across the pages in a neat, copperplate script and realized it was a diary left behind by the previous owner. The first entry was dated “January 9th, 2015.” This is what it said.
***
“I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not. I went into town to talk to my therapist yesterday and she said I should try writing everything down. She talks to me like it’s all in my head. But I know it’s not.
“When I first moved into the cabin, it seemed like Paradise. I never thought in a million years that something would be slinking around at night. I never thought it would be hiding under my bed, peeking in windows and following me like a shadow.
“Right now, I’m snowed in with a cup of coffee in one hand and my pistol in the other. I can’t sleep anymore. I keep hearing something shuffling around under the bed. Sometimes, I think I even hear ragged breathing, as if a corpse with dirt in its lungs had come back to life.
“I’ve caught glimpses of that thing in the darkness. Whatever it is, its skin is loose, almost falling off the bone. It almost looks like a naked, emaciated man. Its eyes are rotted and dark, its back hunched, its spine twisted and jutting out like tumors. It moves in this slow, jerky way, but I can never seem to catch it. Its body seems broken and out of alignment. Its legs bend the wrong way sometimes.
“By the time I turn on the lights or try to take a video of it, it’s always disappeared. But its fetid odor remains. It lingers in the cabin like a sweet-smelling, spreading infection.
“I don’t know what it wants from me. I want to leave, but with the storm raging outside, I’m stuck here, unable to get all the way back to town. The snow surrounds the cabin in mounds five feet high. I feel like a prisoner caged with a rabid beast, not knowing when it will strike.
“My wife claims she hasn’t seen or heard anything, but she keeps vanishing on me. Last night, she disappeared in the middle of a snowstorm. Where did she go? I asked her in the morning, but she said she was here the whole time. She didn’t remember anything. There’s no way she went into town. There wasn’t time and the trails were impassable that far down.
“Something’s going on here, but I don’t know what it is. I’m truly scared for our lives.”
I slammed the diary shut, not wanting to read anymore. I didn’t want to become infected by some kind of contagious cabin fever. If the last owner had gone insane in the mountains and started hallucinating naked corpses crawling around, I really didn’t want to know.
I shoved the diary back in the bookshelf, going for “A Maze of Death” instead. I tried to forget what I had read in the diary as I flew through the novella. All night, I tried to get the image of the naked, twisting man with rotted eyes out of my head, but I couldn’t.
I eventually fell asleep right before dawn. But, as my eyes were closing, I thought I saw a silhouette in the window- a starved man with excited, black eyes that seemed to be rotting out of his skull. I thought I saw him put his inhumanly long fingers against the glass as he leaned forward. I blinked, sitting up and glancing out into the white, snow-covered wonderland.
There was nothing there.
***
Another hunter occasionally followed the deer trails near my cabin. A frozen lake stood a quarter-mile away, the surface white and covered in thick drifts of snow. I bundled up, deciding to go outside for a hike in the frigid dawn. I strapped on my snowshoes and grabbed my shotgun, as I always did when I went outside. I never knew when a polar bear might be waiting around the next tree, after all.
I opened the door, seeing footprints pressed into the snow all around my house. At first, I thought it was that silhouette I had seen, the nightmarish thing from the diary. But the footprints didn’t go over to my window. They followed the trail twenty feet away, veering off towards the frozen lake at the bottom of the hill. I glanced down in that direction, seeing a black figure plodding slowly forward.
“Steve!” I cried, recognizing my only neighbor in a four-mile radius. He had a cabin about a mile away on his own little plot of land. He jumped, clearly startled by the sudden noise. His black snow pants and heavy fur coat swished together as he spun, raising his rifle high. When he saw me, he immediately lowered it and put a gloved hand up in a friendly greeting.
“Hey Josh! Surprised to see you up this early,” he yelled over the muted wintry landscape. Sounds always seemed different after it snowed, as if all the noise in the world had become faded and dead.
“Yeah, I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping,” I said, slinging my shotgun around my shoulder. “What are you doing anyway?”
“Just a little hunting, you know,” he said, giving me a sly wink. “Animals are always most active around dusk and dawn, it seems. That’s when I always have the best luck, anyway.” He stepped close to me, staring me in the eyes. “You do look like shit. Those bags under your eyes are big enough to carry groceries in.”
“Yeah, trust me, I know… Hey, this might sound a little weird, but did you know the previous owner of this cabin?” I asked. Steve’s wrinkled, old face fell into a scowl. His expression immediately became guarded and distant.
“Sure, sure, we met,” he exclaimed bluntly. He seemed to be searching my face for something, but I didn’t know what. His reaction left me feeling off-balance and nervous.
“Is he still around?” I said. Steve’s scowl deepened.
“Buddy, I don’t know what this is about, but he’s dead. He’s been dead. He died in that cabin, actually.” He pointed a finger at my home accusingly. With those words, my heart seemed to drop into my stomach. Waves of dread flowed through my body like water.
“How… how did he die? Like a heart attack or something?” I asked. Steve’s gaze turned downwards. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Do you know that Alaska has the highest missing persons rate in the entire United States? It’s not even close. In fact, for the population size, we have far more people who go missing and never get found than anywhere else. They even have a name for it: the Alaska Triangle,” Steve said. “And we’re square in the middle of it.” I stared blankly at him, wondering where he was going with this. It seemed like a way to avoid answering my question.
“No, I didn’t know that…” I responded. Steve nodded, raising his head again. He heaved a deep sigh.
“Look, the thing with the last owner and his wife… it’s somewhat disturbing. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you, but it’s certainly not going to help your peace of mind. And it definitely isn’t going to help you get some sleep.”
“I want to know,” I insisted instantly. The wind started to whip past us. Flakes of ice and snow flew sideways in the sudden currents.
“Let’s go back to your cabin then,” Steve said, pulling his heavy fur-lined hood off and shaking out his long, black hair behind him. “I could use a bit of whiskey to warm up.”
***
We sat down with a bottle of Johnny Walker and two shot glasses. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but Steve certainly was. He chugged three shots in the span of a minute. I sipped at mine, drinking half and putting it back down on the coffee table with a thunk. Steve grunted, hissing through his open mouth for a moment.
“Ugh, that’s the good stuff,” he said, slamming his chest as the burning liquor worked its way down. Steve looked up at me with a new sparkle in his eyes. “Huh, so you want to know about what happened to Will Lenning. Well, I’ll tell you that no one really knows the whole story. I used to see him occasionally, come down and have a drink and talk. We all know each other around here, obviously.” I nodded, motioning him on. “He seemed like a normal, upstanding guy. He kinda reminded me of you, actually. A young guy trying to escape the hustle and bustle of the city life, the cancer of the American Dream.
“Well, he was here for maybe a couple months, I don’t know. Everything seemed fine. We used to go skeet shooting occasionally, have a beer, you know. We’d get together with a couple other hunters who live closer to town and sometimes play some poker. I never saw anything odd about Will. I never could have predicted what happened to him.” He heaved a long sigh at this, looking out the window at the sharp mountains with an expression of nostalgia.
“Well, what happened to him?” I asked, encouraging him to go on.
“He started talking about seeing someone peering in through his window at night. He talked about hearing sounds from under his bed while he was laying there in the dark- sounds like diseased breathing and shuffling. He started keeping all the lights on in his cabin twenty-four hours a day.” Steve leaned close to me. A glimmer of fear rippled across his pale, wrinkled face. “He started to lose his mind. Started digging holes all over the place, looking for something. Even in the middle of snowstorms, I would occasionally see him outside, digging. It seemed like he never slept anymore. It was classic cabin fever if I ever saw it.
“It was only a few weeks later that I came over here, concerned. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, which was fairly unusual. I found the door hanging wide open. Propped up in a chair in the exact spot where you now sit, Will lay with a blast hole showing clear through his skull, a shotgun laying at his feet.
“And next to him, I found a blood-stained diary opened to the middle page. The last entry was stained with blood spatter, but still visible. I remember leaning down and reading it. It was only a few sentences long.” I glanced over at the bookshelf with the same diary, saying nothing.
“It said something like, ‘I see now what’s going on. The Twisted Man is leading me to the truth. Today, I will finally find it.’”
“And that was his suicide note?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest. He nodded.
“Yeah. I went into town and got some rangers to come check it out. Eventually, they got cops and CSI there. They took all the stuff as evidence, including the diary,” he said. “Good riddance, I say. Reading something like that is never beneficial. Sometimes delusions spread like a virus, you know what I mean?” I did, but I said nothing. I glanced back at the diary, its black leather cover gleaming like a crouching snake.
And I wondered- if the police took the diary as evidence, how did it get back here?
***
“You said he had a wife living here with him, too?” I asked.
“Yeah… she went missing around the same time,” he said. “Pretty bizarre. The cops thought maybe she just moved away, but…” He shook his head grimly. “As far as I know, she was never seen again. It was like she had evaporated into thin air.”
After Steve left, I walked stiffly over to the bookshelf, taking down the diary. I flipped open through the pages. In the middle, I found the last entry. Spatters of old, darkened blood were scattered over the page like raindrops. I found the suicide note and read the date.
“January 27th, 2015,” it read. Will Lenning had not lived long after he started seeing the Twisted Man. I wondered if my fate would be the same.
The Sun had started to set outside as I sat with the diary at the small circular kitchen table, eating some stewed venison and rice as I read through the entries. At the end, Will Lenning said the Twisted Man had been trying to guide him somewhere, that, in fact, the Twisted Man had been trying to protect him from some great evil, rather than being the source of it.
I scoffed, feeling a flash of anger at his stupidity. His naivety obviously led to his death. But then a flash of insight struck me like lightning.
What if I was committing the same kind of stupidity? Perhaps I should just grab my gun and valuables and leave. I could take off on the snowmobile and be in town within a couple hours.
But, in my heart, I knew I would not. Something about the mystery of all this beckoned me to stay. Like a siren leading sailors to destruction, my curiosity called out to me, and I knew I would not be leaving that night. I needed answers.
And, sadly, I would find them.
***
I had fallen asleep with an empty bottle of beer in my hand. I sat in front of the TV, which only got satellite reception. There were, of course, no cable or phone lines threading their way through the forest. All of my power came from stored solar energy. Since I rarely watched TV and really only used it to cook or heat up water for bathing, the energy produced was sufficient even in winter. Tonight, though, I needed its sound, its mindless flashing of light and colors and canned laughter. It seemed to drive away the creeping, suffocating presence like a candle.
I woke suddenly. The TV flashed with static. The repetitive hissing of the white noise spit from the speakers like thousands of snakes. I glanced up at the clock. 3:33 AM. I looked around the dark cabin, confused for a long moment. I didn’t understand what had woken me so abruptly. The satellite had never gone out before, either, even with the howling winds and freezing hail of the Alaskan winter.
The TV started flickering as if the static were rising upwards. Black lines traced their way horizontally across the screen. The hissing deepened into a gurgle, and for a second, I thought I heard faint words behind the white noise. I thought I heard breathing, slow and diseased, like the death gasp of a drowning man.
A black line rose across the TV and an image came into view. The cabin was suddenly plunged into silence, except for the shrieking, wintry wind outside. I leaned close to the screen, confused at what I was looking at. It looked like a live camera feed of a room. As I took in the details, I realized it was my cabin. I saw myself in the chair, leaning close to the screen. I raised my hand, and the miniature version of me on the screen did likewise. Ice water seemed to drip down my spine as waves of dread coursed through my body.
“What the fuck is this?” I whispered, looking back to where the camera should be. It was just a coarse wooden ceiling in that corner. I turned back to the screen and nearly screamed.
The TV showed a pale, naked man crouching directly behind my chair now. With jerky movements, he rose, his broken spine twisting and shivering. A hissing voice rang out from the speakers. It spoke as if it had dirt and writhing maggots in its throat.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death,” it gurgled. “Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
Long, broken fingers with blackened nails reached out to touch my shoulders. I jumped out of the chair, stumbling back as I spun around in terror. My back smashed into the TV, and it fell to the floor with a shattering of glass and an explosion of light.
In those few moments before the darkness descended on me like a blanket, I thought I glimpsed a pale, sunken face with rotted, blackened eyes peeking out from behind the chair.
***
I turned on every light in the cabin, but there was no sign of the Twisted Man now. I knew I had to get out of there, though. I thought about the warning that the voice had spoken. If the creature wanted to attack me, then why hadn’t it just killed me while I was sleeping? None of it made sense. Who was watching me? The Twisted Man? And if he was, why warn me? Perhaps it was psychological warfare, I thought to myself. Perhaps the Twisted Man simply liked to play with his food before he ate it.
Thoughts raced through my head at a thousand miles an hour as I threw on snow pants and a couple heavy sweaters and coats. I covered up my entire body as much as I could to try to prevent frostbite. I had made up my mind to flee. There was no snowstorm tonight, though the entire landscape was blanketed in it and I knew the wind chill would be like an ice blade whipping against my skin. It was extremely dangerous to travel in the middle of the night like this in temperatures that might reach negative thirty degrees. Steve had been right, after all- Alaska had the highest missing persons rate of any state, and many of them were never found, their bodies likely frozen solid in the deep snow dozens of miles from the nearest town.
I grabbed my shotgun, jumped on my snowmobile and started heading to Steve’s cabin. I hoped I could wait there until the sunrise and then figure out what to do next.
But fate would take the decision out of my hands.
***
I felt like there were eyes watching me as I drove along the narrow, winding deer trail. The boughs of the evergreens reached into the path like greedy hands, grabbing at my coat and legs. More than a couple times, I thought I saw a pale, naked figure standing in the snow, but it had always gone when I turned to look.
I gave a sigh of relief when Steve’s place appeared in the distance. I could see the lights twinkling through the small windows of his log cabin. I pulled up next to his door, looking down. I saw two pairs of footprints there, one much smaller than the other. I found it odd, but shrugged it off. The snowmobile cut out with a sucking gurgle.
I knocked on the door hard a few times. Steve appeared after a few moments, groggy and half-dressed. He blinked slowly as he looked me up and down. His wrinkled face fell into a frown.
“Steve, I need a favor,” I said quickly. “Something weird is happening in my cabin. Can I stay here until morning, until maybe I can go to town or something? I can’t stay at my place tonight. I just can’t.” He nodded, yawning and motioning me in.
“You can sleep on the couch, I guess,” Steve said. “Put that shotgun somewhere safe, though, boy.” He had a partitioned bedroom in his cabin. It was significantly larger than my little one-room cabin, though it was basically still just a joint kitchen-living room, a small bedroom and a bathroom. He pointed to a well-worn couch in the corner and gave me an apathetic wave as he stumbled back into his bedroom, slamming the door.
I couldn’t sleep, though. I tiptoed around the room, looking at Steve’s bookshelf. He had a rather strange taste in books- lots of Anne Rule and true crime there. I saw dozens of books about Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Richard Chase, Herbert Mullin, Jeffrey Dahmer and Richard Ramirez among the collection. At the end, a large, black binder stood, unlabeled and worn-looking. It reminded me of the look of that leather-bound diary for a second, and my heart dropped. But logically, I knew this was just a coincidence. Yet, still, I pulled out the binder, my curiosity piqued.
What I found inside filled me with dread and horror.
Countless news clippings covered the length of it. The first clipping was from nearly twenty years earlier, about a woman who went missing in the Alaskan forest while hiking. A later one confirmed that her body was never found, and that her family was still hoping that she might turn up alive somewhere. A reward was offered for any information, it said.
And every page after that was more of the same: missing woman, murdered prostitute, missing man, no leads. I kept flipping through until I found clippings about Will Lenning’s suicide and the sudden disappearance of his wife. On the article about the suicide, Steve had used red marker to scrawl, “HA HA!” next to it.
I heard the click of a gun being cocked from behind me. I froze as Steve’s voice traveled across the room like a whisper.
“How do you like my work, friend?” he asked, his tone jovial and mocking.
***
I still held the binder of horrors tightly in my hands as I stared open-mouthed at this man I thought I knew.
“It’s you? What, you killed Will Lenning and his wife? And a lot of other women, apparently.” Everything felt unreal, as if I were stuck in a dream. Steve’s grin spread across his face, but his blue eyes stayed cold and dead.
“Yes, well, she was cheating on him with me anyway. Just another whore, you know. They always get what’s coming to them in the end,” he hissed with hatred oozing from his voice. “It’s too bad, really. I just killed another slut tonight. I was planning on saving you for later. The urge isn’t too bad yet right now, after all. It comes in cycles, you see. It comes in waves…” I saw a glimmer of pale, naked flesh writhing behind Steve. With jerky movements, the Twisted Man came up behind him. I said nothing, just watching with wide-eyed horror and amazement.
“You need help, man,” I whispered. Steve laughed.
“Help? The only help they give people like me is a needle in the arm. You know that. That’s why it’s important to always cover your tracks…” The Twisted Man ran a long, broken finger across Steve’s neck. Steve gave a strangled cry and jumped. He spun around, screaming. I glanced over at my shotgun next to the couch.
I jumped for it as Steve turned back to me, firing his pistol twice. The first bullet soared high above me, raining wood splinters down on my head, but the second ripped into my leg. A cold, burning pain ran like fire up my shin. I screamed in agony and battle fury as I gripped the shotgun, spinning and firing.
Steve’s head exploded as the slug ripped through his brain. His forehead collapsed like a smashed melon as bone splinters and blood sprayed the wall behind him.
The Twisted Man stood there, hunched over, grinning up at me. I felt warm blood gushing from my leg as I stared back at him, breathing hard. I wondered if I was dying.
“You… you weren’t after me at all, were you?” I asked. “You were after… Steve.” But the Twisted Man said nothing. After a long moment, he slinked back into the shadows of the bedroom and disappeared.
***
As night crawled its way toward morning, I thought back to the words the Twisted Man had spoken through the TV, suddenly understanding everything.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death. Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
He hadn’t been trying to hurt me at all. He had been trying to warn me. He had probably tried to warn Will Lenning and his wife, too.
I wrapped my leg in gauze, gritting my teeth. The wound looked puckered and deep, but I could still move my foot, and the bullet had gone clean through the flesh. I poured alcohol on it, screaming in pain as it burned its way through my skin. After rummaging through Steve’s bathroom, I found some prescription painkillers and swallowed a handful of them with a beer. I knew I would need the opiate high to get through the pain of riding into town with a mutilated leg.
As the Sun finally rose, I made my way outside the blood-stained floors of the cabin to my snowmobile. Before I left, I glanced back at that horrid place, the scene of so much torment and death.
In the open doorway, the Twisted Man stood, his back hunched, his rotted lips grinning at me. His hand lifted up into the air with jerky movements and waved.
I waved back as I started the engine and headed into town.
submitted by CIAHerpes to horrorstories [link] [comments]
I had no girlfriend, no wife, no kids. My parents had both died a few years prior and I barely talked to my siblings anymore. I had nothing to tie me down to this place where I felt like I was dying inside a little more each day.
That was when I sold nearly everything I owned, got in my car and drove up to Alaska to try starting anew. I bought a small cabin and a plot of land in the middle of its majestic mountains and dark, enchanting forests. In the winter, the Northern Lights would shine through like the eyes of God, sending out divine trails of light that danced through the sky in cosmic waves.
And while the move did help give me some peace of mind, in the end, the source of all my problems had ultimately followed me thousands of miles into this endless wilderness. It would take me a long time to realize the cause of all this misery was myself.
Because, as a wise man once said, “Wherever I go, there I am.”
***
I lived in that cabin for three months without any major issues other than the constant threat of bears, moose and wolves. I had a rifle and a shotgun for hunting, a small garden in the backyard and a solar panel to generate electricity.
“This is the life,” I said, relaxing on a hammock I had strung across the corner of the cabin while staring at the endless beauty directly outside the window. White-capped mountains loomed like giants in front of thick clusters of evergreens. A virgin covering of fluffy snow made the entire world glisten and sparkle. There wasn’t a house or road in sight.
“No work, no stress, no pollution, no cars honking all the time…” I closed my eyes, breathing in the clean air. I ended up falling asleep for a couple hours, waking up just as the Sun had started setting. Bright orange streaks mixed with the bloody smears of the fading light as it disappeared behind the mountains.
I groggily arose, stumbling over to make a cup of instant coffee. As I sipped it, I wandered around the room, looking for something to pass the time. There were still quite a few random objects left behind by the last owner that I hadn’t gotten rid of yet. I had moved in to find a stocked bookshelf filled with classics by Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein. Bored, I started rifling through the collection, looking for something good to pass the time. As I shuffled past “A Maze of Death” and “Ubik”, something caught my eye.
A black, leather-bound book with no title or author name stood there, its cover faded with time and wear. Curious, I pulled it out and opened it. I saw the cursive scrawled across the pages in a neat, copperplate script and realized it was a diary left behind by the previous owner. The first entry was dated “January 9th, 2015.” This is what it said.
***
“I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not. I went into town to talk to my therapist yesterday and she said I should try writing everything down. She talks to me like it’s all in my head. But I know it’s not.
“When I first moved into the cabin, it seemed like Paradise. I never thought in a million years that something would be slinking around at night. I never thought it would be hiding under my bed, peeking in windows and following me like a shadow.
“Right now, I’m snowed in with a cup of coffee in one hand and my pistol in the other. I can’t sleep anymore. I keep hearing something shuffling around under the bed. Sometimes, I think I even hear ragged breathing, as if a corpse with dirt in its lungs had come back to life.
“I’ve caught glimpses of that thing in the darkness. Whatever it is, its skin is loose, almost falling off the bone. It almost looks like a naked, emaciated man. Its eyes are rotted and dark, its back hunched, its spine twisted and jutting out like tumors. It moves in this slow, jerky way, but I can never seem to catch it. Its body seems broken and out of alignment. Its legs bend the wrong way sometimes.
“By the time I turn on the lights or try to take a video of it, it’s always disappeared. But its fetid odor remains. It lingers in the cabin like a sweet-smelling, spreading infection.
“I don’t know what it wants from me. I want to leave, but with the storm raging outside, I’m stuck here, unable to get all the way back to town. The snow surrounds the cabin in mounds five feet high. I feel like a prisoner caged with a rabid beast, not knowing when it will strike.
“My wife claims she hasn’t seen or heard anything, but she keeps vanishing on me. Last night, she disappeared in the middle of a snowstorm. Where did she go? I asked her in the morning, but she said she was here the whole time. She didn’t remember anything. There’s no way she went into town. There wasn’t time and the trails were impassable that far down.
“Something’s going on here, but I don’t know what it is. I’m truly scared for our lives.”
I slammed the diary shut, not wanting to read anymore. I didn’t want to become infected by some kind of contagious cabin fever. If the last owner had gone insane in the mountains and started hallucinating naked corpses crawling around, I really didn’t want to know.
I shoved the diary back in the bookshelf, going for “A Maze of Death” instead. I tried to forget what I had read in the diary as I flew through the novella. All night, I tried to get the image of the naked, twisting man with rotted eyes out of my head, but I couldn’t.
I eventually fell asleep right before dawn. But, as my eyes were closing, I thought I saw a silhouette in the window- a starved man with excited, black eyes that seemed to be rotting out of his skull. I thought I saw him put his inhumanly long fingers against the glass as he leaned forward. I blinked, sitting up and glancing out into the white, snow-covered wonderland.
There was nothing there.
***
Another hunter occasionally followed the deer trails near my cabin. A frozen lake stood a quarter-mile away, the surface white and covered in thick drifts of snow. I bundled up, deciding to go outside for a hike in the frigid dawn. I strapped on my snowshoes and grabbed my shotgun, as I always did when I went outside. I never knew when a polar bear might be waiting around the next tree, after all.
I opened the door, seeing footprints pressed into the snow all around my house. At first, I thought it was that silhouette I had seen, the nightmarish thing from the diary. But the footprints didn’t go over to my window. They followed the trail twenty feet away, veering off towards the frozen lake at the bottom of the hill. I glanced down in that direction, seeing a black figure plodding slowly forward.
“Steve!” I cried, recognizing my only neighbor in a four-mile radius. He had a cabin about a mile away on his own little plot of land. He jumped, clearly startled by the sudden noise. His black snow pants and heavy fur coat swished together as he spun, raising his rifle high. When he saw me, he immediately lowered it and put a gloved hand up in a friendly greeting.
“Hey Josh! Surprised to see you up this early,” he yelled over the muted wintry landscape. Sounds always seemed different after it snowed, as if all the noise in the world had become faded and dead.
“Yeah, I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping,” I said, slinging my shotgun around my shoulder. “What are you doing anyway?”
“Just a little hunting, you know,” he said, giving me a sly wink. “Animals are always most active around dusk and dawn, it seems. That’s when I always have the best luck, anyway.” He stepped close to me, staring me in the eyes. “You do look like shit. Those bags under your eyes are big enough to carry groceries in.”
“Yeah, trust me, I know… Hey, this might sound a little weird, but did you know the previous owner of this cabin?” I asked. Steve’s wrinkled, old face fell into a scowl. His expression immediately became guarded and distant.
“Sure, sure, we met,” he exclaimed bluntly. He seemed to be searching my face for something, but I didn’t know what. His reaction left me feeling off-balance and nervous.
“Is he still around?” I said. Steve’s scowl deepened.
“Buddy, I don’t know what this is about, but he’s dead. He’s been dead. He died in that cabin, actually.” He pointed a finger at my home accusingly. With those words, my heart seemed to drop into my stomach. Waves of dread flowed through my body like water.
“How… how did he die? Like a heart attack or something?” I asked. Steve’s gaze turned downwards. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Do you know that Alaska has the highest missing persons rate in the entire United States? It’s not even close. In fact, for the population size, we have far more people who go missing and never get found than anywhere else. They even have a name for it: the Alaska Triangle,” Steve said. “And we’re square in the middle of it.” I stared blankly at him, wondering where he was going with this. It seemed like a way to avoid answering my question.
“No, I didn’t know that…” I responded. Steve nodded, raising his head again. He heaved a deep sigh.
“Look, the thing with the last owner and his wife… it’s somewhat disturbing. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you, but it’s certainly not going to help your peace of mind. And it definitely isn’t going to help you get some sleep.”
“I want to know,” I insisted instantly. The wind started to whip past us. Flakes of ice and snow flew sideways in the sudden currents.
“Let’s go back to your cabin then,” Steve said, pulling his heavy fur-lined hood off and shaking out his long, black hair behind him. “I could use a bit of whiskey to warm up.”
***
We sat down with a bottle of Johnny Walker and two shot glasses. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but Steve certainly was. He chugged three shots in the span of a minute. I sipped at mine, drinking half and putting it back down on the coffee table with a thunk. Steve grunted, hissing through his open mouth for a moment.
“Ugh, that’s the good stuff,” he said, slamming his chest as the burning liquor worked its way down. Steve looked up at me with a new sparkle in his eyes. “Huh, so you want to know about what happened to Will Lenning. Well, I’ll tell you that no one really knows the whole story. I used to see him occasionally, come down and have a drink and talk. We all know each other around here, obviously.” I nodded, motioning him on. “He seemed like a normal, upstanding guy. He kinda reminded me of you, actually. A young guy trying to escape the hustle and bustle of the city life, the cancer of the American Dream.
“Well, he was here for maybe a couple months, I don’t know. Everything seemed fine. We used to go skeet shooting occasionally, have a beer, you know. We’d get together with a couple other hunters who live closer to town and sometimes play some poker. I never saw anything odd about Will. I never could have predicted what happened to him.” He heaved a long sigh at this, looking out the window at the sharp mountains with an expression of nostalgia.
“Well, what happened to him?” I asked, encouraging him to go on.
“He started talking about seeing someone peering in through his window at night. He talked about hearing sounds from under his bed while he was laying there in the dark- sounds like diseased breathing and shuffling. He started keeping all the lights on in his cabin twenty-four hours a day.” Steve leaned close to me. A glimmer of fear rippled across his pale, wrinkled face. “He started to lose his mind. Started digging holes all over the place, looking for something. Even in the middle of snowstorms, I would occasionally see him outside, digging. It seemed like he never slept anymore. It was classic cabin fever if I ever saw it.
“It was only a few weeks later that I came over here, concerned. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, which was fairly unusual. I found the door hanging wide open. Propped up in a chair in the exact spot where you now sit, Will lay with a blast hole showing clear through his skull, a shotgun laying at his feet.
“And next to him, I found a blood-stained diary opened to the middle page. The last entry was stained with blood spatter, but still visible. I remember leaning down and reading it. It was only a few sentences long.” I glanced over at the bookshelf with the same diary, saying nothing.
“It said something like, ‘I see now what’s going on. The Twisted Man is leading me to the truth. Today, I will finally find it.’”
“And that was his suicide note?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest. He nodded.
“Yeah. I went into town and got some rangers to come check it out. Eventually, they got cops and CSI there. They took all the stuff as evidence, including the diary,” he said. “Good riddance, I say. Reading something like that is never beneficial. Sometimes delusions spread like a virus, you know what I mean?” I did, but I said nothing. I glanced back at the diary, its black leather cover gleaming like a crouching snake.
And I wondered- if the police took the diary as evidence, how did it get back here?
***
“You said he had a wife living here with him, too?” I asked.
“Yeah… she went missing around the same time,” he said. “Pretty bizarre. The cops thought maybe she just moved away, but…” He shook his head grimly. “As far as I know, she was never seen again. It was like she had evaporated into thin air.”
After Steve left, I walked stiffly over to the bookshelf, taking down the diary. I flipped open through the pages. In the middle, I found the last entry. Spatters of old, darkened blood were scattered over the page like raindrops. I found the suicide note and read the date.
“January 27th, 2015,” it read. Will Lenning had not lived long after he started seeing the Twisted Man. I wondered if my fate would be the same.
The Sun had started to set outside as I sat with the diary at the small circular kitchen table, eating some stewed venison and rice as I read through the entries. At the end, Will Lenning said the Twisted Man had been trying to guide him somewhere, that, in fact, the Twisted Man had been trying to protect him from some great evil, rather than being the source of it.
I scoffed, feeling a flash of anger at his stupidity. His naivety obviously led to his death. But then a flash of insight struck me like lightning.
What if I was committing the same kind of stupidity? Perhaps I should just grab my gun and valuables and leave. I could take off on the snowmobile and be in town within a couple hours.
But, in my heart, I knew I would not. Something about the mystery of all this beckoned me to stay. Like a siren leading sailors to destruction, my curiosity called out to me, and I knew I would not be leaving that night. I needed answers.
And, sadly, I would find them.
***
I had fallen asleep with an empty bottle of beer in my hand. I sat in front of the TV, which only got satellite reception. There were, of course, no cable or phone lines threading their way through the forest. All of my power came from stored solar energy. Since I rarely watched TV and really only used it to cook or heat up water for bathing, the energy produced was sufficient even in winter. Tonight, though, I needed its sound, its mindless flashing of light and colors and canned laughter. It seemed to drive away the creeping, suffocating presence like a candle.
I woke suddenly. The TV flashed with static. The repetitive hissing of the white noise spit from the speakers like thousands of snakes. I glanced up at the clock. 3:33 AM. I looked around the dark cabin, confused for a long moment. I didn’t understand what had woken me so abruptly. The satellite had never gone out before, either, even with the howling winds and freezing hail of the Alaskan winter.
The TV started flickering as if the static were rising upwards. Black lines traced their way horizontally across the screen. The hissing deepened into a gurgle, and for a second, I thought I heard faint words behind the white noise. I thought I heard breathing, slow and diseased, like the death gasp of a drowning man.
A black line rose across the TV and an image came into view. The cabin was suddenly plunged into silence, except for the shrieking, wintry wind outside. I leaned close to the screen, confused at what I was looking at. It looked like a live camera feed of a room. As I took in the details, I realized it was my cabin. I saw myself in the chair, leaning close to the screen. I raised my hand, and the miniature version of me on the screen did likewise. Ice water seemed to drip down my spine as waves of dread coursed through my body.
“What the fuck is this?” I whispered, looking back to where the camera should be. It was just a coarse wooden ceiling in that corner. I turned back to the screen and nearly screamed.
The TV showed a pale, naked man crouching directly behind my chair now. With jerky movements, he rose, his broken spine twisting and shivering. A hissing voice rang out from the speakers. It spoke as if it had dirt and writhing maggots in its throat.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death,” it gurgled. “Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
Long, broken fingers with blackened nails reached out to touch my shoulders. I jumped out of the chair, stumbling back as I spun around in terror. My back smashed into the TV, and it fell to the floor with a shattering of glass and an explosion of light.
In those few moments before the darkness descended on me like a blanket, I thought I glimpsed a pale, sunken face with rotted, blackened eyes peeking out from behind the chair.
***
I turned on every light in the cabin, but there was no sign of the Twisted Man now. I knew I had to get out of there, though. I thought about the warning that the voice had spoken. If the creature wanted to attack me, then why hadn’t it just killed me while I was sleeping? None of it made sense. Who was watching me? The Twisted Man? And if he was, why warn me? Perhaps it was psychological warfare, I thought to myself. Perhaps the Twisted Man simply liked to play with his food before he ate it.
Thoughts raced through my head at a thousand miles an hour as I threw on snow pants and a couple heavy sweaters and coats. I covered up my entire body as much as I could to try to prevent frostbite. I had made up my mind to flee. There was no snowstorm tonight, though the entire landscape was blanketed in it and I knew the wind chill would be like an ice blade whipping against my skin. It was extremely dangerous to travel in the middle of the night like this in temperatures that might reach negative thirty degrees. Steve had been right, after all- Alaska had the highest missing persons rate of any state, and many of them were never found, their bodies likely frozen solid in the deep snow dozens of miles from the nearest town.
I grabbed my shotgun, jumped on my snowmobile and started heading to Steve’s cabin. I hoped I could wait there until the sunrise and then figure out what to do next.
But fate would take the decision out of my hands.
***
I felt like there were eyes watching me as I drove along the narrow, winding deer trail. The boughs of the evergreens reached into the path like greedy hands, grabbing at my coat and legs. More than a couple times, I thought I saw a pale, naked figure standing in the snow, but it had always gone when I turned to look.
I gave a sigh of relief when Steve’s place appeared in the distance. I could see the lights twinkling through the small windows of his log cabin. I pulled up next to his door, looking down. I saw two pairs of footprints there, one much smaller than the other. I found it odd, but shrugged it off. The snowmobile cut out with a sucking gurgle.
I knocked on the door hard a few times. Steve appeared after a few moments, groggy and half-dressed. He blinked slowly as he looked me up and down. His wrinkled face fell into a frown.
“Steve, I need a favor,” I said quickly. “Something weird is happening in my cabin. Can I stay here until morning, until maybe I can go to town or something? I can’t stay at my place tonight. I just can’t.” He nodded, yawning and motioning me in.
“You can sleep on the couch, I guess,” Steve said. “Put that shotgun somewhere safe, though, boy.” He had a partitioned bedroom in his cabin. It was significantly larger than my little one-room cabin, though it was basically still just a joint kitchen-living room, a small bedroom and a bathroom. He pointed to a well-worn couch in the corner and gave me an apathetic wave as he stumbled back into his bedroom, slamming the door.
I couldn’t sleep, though. I tiptoed around the room, looking at Steve’s bookshelf. He had a rather strange taste in books- lots of Anne Rule and true crime there. I saw dozens of books about Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Richard Chase, Herbert Mullin, Jeffrey Dahmer and Richard Ramirez among the collection. At the end, a large, black binder stood, unlabeled and worn-looking. It reminded me of the look of that leather-bound diary for a second, and my heart dropped. But logically, I knew this was just a coincidence. Yet, still, I pulled out the binder, my curiosity piqued.
What I found inside filled me with dread and horror.
Countless news clippings covered the length of it. The first clipping was from nearly twenty years earlier, about a woman who went missing in the Alaskan forest while hiking. A later one confirmed that her body was never found, and that her family was still hoping that she might turn up alive somewhere. A reward was offered for any information, it said.
And every page after that was more of the same: missing woman, murdered prostitute, missing man, no leads. I kept flipping through until I found clippings about Will Lenning’s suicide and the sudden disappearance of his wife. On the article about the suicide, Steve had used red marker to scrawl, “HA HA!” next to it.
I heard the click of a gun being cocked from behind me. I froze as Steve’s voice traveled across the room like a whisper.
“How do you like my work, friend?” he asked, his tone jovial and mocking.
***
I still held the binder of horrors tightly in my hands as I stared open-mouthed at this man I thought I knew.
“It’s you? What, you killed Will Lenning and his wife? And a lot of other women, apparently.” Everything felt unreal, as if I were stuck in a dream. Steve’s grin spread across his face, but his blue eyes stayed cold and dead.
“Yes, well, she was cheating on him with me anyway. Just another whore, you know. They always get what’s coming to them in the end,” he hissed with hatred oozing from his voice. “It’s too bad, really. I just killed another slut tonight. I was planning on saving you for later. The urge isn’t too bad yet right now, after all. It comes in cycles, you see. It comes in waves…” I saw a glimmer of pale, naked flesh writhing behind Steve. With jerky movements, the Twisted Man came up behind him. I said nothing, just watching with wide-eyed horror and amazement.
“You need help, man,” I whispered. Steve laughed.
“Help? The only help they give people like me is a needle in the arm. You know that. That’s why it’s important to always cover your tracks…” The Twisted Man ran a long, broken finger across Steve’s neck. Steve gave a strangled cry and jumped. He spun around, screaming. I glanced over at my shotgun next to the couch.
I jumped for it as Steve turned back to me, firing his pistol twice. The first bullet soared high above me, raining wood splinters down on my head, but the second ripped into my leg. A cold, burning pain ran like fire up my shin. I screamed in agony and battle fury as I gripped the shotgun, spinning and firing.
Steve’s head exploded as the slug ripped through his brain. His forehead collapsed like a smashed melon as bone splinters and blood sprayed the wall behind him.
The Twisted Man stood there, hunched over, grinning up at me. I felt warm blood gushing from my leg as I stared back at him, breathing hard. I wondered if I was dying.
“You… you weren’t after me at all, were you?” I asked. “You were after… Steve.” But the Twisted Man said nothing. After a long moment, he slinked back into the shadows of the bedroom and disappeared.
***
As night crawled its way toward morning, I thought back to the words the Twisted Man had spoken through the TV, suddenly understanding everything.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death. Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
He hadn’t been trying to hurt me at all. He had been trying to warn me. He had probably tried to warn Will Lenning and his wife, too.
I wrapped my leg in gauze, gritting my teeth. The wound looked puckered and deep, but I could still move my foot, and the bullet had gone clean through the flesh. I poured alcohol on it, screaming in pain as it burned its way through my skin. After rummaging through Steve’s bathroom, I found some prescription painkillers and swallowed a handful of them with a beer. I knew I would need the opiate high to get through the pain of riding into town with a mutilated leg.
As the Sun finally rose, I made my way outside the blood-stained floors of the cabin to my snowmobile. Before I left, I glanced back at that horrid place, the scene of so much torment and death.
In the open doorway, the Twisted Man stood, his back hunched, his rotted lips grinning at me. His hand lifted up into the air with jerky movements and waved.
I waved back as I started the engine and headed into town.
2024.06.01 17:01 eZGjBw1Z New and Changed Products - June 2024 (More price decreases than increases)
Usually around the first of the month we have a batch of price changes. According to the "How to Become a Contract Liquor Agent" document, "The Agent must also complete price changes that occur at the first of the month..."
I plan to use this post to capture other smaller changes that happen during the rest of the month before the big change next month. Be sure to go back and check out what changed last month after the 1st.
Counts for 6/1/24:
Here's a link to what changed last month in May, 2024.
Current product status is indicated on each line as follows. OHLQ hasn't publicly explained what these things mean but I've included my best guess below.
submitted by eZGjBw1Z to OhioLiquor [link] [comments]
I plan to use this post to capture other smaller changes that happen during the rest of the month before the big change next month. Be sure to go back and check out what changed last month after the 1st.
Counts for 6/1/24:
- Number of Price Decreases: 486
- Number of New Products: 29
- Number of Price Increases: 20
- Number of Status Changes: 7 (3 are to De-Listed)
Here's a link to what changed last month in May, 2024.
Current product status is indicated on each line as follows. OHLQ hasn't publicly explained what these things mean but I've included my best guess below.
- A = Active
- Regularly supplied and available for purchase
- D = De-Listed
- No longer carried by OHLQ, may still be available in some stores or the warehouse. Sometimes considered a Last Call product
- I = Inactive
- Discontinued by the supplier or otherwise unavailable to OHLQ
- S = Special Order
- Regularly available but in limited supply. Not available in very many stores
- V = Value-Added-Pack
- Bottle comes with some kind of extra gift like a glass/mug/etc
American Whiskey
- New Products
- [A] CINCINNATI DISTILLING PEACH WHISKEY - 3140B ($24.99 / 750 ML)
- [S] EAGLE RARE 25 - 1839B ($9,999.99 / 750 ML)
- [S] EZRA BROOKS FULL PROOF SINGLE BARREL - 3132B ($54.99 / 750 ML)
- [S] EZRA BROOKS STAVE DARK CHOCOLATE SINGLE BARREL - 3133B ($64.99 / 750 ML)
- [S] EZRA BROOKS STAVE SWEET CINNAMON SINGLE BARREL - 3134B ($64.99 / 750 ML)
- [A] FINDLAY MARKET RESERVE BOURBON WHISKEY - 4227B ($44.99 / 750 ML)
- [A] FOUR DOGS DISTILLING BLACK DOG BOURBON WHEAT - 4484B ($58.95 / 750 ML)
- [A] FOUR DOGS DISTILLLING LEPRECHAUN P MOONSHINE - 4485B ($34.99 / 750 ML)
- [A] HAYNER BARREL PROOF BOURBON - 0751B ($89.95 / 750 ML)
- [A] HAYNER BLACKBERRY BOURBON - 0752B ($64.95 / 750 ML)
- [A] IRON VAULT DOUBLE OAKED BOTTLED IN BOND BOURBON - 4890B ($69.99 / 750 ML)
- [A] MIDDLE WEST DOUBLE CASK NAPOLEON CALVADOS - 6536B ($129.99 / 750 ML)
- [A] MIDDLE WEST DOUBLE CASK NAPOLEON VINO DE NARANJA - 6537B ($129.99 / 750 ML)
- [A] MINGLEWOOD BLACKBERRY BOURBON WHISKEY - 6538B ($44.95 / 750 ML)
- [S] REBEL FULL PROOF SINGLE BARREL - 2219B ($54.99 / 750 ML)
- [S] REBEL STAVE FINISH CARAMEL HONEY SINGLE BARREL - 2223B ($64.99 / 750 ML)
- [S] REBEL STAVE FINISH RICH MOCHA SINGLE BARREL - 2224B ($64.99 / 750 ML)
- [A] REMUS BABE RUTH RESERVE - 5575B ($199.99 / 750 ML)
- [S] WELLER MILLENIUM - 2266B ($7,500.00 / 750 ML)
- [S] WHISKEY WAR DOUBLE DOUBLE OAKED SINGLE BARREL - 4286B ($104.99 / 750 ML)
- Price decreases
- [D] GUERO RESERVE BOURBON WHISKEY - 3877B ($116.99 / 750 ML) - $78.00↓
- [D] WILDERNESS TRAIL CASK STRENGTH RYE WHISKEY - 9708B ($38.99 / 750 ML) - $26.00↓
- [D] CLYDE MAYS SPECIAL RESERVE WHISKEY - 2118B ($35.99 / 750 ML) - $24.00↓
- [A] HAYNER PATH OF TOTALITY BOURBON - 0722B ($69.95 / 750 ML) - $20.00↓
- [D] Jim Beam Apple Traveler - 0315D ($22.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $14.50↓
- [D] JIM BEAM PEACH PET - 0317D ($22.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $14.50↓
- [D] RED STAG PET - 8443D ($22.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $14.50↓
- [D] EZRA BROOKS - 2949D ($17.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $11.50↓
- [A] MIDDLE WEST SPIRITS RYE WHISKEY - 6557B ($69.99 / 750 ML) - $10.00↓
- [A] WHISTLEPIG RYE 10 YEAR - 9704B ($79.99 / 750 ML) - $10.00↓
- [D] FISTFUL OF BOURBON - 3044B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $10.00↓
- [D] REBEL STRAIGHT RYE WHISKEY - 8360B ($13.99 / 750 ML) - $9.00↓
- [D] SQRRL WHISKEY PEANUT BUTTER - 9423B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $8.50↓
- [D] EZRA BROOKS - 2949B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $6.00↓
- [D] JIM BEAM WHISKEY OF THE SEASON - 5141E ($8.99 / 600 ML) - $6.00↓
- [D] RY3 WHISKEY - 7325B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] THE WISEMAN RYE - 7383B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] WATERSHED BOURBON - 9502L ($29.99 / 1 Liter) - $5.00↓
- [A] MAKER'S MARK - 6060L ($34.99 / 1 Liter) - $5.00↓
- [A] WATERSHED DISTILLERY BOURBON 4 YEAR - 9514B ($34.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] WATERSHED DISTILLERY BOURBON 4 YEAR - 9514L ($44.99 / 1 Liter) - $5.00↓
- [A] WHISTLEPIG PIGGYBACK 6 YEAR RYE - 9591B ($44.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] WHISTLEPIG PIGGYBACK BOURBON - 9415B ($44.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] KILLBUCK CREEK WHITE - 5399B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] BARRICA OLO - 0242B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] FEW SPIRITS BOURBON WHISKEY - 3573B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] OLD SOUL BOURBON - 2198B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] STRAIGHT EDGE BURBON - 8839B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] WHIP SAW RYE WHISKEY - 9524B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] AMERICAN BORN WHISKEY - 0342B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] APPARITION CORN WHISKEY - 0138B ($14.49 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] OLE SMOKY PEPPERMINT MOONSHINE - 7664B ($13.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] WHISKEYSMITH CHOCOLATE FLAVORED WHISKEY - 5785B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] WHISKEYSMITH SALTED CARMEL WHISKEY - 5786B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] YELLOW SPRINGS APPLE PIE - 9713B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] CLEVELAND UNDERGROUND HONEY LOCUST - 2085M ($11.99 / 375 ML) - $4.13↓
- [D] 2BAR SPIRITS - 1200B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] BARRICA PX - 0243B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] BEACH BONFIRE CINNAMON WHISKEY - 8680B ($11.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] BEACH ISLAND COCONUT - 0267B ($11.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] BELLE MEADE CLASSIC BOURBON - 0812B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] BOONE COUNTY SMALL BATCH RYE WHISKEY - 1397B ($25.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] COPPERCRAFT STRAIGHT RYE WHISKEY - 2300B ($22.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] DAVIESS COUNTY KENTUCKY STRAIGHT BOURBON WHISKEY - 4151B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] DAVIESS COUNTY KSBW FRENCH OAK FINISHED - 4153B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] ELIJAH CRAIG RYE WHISKEY - 2838M ($11.49 / 375 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] HIGH WEST 375ML MULTIPACK RTD RTD - 4266M ($23.99 / 375 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] HIGH WEST MANHATTAN BARREL FINISHED COCKTAIL RTD - 4277B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] HIGH WEST MANHATTAN RTD - 4273B ($24.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] HUDSON BABY BOURBON - 4797B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] HUDSON BRIGHT LIGHTS BIG BOURBON - 1417B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] HUDSON DO THE RYE THING - 1124B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] JIM BEAM GIFT - 5114B ($11.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] LIMOUSIN RYE 6 YEAR - 4230B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] MIDNIGHT MOON STRAWBERRY - 5266B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] ROSSVILLE UNION MASTER CRAFTED RYE WHISKEY - 5333B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] THE MANHATTAN PROJECT RTD - 7048B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] WATERSHED BOURBON - 9502B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] WHISTLEPIG RYE 10 YEAR - 9704M ($23.99 / 375 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] YELLOW ROSE RYE WHISKEY - 3054B ($23.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] JIM BEAM HONEY PET - 0316D ($22.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] JIM BEAM ORANGE - 4133D ($22.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] KESSLER - 0113B ($5.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] NELSON BROTHERS CLASSIC BOURBON - 1143B ($22.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] PB&W PEANUT BUTTER FLAVORED WHISKEY - 8019B ($10.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] ROBERSON'S TENNESSEE MELLOMOON - 8450B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] SLAUGHTER HOUSE WHISKEY - 8838B ($20.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] TRAVERSE CITY WHISKEY CO. NORTH COAST RYE WHISKEY - 1229B ($21.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [A] JIM BEAM - 4116D ($31.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [A] JIM BEAM APPLE - 5120D ($31.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [A] JIM BEAM HONEY - 5118D ($31.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [A] JIM BEAM PEACH - 4122D ($31.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [A] JIM BEAM PET - 0306D ($31.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [A] JIM BEAM RED STAG BLACK CHERRY - 8375D ($31.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] APPARITION APPLE PIE - 0217B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] APPARITION BLACKBERRY - 0148B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] APPARITION BLUEBERRY - 0147B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] APPARITION PUMPKIN SPICE - 0264B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BSB 103 - 1592B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BUFFALO TRACE DISTILLERY WHITE DOG RYE MASH - 1547M ($8.99 / 375 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BUFFALO TRACE DISTILLERY WHITE DOG WHEATED MASH - 2028M ($8.99 / 375 ML) - $3.00↓
- [A] BULLEIT - 1497D ($54.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [A] CLYDE MAYS SPECIAL RESERVE BOURBON - 2121B ($56.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] DEVILS RIVER BOURBON - 2461B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] EZRA BROOKS - 2949M ($4.49 / 375 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] FIREFLY APPLE PIE MOONSHINE - 3032B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [A] JEFFERSONS MANHATTAN RTD - 5094B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] NELSON'S GREEN BRIER TENNESSEE WHISKEY - 4350B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] SENATORS CLUB - 0199D ($8.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] TRAVERSE CITY WHISKEY CO MICHIGAN APPLE - 6282B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] TRAVERSE CITY WHISKEY CO. LAKESIDE PEACH BBN WSKY - 6281B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [A] WILD TURKEY LONGBRANCH - 9619B ($36.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] ECHO SPRING - 0075L ($7.49 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- [D] ON THE ROCKS BASIL HAYDEN DARK RYE MANHATTAN RTD - 9513M ($7.99 / 375 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] QUALITY HOUSE - 4065L ($7.99 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- [D] T SMITH WOOD FIR - 9323B ($16.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [A] WOODSHED SPIRITS APPLE PIE - 9575B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.29↓
- [A] WOODSHED SPIRITS APRICOT - 9577B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.29↓
- [A] WOODSHED SPIRITS CANDY APPLE - 9580B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.29↓
- [A] WOODSHED SPIRITS LEMON DROP - 9578B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.29↓
- [A] WOODSHED SPIRITS ORANGE DREAMSICLE - 9576B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.29↓
- [A] WOODSHED SPIRITS TANGERINE - 9579B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.29↓
- [D] KESSLER - 0113M ($3.49 / 375 ML) - $2.10↓
- [D] BOURBON SUPREME RARE BLEND - 2089L ($6.49 / 1 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [A] ELIJAH CRAIG RYE WHISKEY - 2838B ($32.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] ELIJAH CRAIG SMALL BATCH - 2919B ($32.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] HIGH WEST BOURBON - 4269B ($34.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] HIGH WEST DOUBLE RYE - 4271B ($34.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] MINGLEWOOD APPLE WHISKY - 6608B ($22.95 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] OLD GRAND DAD KENTUCKY STRAIGHT BOURBON WHISKEY - 0073D ($29.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [A] REDNECK RIVIERA - 8399B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] WILD TURKEY 101 - 1816D ($47.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [D] BOURBON SUPREME RARE BLEND - 2089M ($2.99 / 375 ML) - $1.50↓
- [D] SOUTHERN COMFORT 80 PROOF - 8859B ($8.49 / 750 ML) - $1.50↓
- [D] SOUTHERN COMFORT 80 PROOF 4 PACK - 3127E ($1.99 / 600 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] ELIJAH CRAIG SMALL BATCH - 2919M ($17.99 / 375 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] WILD TURKEY 101 - 1816B ($24.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] WILD TURKEY 101 TRAVELER - 9635B ($24.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [D] REBEL 100 PROOF - 8353F ($1.49 / 50 ML) - $0.51↓
- [D] CLYDE MAYS ALABAMA STYLE WHISKEY 85P - 2079B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $0.50↓
- [D] SOUTHERN COMFORT 80 PROOF - 8859F ($0.49 / 50 ML) - $0.50↓
- [D] SQRRL WHISKEY PEANUT BUTTER - 9423F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- Price increases
- [D] MIDNIGHT MOON WATERMELON - 6612F ($1.49 / 50 ML) - $0.50↑
- [D] MIDNIGHT MOON PEPPERMINT 50MLS - 6613F ($1.99 / 50 ML) - $1.00↑
- [D] MILL ST MOONSHINE - 6589B ($15.99 / 750 ML) - $7.00↑
- [D] MILL STREET - 6593B ($21.99 / 750 ML) - $9.50↑
- [S] DOUBLE EAGLE VERY RARE - 2779B ($3,000.00 / 750 ML) - $1,000.00↑
- Changed products
- [A] ELIJAH CRAIG TOASTED BARREL - 2843B ($54.99 / 750 ML) - Status changed from Special Order to Active
- [S] LITTLE BOOK 7 renamed to LITTLE BOOK 8 - 5972B ($124.99 / 750 ML) -
- [A] MAKER'S MARK WOOD FINISHING SERIES BRT-01 renamed to MAKER'S MARK WOOD FINISHING SERIES - 6165B ($59.99 / 750 ML) -
- [S] RABBIT HOLE FOUNDERS COLLECTION MIZUNARA - 5355B ($1,499.99 / 750 ML) - Status changed from Active to Special Order
Brandy
- Price decreases
- [A] HENNESSY XO - 4103B ($214.99 / 750 ML) - $34.00↓
- [A] HENNESSY XO - 4103M ($109.99 / 375 ML) - $21.00↓
- [D] HENNESSY BLACK - 4074B ($27.99 / 750 ML) - $18.00↓
- [D] R JELINEK SLIVOVITZ 10 YEAR - 7802B ($20.49 / 750 ML) - $13.50↓
- [D] MASION GAUTIER COGNAC VS - 6204B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $13.00↓
- [D] R JELINEK WILLIAMS PEAR BRANDY - 7804B ($19.49 / 750 ML) - $12.56↓
- [D] R JELINEK SLIVOVITZ 5 YEAR - 7803B ($14.49 / 750 ML) - $9.50↓
- [A] HENNESSY VSOP COGNAC - 4092M ($29.99 / 375 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] HINE RARE VSOP COGNAC - 4900B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] COURVOISIER VSOP - 0456M ($14.99 / 375 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] GAZDINA RAKIJA PLUM - 3506B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] KORBEL CALIFORNIA BRANDY - 5486B ($7.49 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] GRAN GALA VS COGNAC - 3813B ($11.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] ANSAC BLACK KNIGHT COGNAC - 0360B ($20.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] COPPER & KINGS CRAFT BRANDY - 2270B ($20.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] ANSAC VS - 0084B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] FLORES ZUTA OSA - 9736B ($18.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [A] HENNESSY VS - 0461D ($79.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] MARTELL BLUE SWIFT - 6244M ($17.99 / 375 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] ST REMY SIGNATURE - 0475B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] CHRISTIAN BROS APPLE - 2015B ($7.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] PARAMOUNT APRICOT - 0488B ($6.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] CORONET VSQ - 0481B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] E & J APPLE BRANDY - 2870M ($2.99 / 375 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] PARAMOUNT BLACKBERRY - 0482B ($6.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] PAUL MASSON PINEAPPLE - 7960B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] CHRISTIAN BROTHERS APPLE - 2015M ($3.49 / 375 ML) - $1.80↓
- [D] CORONET VSQ - 0481M ($3.49 / 375 ML) - $1.80↓
- [A] E & J VS - 2873B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [D] E & J APPLE BRANDY - 2870F ($0.49 / 50 ML) - $0.50↓
Canadian Whiskey
- New Products
- [A] CROWN ROYAL PEACH AND APPLE VARIETY PACK - 2434E ($19.99 / 600 ML)
- Price decreases
- [D] FIREBALL CINNAMON WHISKY 4 PACK 375ML - 3124M ($16.99 / 375 ML) - $11.00↓
- [D] ALBERTA PREMIUM RYE WHISKY - 0224B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $6.50↓
- [D] WINDSOR CANADIAN BLACK CHERRY - 9651D ($10.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $6.50↓
- [D] FIREBALL CINNAMON WHISKY 4 PACK 200ML - 3124H ($8.49 / 200 ML) - $5.50↓
- [D] FIREBALL FIREBOX - 3039D ($29.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $5.00↓
- [D] CROWN ROYAL REGAL APPLE - 2383E ($7.49 / 600 ML) - $4.70↓
- [D] BENJAMIN CHAPMAN 7 YEAR WHISKEY - 0251B ($25.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] FIREBALL TREE ORNAMENT 50MLS - 1634E ($5.99 / 600 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] J.P. WISER'S OLD FASHIONED RTD - 3435B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] CANADIAN GOLD - 1730L ($5.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] CANADIAN MIST - 0174B ($4.49 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] HARWOOD - 4041D ($9.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] MCMASTERS CANADIAN - 0170B ($4.49 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] RICH & RARE - 8431B ($3.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] MCMASTERS CANADIAN - 0170M ($2.99 / 375 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] RICH & RARE - 8431M ($2.49 / 375 ML) - $1.50↓
- [D] CANADIAN MIST - 0174F ($0.49 / 50 ML) - $0.50↓
Cordial
- New Products
- [S] COMBIER BANANE - 1794B ($29.99 / 750 ML)
- Price decreases
- [D] CLEMENT CREOLE SHRUBB - 2067B ($20.99 / 750 ML) - $16.00↓
- [D] COMBIER DORANGE - 2235B ($14.49 / 750 ML) - $12.50↓
- [D] R JELINEK BOHEMIA HONEY - 7800B ($18.49 / 750 ML) - $11.62↓
- [D] DEKUYPER 03 - 2644B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $8.50↓
- [D] CELTIC CROSSING HONEY - 1853B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $8.00↓
- [D] R JELINEK FERNET - 7801B ($11.49 / 750 ML) - $7.50↓
- [A] CLEMENT CREOLE SHRUBB - 2067C ($29.99 / 700 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] PATRON CITRONGE LIME - 7969B ($14.49 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] PATRON CITRONGE MANGO - 7965B ($14.49 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] PATRON CITRONGE PINEAPPLE - 1593B ($14.49 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] THE GLENLIVET TWIST & MIX NEW MANHATTAN RTD - 4636M ($14.99 / 375 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] THE GLENLIVET TWIST & MIX OLD FASHIONED RTD - 4637M ($14.99 / 375 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] GRAND MURIEL ORANGE LIQUER - 3860L ($14.49 / 1 Liter) - $4.50↓
- [D] BAYOU SATSUMA - 0571B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] CAMPARI NEGRONI RTD - 6160M ($11.99 / 375 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] DRAMBUIE - 0608M ($11.49 / 375 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] HOTEL TANGO LIMONCELLO - 4750B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] WEST 32 RESERVE SOJU - 9556B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] AMARO ALTA VERDE - 1149B ($12.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] THE BITTER TRUTH PEACH BITTERS - 6303H ($12.99 / 200 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] CINPATRAZZO - 1971B ($22.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] COCKTAILS BY HEUBLEIN 1792 MANHATTAN RTD - 1956M ($5.49 / 375 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] COCKTAILS BY HEUBLEIN 1792 OLD FASHIONED RTD - 1957M ($5.49 / 375 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] COCKTAILS BY HEUBLEIN WHEATLEY DIRTY MARTINI RTD - 1958M ($5.49 / 375 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] DARNA DOMACI - 2511B ($10.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] MARIE BRIZARD POIRE WILLIAM LIQUEUR - 8560B ($10.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] PARAMOUNT PEPPERMINT - 0697D ($10.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] BOLS BLUE CURACAO - 1188B ($5.49 / 750 ML) - $3.16↓
- [D] GIFFARD PIMENT DESPELETTE - 3540B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] RIGA BLACK BALSAM - 8806B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BAUCHANT LIQUEUR - 6126L ($16.99 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- [D] GLAROS OUZO - 3602B ($6.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] JAGERMEISTER COOLPACK - 5057M ($7.99 / 375 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] PARAMOUNT SLOE GIN - 0580L ($6.99 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- [D] SAO PAULO CACHACA - 8688L ($7.99 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- [D] MELETTI SAMBUCA - 6445B ($15.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] CONCIERE COFFEE LIQUEUR - 2190L ($6.99 / 1 Liter) - $2.00↓
- Price increases
- [D] COINTREAU LIQUEUR - 2690F ($1.99 / 50 ML) - $1.00↑
Gin
- New Products
- [S] STILL G.I.N - 5702B ($31.99 / 750 ML)
- Price decreases
- [D] BOMBAY SAPPHIRE EAST - 1323B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $8.50↓
- [A] AVIATION AMERICAN GIN - 0380D ($39.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $5.00↓
- [D] HOTEL TANGO GOLF GIN - 4747B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] HENDRICKS GIN - 4073M ($11.99 / 375 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] MOLETTO GIN - 6602B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] LANGLEYS 8 GIN - 5534B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] NEW RIFF KENTUCKY WILD BOURBON BARREL AGED GIN - 2152B ($20.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] OLD FOURTH GIN - 7565B ($20.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] RIVES 1880 - 8455B ($10.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] SEAGRAMS LIME TWISTED GIN - 8905M ($2.49 / 375 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] 135 EAST HYOGO JAPANESE DRY GIN - 1135B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BENHAMS DRY GIN - 2482B ($19.49 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BLUECOAT - 0962B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] GREEN HAT ORIGINAL BATCH GIN - 3890B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] HA PENNY DUBLIN DRY GIN - 3796B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] Malfy Gin Con Limone With 2 Glasses - 5168B ($19.49 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] RIGHT GIN - 8436B ($19.49 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BOMBAY SAPPHIRE - 1327H ($3.99 / 200 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] BOOTH'S FINEST OLD DRY GIN - 0332B ($16.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] GILBEYS GIN - 0339L ($6.99 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- [D] HENDRICKS GIN MARTINI RTD - 4130M ($7.99 / 375 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] PRINCIPE DE LOS APOSTOLES GIN - 7930B ($16.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] MR BOSTON GIN - 6690L ($4.49 / 1 Liter) - $2.30↓
- [D] MILES GIN - 6555L ($5.99 / 1 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [D] BURNETTS GIN - 8995M ($2.99 / 375 ML) - $1.50↓
- [A] NOLETS - 3728B ($34.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] SEAGRAMS EXTRA DRY GIN - 0305B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] SEAGRAMS EXTRA DRY GIN TRV - 8900B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [D] SEAGRAMS EXTRA DRY GIN - 0305F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- Price increases
- [D] BARTON GIN - 0563D ($7.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $1.21↑
- [D] AVIATION AMERICAN GIN - 0380F ($2.49 / 50 ML) - $1.50↑
- [D] HENDRICKS GIN - 4073F ($2.99 / 50 ML) - $2.00↑
Irish Whisky
- New Products
- [A] DUBLINER STEELERS SELECT IRISH WHISKEY - 2817B ($59.99 / 750 ML)
- Price decreases
- [D] CLONTARF - 2074B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $7.00↓
- [D] LIMAVADY SINGLE BARREL IRISH WHISKEY - 3872C ($29.99 / 700 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] BUSHMILLS 375ML VARIETY PACK - 1564M ($26.99 / 375 ML) - $4.50↓
- [A] JAMESON - 0281B ($24.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [A] JAMESON COLD BREW - 5065B ($24.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [A] JAMESON ORANGE - 5154B ($24.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] CONCIERE WHISKEY - 2189L ($6.49 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- Price increases
- [D] JAMESON COLD BREW - 5065F ($1.49 / 50 ML) - $0.50↑
- [D] TULLAMORE DEW - IRELAND - 9317F ($1.99 / 50 ML) - $1.00↑
- [D] IRISHMAN ORIGINAL CLAN WHISKEY - 4895B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↑
- Changed products
- [D] JAMESON ORANGE - 5154F ($1.00 / 50 ML) - Status changed from Active to De-Listed
Japanese Whiskey
- Price decreases
- [A] KAMIKI JAPANESE WHISKY - 5341B ($64.96 / 750 ML) - $10.03↓
Rum
- New Products
- [S] ROLLING FORK 6 YEAR SINGLE CASK JAMAICAN RUM - 8812B ($49.86 / 750 ML)
- [S] ROLLING FORK 6 YR JAMAICAN SINGLE CASK - 8813B ($49.58 / 750 ML)
- Price decreases
- [D] BACARDI 8 RYE CASK FINISH - 1905B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $13.00↓
- [D] STILLWRIGHTS BOURBON BARREL AGED RUM - 8969B ($19.49 / 750 ML) - $12.70↓
- [D] HIGH BANK PROFESSOR RUM - 8118B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $12.00↓
- [A] RHUM JM VSOP - 8419C ($49.99 / 700 ML) - $8.00↓
- [D] CAPTAIN MORGAN BLACK SPICED RUM - 1761B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $8.00↓
- [A] RHUM JM GOLD - 8416C ($32.99 / 700 ML) - $7.00↓
- [D] CRUZAN ESTATE DIAMOND BLACK STRAP RUM - 2403L ($10.49 / 1 Liter) - $6.50↓
- [D] KRAKEN BLACK 70 - 5481B ($9.99 / 750 ML) - $6.00↓
- [D] BACARDI MANGO - 0415B ($8.49 / 750 ML) - $5.50↓
- [A] CLEMENT SELECT BARREL - 2064C ($29.99 / 700 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] CHAIRMANS RESERVE - 1867B ($24.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] CHAIRMANS RESERVE FORGOTTEN CASKS - 1871C ($44.99 / 700 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] CHAIRMANS RESERVE SPICED - 1869B ($24.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] CLEMENT VSOP - 2069B ($39.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] RHUM JM WHITE - 8417C ($32.99 / 700 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] TIKI LOVERS DARK RUM - 6855B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] CAPTAIN MORGAN SPICED 100 - 1757M ($7.49 / 375 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] CLAIRIN LE ROCHER - 2177B ($25.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] PLANTATION XAYMACA SPECIAL DRY - 8107B ($13.49 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] PORTAGE RIVER - 8290M ($14.49 / 375 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] BAYOU RUM SILVER - 0572B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] BLUE CHAIR BAY SPICED RUM - 0957B ($11.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] FARADAY WEST INDIES RUM - 3254B ($25.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] JUNG & WULFF BARBADOS RUM NO 3 - 3266B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] JUNG & WULFF GUYANA RUM NO 2 - 3267B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] JUNG & WULFF TRINIDAD RUM NO 1 - 3268B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] RHUM J.M. GOLD - 8416B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] SPIRITS OF YELLOW SPRINGS - 9080B ($11.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] KILLBUCK CREEK RUM - 5397B ($12.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] KRAKEN BLACK ROAST COFFEE RUM - 5468B ($12.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] ADMIRAL NELSON SILVER - 0226D ($10.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] BACARDI RESERVA OCHO SHERRY CASK FINISH - 0409B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] CALICO JACK - 1550L ($5.49 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] SALTWATER WOODY REAL GRAPEFRUIT - 8170B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] SUGAR ISLAND SPICED - 9086B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] CONCIERE GOLD RUM - 2188L ($5.49 / 1 Liter) - $3.20↓
- [D] DRAKES ORGANIC SPICED RUM - 2554B ($5.49 / 750 ML) - $3.08↓
- [D] DRAKE'S ORGANIC WHITE RUM - 2553B ($5.49 / 750 ML) - $3.08↓
- [D] ANGOSTURA WHITE OAK RUM - 1156B ($9.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BACARDI 8 GIFT - 0391B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BRITISH NAVY PUSSERS - 1496L ($16.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] CASTILLO SILVER RUM - 0586B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [A] CLEMENT RHUM BLANC - 2063B ($21.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] MEIERS WHITE - 6442L ($5.49 / 1 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] LADY BLIGH - 5499B ($4.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] LADY BLIGH - 5499M ($4.49 / 375 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] FLOR DE CANA GRAND RSV 7 - 3052B ($15.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] ADMIRAL NELSON - 0065L ($5.49 / 1 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [A] APPLETON 8 YEAR OLD RESERVE - 0166B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] APPLETON ESTATE SIGNATURE BLEND - 0099B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] BLACK MAGIC BLACK SPICED RUM - 0532B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] CAPTAIN MORGAN - 1755H ($2.99 / 200 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] KRAKEN BLACK SPICED RUM - 5488D ($29.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [D] KRAKEN BLACK SPICED RUM - 5488M ($6.49 / 375 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] PARROT BAY SPICED RUM - 2596B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] ADMIRAL NELSON - 0065D ($14.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [D] CAPTAIN MORGAN SLICED APPLE RUM - 9557F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- Price increases
- [D] LIBERTY SPIRITS RUM - 5911B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $2.14↑
- [D] SELVAREY OWNER'S RESERVE - 7070B ($113.99 / 750 ML) - $19.00↑
Scotch
- Price decreases
- [D] HIGHLAND PARK SINGLE CASK SERIES HEART OF IT ALL BARREL - 4297B ($119.99 / 750 ML) - $80.00↓
- [D] CRAIGELLACHIE 13 ARMAGNAC CASK FINISH - 2364B ($38.99 / 750 ML) - $26.00↓
- [A] ARDBEG CORRYVRECKAN - 0106B ($109.99 / 750 ML) - $20.00↓
- [A] ARDBEG UIGEADAIL - 0114B ($74.99 / 750 ML) - $20.00↓
- [A] GLENMORANGIE SIGNET - 3659B ($249.99 / 750 ML) - $16.00↓
- [A] GLENMORANGIE 18 - 3653B ($129.99 / 750 ML) - $10.00↓
- [D] DEWARS 8 FRENCH SMOOTH - 3289B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $10.00↓
- [D] PASSPORT SCOTCH - 7980D ($11.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $7.50↓
- [A] ARDBEG AN OA - 0149B ($59.99 / 750 ML) - $7.00↓
- [D] AUCHENTOSHAN AMERICAN OAK - 0376B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [A] ARDBEG 10 - 0107B ($59.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] SPEYBURN ARRANTA CASK - 8842B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] SPEYBURN COMPANION CASK - 8653B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] IMPERIAL 12 YEAR BLENDED SCOTCH - 2138B ($13.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] SPEYBURN BRADAN ORACH - 9064B ($13.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] BUCHANANS 12 - 1490M ($11.99 / 375 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] GLENMORANGIE SAMPLER - 3650E ($11.99 / 600 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] SIA - 0713B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] JOHN BARR RESERVE BLACK - 5146L ($20.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] X BY GLENMORANGIE - 3700B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] COPPER DOG - 1976B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] CUTTY SARK 12YR BLENDED SCOTCH WHISKY - 2471C ($16.49 / 700 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] GLENFIDDICH MANHATTAN RTD - 3588M ($7.99 / 375 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] MACALLAN 12 - 6013F ($4.49 / 50 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] MONKEY SHOULDER LAZY OLD FASHION RTD - 6623M ($7.99 / 375 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] USHERS GREEN STRIPE - 0206D ($16.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.50↓
- Price increases
- [D] CHIVAS REGAL 12 YEAR OLD - 0215F ($1.49 / 50 ML) - $0.50↑
- [D] GLENFIDDICH 12 - 3606F ($2.99 / 50 ML) - $2.00↑
Tequila
- New Products
- [A] 21 SEEDS VARIETY PACK - 9897E ($9.99 / 600 ML)
- [S] EL MAYOR CRISTALINO MASTERS COLLECTION - 3271B ($59.99 / 750 ML)
- Price decreases
- [A] CODIGO 1530 ORIGEN EXTRA ANEJO - 1909B ($299.99 / 750 ML) - $50.00↓
- [D] CAZADORES 100 YEAR ANNIVERSARY - 1842B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $16.00↓
- [D] ROCA PATRON REPOSADO - 8458M ($22.99 / 375 ML) - $15.00↓
- [D] ROCA PATRON SILVER - 8459M ($19.99 / 375 ML) - $13.00↓
- [D] AGAVALES GOLD - 0038L ($17.99 / 1 Liter) - $11.58↓
- [D] PATRON VARIETY PACK - 7961F ($12.49 / 50 ML) - $8.00↓
- [D] AVION ANEJO - 0372B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] MEZCAL VAGO ESPADIN - 6549B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] NUESTRA SOLEDAD SAN LUIS - 7710B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] VILLA ONE REPOSADO - 8127B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] EL COBRE - 3494B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] LA ADELITA BLANCO - 3460B ($26.99 / 750 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] ROCA PATRON ANEJO 375ML - 8457M ($25.99 / 375 ML) - $4.50↓
- [D] GRAND LEYENDA ORGANIC TEQUILA SILVER - 2791B ($25.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] IXA SILVER - 4929L ($26.49 / 1 Liter) - $4.00↓
- [D] JAJA REPOSADO TEQUILA - 5061B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] SAN DIMAS MEZCAL - 8185B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] TEQUILA TROMBA REPOSADO - 7918B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] TERRALTA BLANCO TEQUILA - 4878B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] CORRALEJO TRIO SAMPLER PACK - 2308E ($10.99 / 600 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] PEPE LOPEZ GOLD - 8063L ($10.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] PEPE LOPEZ SILVER - 8064L ($10.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] PIZCADORES SOTOL SILVER - 8094B ($22.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] SAUZA GOLD - 8723D ($19.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] TALERO TEQUILA SILVER - 7108B ($20.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] TEQUILA TROMBA BLANCO - 7917B ($20.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] CAMARENA TEQUILA ANEJO - 3105B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] CONCIERE GOLD TEQUILA - 2184L ($7.49 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- [A] CANTERA NEGRA ANEJO - 2706M ($29.99 / 375 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] LUNAZUL BLANCO - 6004B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] LUNAZUL BLANCO - 6004D ($38.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $1.00↓
- [A] LUNAZUL REPOSADO - 6005B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] LUNAZUL REPOSADO - 6005D ($38.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $1.00↓
- [D] AVION SILVER - 0374F ($1.49 / 50 ML) - $0.51↓
- Changed products
- [A] ASTRAL ANEJO - 0338B ($29.99 / 750 ML) - Status changed from Special Order to Active
- [A] VOLCAN REPOSADO - 9757B ($63.99 / 750 ML) - Status changed from Special Order to Active
Vodka
- New Products
- [S] GOOD BOY VODKA - 4507L ($21.99 / 1 Liter)
- Price decreases
- [D] EFFEN LIMITED EDITION PRIDE VODKA - 2869L ($14.49 / 1 Liter) - $9.50↓
- [D] EFFEN RASPBERRY - 2898B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $8.00↓
- [D] BORU - 1426D ($11.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $7.99↓
- [D] GREY GOOSE ESSENCES WATERMELON & BASIL - 3928B ($15.99 / 750 ML) - $7.00↓
- [D] ARISTOCRAT VODKA - 0194D ($7.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $5.00↓
- [D] NIKKA COFFEY VODKA - 7628B ($21.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] BEDLAM VODKA - 0743L ($14.99 / 1 Liter) - $5.00↓
- [D] CHOPIN RYE - 2012B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $5.00↓
- [D] SMIRNOFF PINK LEMONADE - 1679D ($13.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $4.50↓
- [D] CROP MEYER LEMON - 2361B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] EFFEN GREEN APPLE - 2868B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] EFFEN LIMITED EDITION PRIDE VODKA - 2869B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] EFFEN YUZU - 2878B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] PHOENIX PHOENACOLADA - 8095B ($22.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] SOBIESKI ESTATE - 9490B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] STOLICHNAYA CITROS VODKA - 9130B ($10.49 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] KILLBUCK CREEK VODKA - 5398B ($12.99 / 750 ML) - $4.00↓
- [D] ABSOLUT GRAPEFRUIT - 0004D ($20.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] ABSOLUT JUICE PEAR ELDERFLOWER - 0260B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] ABSOLUT JUICE STRAWBERRY - 0258M ($5.49 / 375 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] ABSOLUT WATERMELON - 0250D ($20.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] BELVEDERE HERITAGE 176 - 0858B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] CIROC COCONUT - 2050M ($10.99 / 375 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] EPIC - 2930B ($3.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] FLOH - 3048B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] GORDONS VODKA TRV - 3783B ($5.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] HANSON OF SONOMA MANDARIN VODKA - 3338B ($20.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] KETEL ONE ORANJE - 5385D ($20.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] SEAGRAMS PEACH - 8917B ($5.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] SKYY INFUSIONS CHERRY - 9016L ($10.49 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] SKYY INFUSIONS CIRTUS - 9014L ($10.49 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] SKYY INFUSIONS PINEAPPLE - 9009L ($10.49 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] SKYY INFUSIONS WATERMELON - 8925L ($10.49 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] SMIRNOFF 90 - 9032L ($10.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] STOLI LIME - 6288B ($10.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] STOLICHNAYA - 9135M ($5.49 / 375 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] THREE OLIVES ROSE - 9306B ($8.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] U V BLUE RASPBERRY VODKA - 9371D ($10.49 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.50↓
- [D] U V CHERRY VODKA - 9375B ($5.49 / 750 ML) - $3.50↓
- [D] KAMCHATKA 90 - 5309B ($4.99 / 750 ML) - $3.30↓
- [D] STOLICHNAYA VARIETY PACK - 8974E ($4.99 / 600 ML) - $3.11↓
- [A] DEEP EDDY STRAIGHT VODKA - 2517D ($29.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] ABSOLUT ELYX ICY MARTINI VAP - 1603B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] BASIC VODKA - 0589L ($8.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] BELVEDERE SMOGORY FOREST - 0857B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] CRYSTAL PALACE VODKA - 5004L ($4.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] FINLANDIA BOTANICAL CUCUMBER & MINT - 3010B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] FINLANDIA BOTANICAL WILDBERRY & ROSE - 3045B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] GILBEYS VODKA TRV - 3579B ($4.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] GRAINGERS DELUXE ORGANIC VODKA - 3827L ($8.49 / 1 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] GREY GOOSE CHRRY NOIR - 3906B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] HOTEL TANGO VODKA - 4751B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] MUSCLE VODKA - 6695B ($16.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] NATURAL LIGHT STRAWBERRY LEMONADE VODKA - 5632B ($4.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] NEW AMSTERDAM GLUTEN FREE - 6766B ($8.49 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] ONE ROQ VODKA - 5852B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] PLATINUM 10X VODKA - 8824B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] SMIRNOFF 90 - 9032M ($4.99 / 375 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] SQUARE ONE - 9070B ($19.49 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] SQUARE ONE CUCUMBER - 9069B ($19.49 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] SVEDKA CITRON - 9163L ($8.99 / 1 Liter) - $3.00↓
- [D] THREE OLIVES PINEAPPLE - 9285B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] THREE OLIVES PINK GRAPEFRUIT - 9286B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] TRULY PINEAPPLE MANGO - 4330B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] TRULY STRAWBERRY LEMONADE FLAVORED VODKA - 4332B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] TRULY WILD BERRY FLAVORD VODKA - 4334B ($8.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] V ONE VODKA - 9477B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] WESTERN SON RASPBERRY VODKA - 8783B ($9.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [A] ABSOLUT COLORS - 0079B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $3.00↓
- [D] GEORGI GREEN APPLE VODKA - 8594L ($4.99 / 1 Liter) - $2.98↓
- [D] BASIC VODKA - 0589B ($7.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] BELVEDERE ORGANICS PEAR AND GINGER - 0821B ($16.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] HANGAR ONE - 3971B ($16.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] HANGAR ONE ROSE VODKA - 3970B ($16.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] PARAMOUNT ORANGE - 7728L ($7.49 / 1 Liter) - $2.50↓
- [D] PINNACLE 100 - 8252B ($8.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] REYKA RHUBARB COSMOPOLITAN RTD - 8465M ($7.99 / 375 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] SMIRNOFF CRANBERRY - 9025B ($7.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] SMIRNOFF SOURS GREEN APPLE - 8946B ($7.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] SMITHWORKS VODKA - 8874B ($7.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] SVEDKA CITRON VODKA - 9163B ($7.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] SVEDKA CLEMENTINE - 9165B ($7.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] SVEDKA PURE INFUSION DRAGONFRUIT MELON - 6284B ($7.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] SVEDKA PURE INFUSION GINGER LIME - 6285B ($7.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] SVEDKA RASPBERRY VODKA - 9161B ($7.99 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [D] WHITE DIAMOND VODKA - 9565B ($8.49 / 750 ML) - $2.50↓
- [A] BROKEN SHED VODKA - 1584B ($19.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] BURNETTS RASPBERRY - 1527B ($4.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] NEW AMSTERDAM - 6718D ($19.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [D] NEW AMSTERDAM GRAPEFRUIT - 6701B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] NEW AMSTERDAM ORANGE - 6721B ($6.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] NEW AMSTERDAM PEACH - 6719D ($19.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [A] NEW AMSTERDAM PINEAPPLE - 6722D ($19.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [D] NEW AMSTERDAM PINEAPPLE - 6722M ($3.49 / 375 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] OCEAN ORGANIC VODKA - 6741F ($2.99 / 50 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] PINNACLE CHERRY - 8244D ($17.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [D] PINNACLE CITRUS - 8238B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] PINNACLE LEMONADE LTO - 8101B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] PINNACLE PEACH - 8259B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] PINNACLE RASPBERRY - 8245B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] PINNACLE TROPICAL PUNCH - 8251B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] PINNACLE VODKA - 8243D ($17.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [A] PINNACLE WHIPPED - 8253D ($17.99 / 1.75 Liter) - $2.00↓
- [D] U V BLUE RASPBERRY VODKA - 9371B ($5.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [A] VOLTAGE PINK LEMONADE VODKA - 9427B ($17.99 / 750 ML) - $2.00↓
- [D] KAMCHATKA 90 - 5309M ($2.99 / 375 ML) - $1.50↓
- [D] SOBIESKI - 9046H ($2.49 / 200 ML) - $1.50↓
- [D] PRAIRIE CUCUMBER - 8310B ($10.99 / 750 ML) - $1.17↓
- [D] KORSKI - 5490B ($4.49 / 750 ML) - $1.02↓
- [D] NEW AMSTERDAM RED BERRY - 6715H ($1.99 / 200 ML) - $1.00↓
- [D] GORDONS VODKA - 5018L ($6.99 / 1 Liter) - $1.00↓
- [A] NEW AMSTERDAM - 6718B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] NEW AMSTERDAM PEACH - 6719B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [A] NEW AMSTERDAM PINK WHITNEY - 6765B ($11.99 / 750 ML) - $1.00↓
- [D] KETEL ONE BOTANICAL CUCUMBER & MINT - 5376F ($1.49 / 50 ML) - $0.51↓
- [D] KETEL ONE BOTANICAL GRAPEFRUIT & ROSE - 5375F ($1.49 / 50 ML) - $0.51↓
- [D] DEEP EDDY STRAIGHT VODKA - 2517F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.50↓
- [D] DEEP EDDY RUBY RED VODKA - 2526F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.50↓
- [D] VAN GOGH DESSERT EXPRESSIONS SAMPLER 4 PACK 50ML - 9459E ($2.49 / 600 ML) - $0.50↓
- [D] VAN GOGH FRUIT EXPRESSIONS SAMPLER 4 PACK 50ML - 9456E ($2.49 / 600 ML) - $0.50↓
- [D] ABSOLUT JUICE PEAR ELDERFLOWER - 0260F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- [D] ABSOLUT JUICE STRAWBERRY - 0258F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- [D] SVEDKA BLUE RASPBERRY 50ML - 8867F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- [D] TRULY PINEAPPLE MANGO VODKA - 4330F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- [D] TRULY STRAWBERRY LEMONADE VODKA - 4332F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- [D] TRULY WILD BERRY VODKA - 4334F ($0.99 / 50 ML) - $0.01↓
- Price increases
- [D] BURNETTS WHIPPED - 1540B ($4.99 / 750 ML) - $0.50↑
- [D] STOLICHNAYA - 9135F ($1.49 / 50 ML) - $0.50↑
- [D] HANGAR ONE KAFFIR LIME - 3975B ($16.49 / 750 ML) - $5.12↑
- [D] LIBERTY SPIRITS POTATO VODKA - 6155B ($14.99 / 750 ML) - $6.00↑
- Changed products
- [D] HIGH ROCK VODKA - 3325B ($23.99 / 750 ML) - Status changed from Special Order to De-Listed
- [D] TITOS HANDMADE VODKA SLIM BOTTLE - 1683D ($45.61 / 1.75 Liter) - Status changed from Active to De-Listed
2024.06.01 14:17 taowandering Asking for guidance on Primary and Secondary for filing next week
Looking for guidance on filing Claim (1st) next week. TIA!!
In Persian Gulf 02Aug90 - 30SEP90 - TERA, Reported Sarin use while ONSTA
Filed intent to file, June 2023
I have Dx and meds.
Do I need to specify primary and secondary?
I have VHA and Civi doc confirming.
Do I also file for Raynauds with pics or wait for Dx?
My list of Diagnoses - most confirmed within a year or so, almost all 5+ to 20 years.
Sorry, the timeline, as best as I can recall.
Nothing prior to service. IN Service: 1990 - Stress-induced asthma 1991 - 6 mos LIMDU s/p fall on ship, LBP, MRI findings. PhysTherapy found bilateral chondromalacia patella, deficit of leg strength Two Psych evals after chewing out CAPT DOC re: heal my back 1992 - 1993 A lot of inhalers and NSAIDS for back pain.
After Honorable: 1997 - VA - albuterol Asthma 2000 - Chronic Rhinitis, Sinusitis, Sleep Apnea Symptoms, Weight gain 2001 - Ride for 9/11 - SD to NYC, Police Escort, Tour Ground Zero still on fire, Numb + Avoidance 2002 - Gout, kidney stones 2004, 2005 - VA - Cardioversions x 2 + OSA CPAP + Hypertension + Borderline A1C @ 6.4, GERD 2006 - CIVI - Anxiety, Asthma, LBP, neck pain, TN, Paroxysmal Afib, CHF 2007 - Pain increased, MDD, Anxiety, Nasal Polyps, common sinus infections, persistent cough 2011 - VA - TIA, Gout+, Hypertension, Kidney Stones, Morbid Obesity 2012 - Divorce w/ profound anger, Isolation begins, Depression +, Lungs feel swollen, SOB 2014 - A1C ~7.0, weight gain, LBP worsens, OSA+CSA BIPAP 2016 - Restless Leg Syndrome, severe asthma, unable to perform job, 50% work 2017 - Nasal Polyps confirmed on MRI, IBS Sx, Shut in, Lost Engagement, Isolation, Max Singulair, Kenalog shot for allergic reactions and worsening breathing. 2020 Back and Neck Pain now CHRONIC, Anxiety Increased, Insomnia, Fatigue, SI, PTSD anger and guilt 2022 - Elevated BNP (confirms CHF), Angiogram for two artery 50% occlusion, PTSD and Insomnia go through the roof as I reduced Percocet from 40 mg/day to 20 mg/day. Psych confirms "compensating behaviors lost during 7 years of consistent Percocet use, Lyrica and Gabapentin both failed as I lost motor control and balance. Lost EOD training buddy to Lung Cancer. Effexor Maxed. Multiuse for rescue inhaler. 2023 - IBS worsens, GERD returns, SI, PTSD rated to 49, Unable to work regularly, physical labor only for 3-5 minutes, walking more than 100 years leads to breathlessness. Add steroid inhaler. 2024 - Afib to Chronic, Start PTSD and MDD counseling with VA
"These records - Dr. Nichols, MD - Show drug compliance, Constant Pain from Back, Recurring Gout and kidney stones, Development of severe lung issues, Rx History."
submitted by taowandering to VeteransBenefits [link] [comments]
In Persian Gulf 02Aug90 - 30SEP90 - TERA, Reported Sarin use while ONSTA
Filed intent to file, June 2023
I have Dx and meds.
Do I need to specify primary and secondary?
I have VHA and Civi doc confirming.
Do I also file for Raynauds with pics or wait for Dx?
My list of Diagnoses - most confirmed within a year or so, almost all 5+ to 20 years.
Sorry, the timeline, as best as I can recall.
Nothing prior to service. IN Service: 1990 - Stress-induced asthma 1991 - 6 mos LIMDU s/p fall on ship, LBP, MRI findings. PhysTherapy found bilateral chondromalacia patella, deficit of leg strength Two Psych evals after chewing out CAPT DOC re: heal my back 1992 - 1993 A lot of inhalers and NSAIDS for back pain.
After Honorable: 1997 - VA - albuterol Asthma 2000 - Chronic Rhinitis, Sinusitis, Sleep Apnea Symptoms, Weight gain 2001 - Ride for 9/11 - SD to NYC, Police Escort, Tour Ground Zero still on fire, Numb + Avoidance 2002 - Gout, kidney stones 2004, 2005 - VA - Cardioversions x 2 + OSA CPAP + Hypertension + Borderline A1C @ 6.4, GERD 2006 - CIVI - Anxiety, Asthma, LBP, neck pain, TN, Paroxysmal Afib, CHF 2007 - Pain increased, MDD, Anxiety, Nasal Polyps, common sinus infections, persistent cough 2011 - VA - TIA, Gout+, Hypertension, Kidney Stones, Morbid Obesity 2012 - Divorce w/ profound anger, Isolation begins, Depression +, Lungs feel swollen, SOB 2014 - A1C ~7.0, weight gain, LBP worsens, OSA+CSA BIPAP 2016 - Restless Leg Syndrome, severe asthma, unable to perform job, 50% work 2017 - Nasal Polyps confirmed on MRI, IBS Sx, Shut in, Lost Engagement, Isolation, Max Singulair, Kenalog shot for allergic reactions and worsening breathing. 2020 Back and Neck Pain now CHRONIC, Anxiety Increased, Insomnia, Fatigue, SI, PTSD anger and guilt 2022 - Elevated BNP (confirms CHF), Angiogram for two artery 50% occlusion, PTSD and Insomnia go through the roof as I reduced Percocet from 40 mg/day to 20 mg/day. Psych confirms "compensating behaviors lost during 7 years of consistent Percocet use, Lyrica and Gabapentin both failed as I lost motor control and balance. Lost EOD training buddy to Lung Cancer. Effexor Maxed. Multiuse for rescue inhaler. 2023 - IBS worsens, GERD returns, SI, PTSD rated to 49, Unable to work regularly, physical labor only for 3-5 minutes, walking more than 100 years leads to breathlessness. Add steroid inhaler. 2024 - Afib to Chronic, Start PTSD and MDD counseling with VA
- Heart
CAD - Coronary artery disease (SCT 53741008) DBQ + Angiogram + Stress tests
Chronic diastolic heart failure (SCT 441530006) DBQ + echo + Stress tests + Confirmed
Transient Ischemic Attack Apr 9,2011@11:44
I48.20 Chronic atrial fibrillation R79.89- Elevated brain natrluretic peptide (BNP) level 8/2/22
- Psych
Depression (SCT 35489007)
Anxiety (SCT 48694002)
PTSD Rated 49, Psychiatrist stated anxiety valid for life risk in Gulf Attack
G47.00- Insomnia Ongoing, Part of PTSD
- Neuro
Trigeminal neuralgia (SCT 31681005)
G89.4- Chronic pain syndrome
M79.2 - Neuralgia Part Back Pain
- Gut
R10.9- Abdominal cramping IBS - Dicyclomine
K21.9- GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disease) after meds jumped again
R11.0- Nausea Zofran
K59.00 - Constipation Part of IBS
- Ortho
M54.5 - Low back pain - CHRONIC 3-8 Naprosyn + 2 Aspirin 325 Daily
M542 Neck pain - CHRONIC 3-8 Naprosyn + 2 Aspirin 325 Daily
- Sleep
Obstructive Sleep Apnea of Adult (SCT 1101000119103) Twice confirmed OSA + CSA
J01.01- Acute recurrent maxilary sinusits Twice Daily flushes, 4-6 infections each year
R53.83- Fatigue
G25.81 - Restless leg syndrome confirmed in latest Sleep Study this month
R09.81 - Congestion of nasal sinus Twice Daily flushes, 4-6 infections each year
J309.- Allergic rhinitis - Chronic Twice Daily flushes, 4-6 infections each year
- Other
Diabetes Mellitus Type 2 (SCT 44054006) Hyperlipidemia (SCT 55822004)Last PCP noted from my Civilian records:
Gout (SCT 90560007)
Morbid obesity (SCT 238136002) Met with Nutrition team and lost weight
"These records - Dr. Nichols, MD - Show drug compliance, Constant Pain from Back, Recurring Gout and kidney stones, Development of severe lung issues, Rx History."
2024.06.01 09:51 Critical_Clothes2737 What are the risk factors for developing prostate cancer?
Several factors may increase the risk of developing prostate cancer. While some risk factors, such as age and family history, cannot be changed, others, such as lifestyle choices, may be modifiable. Here are the main risk factors associated with prostate cancer:
Age: The risk of prostate cancer increases with age, with the majority of cases occurring in men over the age of 50. It is rare in men younger than 40 but becomes more common as men get older.
Family History: Having a family history of prostate cancer, particularly in a first-degree relative (father, brother), increases the risk of developing the disease. The risk is even higher if multiple relatives are affected or if the cancer was diagnosed at a younger age.
Race/Ethnicity: Prostate cancer occurs more frequently in African American men than in men of other racial or ethnic groups. It tends to be more aggressive and diagnosed at a later stage in African American men. Additionally, Caribbean men of African descent also have an increased risk.
Genetic Factors: Inherited genetic mutations, such as mutations in the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes, may increase the risk of prostate cancer. Mutations in these genes are more commonly associated with hereditary breast and ovarian cancer but can also increase the risk of prostate cancer, particularly in men with a family history of the disease.
Dietary Factors: Some studies suggest that diets high in red meat, processed meat, or high in calcium may be associated with an increased risk of prostate cancer. Conversely, diets rich in fruits, vegetables, and foods containing certain antioxidants may be associated with a lower risk.
Obesity: Obesity may be associated with an increased risk of developing advanced or aggressive prostate cancer. It is believed that excess body fat, particularly around the abdomen, may promote inflammation and hormonal changes that can contribute to cancer development.
Occupational Exposure: Occupational exposure to certain chemicals, such as cadmium or Agent Orange, may increase the risk of prostate cancer. For example, firefighters, farmers, and workers in the rubber industry may have a higher risk due to exposure to certain chemicals or pesticides.
Sexually Transmitted Infections: Some studies suggest a possible link between sexually transmitted infections (STIs), such as gonorrhea or chlamydia, and an increased risk of prostate cancer. However, more research is needed to understand the relationship between STIs and prostate cancer risk.
It's important to note that having one or more risk factors does not necessarily mean you will develop prostate cancer, and many men with prostate cancer do not have any known risk factors. Regular screening for prostate cancer, including digital rectal exams (DRE) and prostate-specific antigen (PSA) blood tests, can help detect the disease early when treatment is most effective. Additionally, maintaining a healthy lifestyle, including a balanced diet, regular exercise, and avoiding tobacco use, may help reduce the risk of prostate cancer.
submitted by Critical_Clothes2737 to u/Critical_Clothes2737 [link] [comments]
Age: The risk of prostate cancer increases with age, with the majority of cases occurring in men over the age of 50. It is rare in men younger than 40 but becomes more common as men get older.
Family History: Having a family history of prostate cancer, particularly in a first-degree relative (father, brother), increases the risk of developing the disease. The risk is even higher if multiple relatives are affected or if the cancer was diagnosed at a younger age.
Race/Ethnicity: Prostate cancer occurs more frequently in African American men than in men of other racial or ethnic groups. It tends to be more aggressive and diagnosed at a later stage in African American men. Additionally, Caribbean men of African descent also have an increased risk.
Genetic Factors: Inherited genetic mutations, such as mutations in the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes, may increase the risk of prostate cancer. Mutations in these genes are more commonly associated with hereditary breast and ovarian cancer but can also increase the risk of prostate cancer, particularly in men with a family history of the disease.
Dietary Factors: Some studies suggest that diets high in red meat, processed meat, or high in calcium may be associated with an increased risk of prostate cancer. Conversely, diets rich in fruits, vegetables, and foods containing certain antioxidants may be associated with a lower risk.
Obesity: Obesity may be associated with an increased risk of developing advanced or aggressive prostate cancer. It is believed that excess body fat, particularly around the abdomen, may promote inflammation and hormonal changes that can contribute to cancer development.
Occupational Exposure: Occupational exposure to certain chemicals, such as cadmium or Agent Orange, may increase the risk of prostate cancer. For example, firefighters, farmers, and workers in the rubber industry may have a higher risk due to exposure to certain chemicals or pesticides.
Sexually Transmitted Infections: Some studies suggest a possible link between sexually transmitted infections (STIs), such as gonorrhea or chlamydia, and an increased risk of prostate cancer. However, more research is needed to understand the relationship between STIs and prostate cancer risk.
It's important to note that having one or more risk factors does not necessarily mean you will develop prostate cancer, and many men with prostate cancer do not have any known risk factors. Regular screening for prostate cancer, including digital rectal exams (DRE) and prostate-specific antigen (PSA) blood tests, can help detect the disease early when treatment is most effective. Additionally, maintaining a healthy lifestyle, including a balanced diet, regular exercise, and avoiding tobacco use, may help reduce the risk of prostate cancer.
2024.06.01 09:22 theresawade1000 Medicare part D added
My Humana part D prescription plan has approved my Wegovy for me for weight loss with heart disease. Govt approved for heart disease and overweight - all part d plans will be required to cover it next year. Some are covering now. Ironically my insurance agent told me it wasn’t covered, but I had my doc send a script anyway and it was approved! .
submitted by theresawade1000 to OzempicForWeightLoss [link] [comments]
2024.06.01 09:19 Critical_Clothes2737 Prostate cancer - Symptoms and causes
Prostate cancer is a type of cancer that develops in the prostate gland, which is a small gland located below the bladder in men. The prostate gland produces seminal fluid that nourishes and transports sperm. Prostate cancer is one of the most common types of cancer in men, but it often grows slowly and may not cause noticeable symptoms in the early stages. However, as the cancer progresses, symptoms may develop. Additionally, some men may experience symptoms related to non-cancerous conditions of the prostate. Here are the symptoms and causes of prostate cancer:
Symptoms of Prostate Cancer:
Urinary Symptoms: Prostate cancer can cause changes in urinary habits due to its location near the urethra, which carries urine from the bladder out of the body. Symptoms may include:
Frequent urination, especially at night (nocturia)
Difficulty starting urination
Weak or interrupted urine flow
Pain or burning sensation during urination
Blood in the urine (hematuria) or semen
Erectile Dysfunction: Prostate cancer may affect erectile function, leading to difficulties achieving or maintaining an erection.
Pain: Advanced prostate cancer that has spread to nearby tissues or bones may cause pain in the pelvic area, lower back, hips, or other parts of the body.
Bone Pain: If prostate cancer metastasizes (spreads) to the bones, it can cause bone pain, particularly in the spine, hips,
or ribs.
Weakness or Numbness in the Legs or Feet: Rarely, prostate cancer that has spread to the spinal cord may cause weakness or numbness in the legs or feet, along with bowel or bladder dysfunction.
It's important to note that these symptoms can also be caused by non-cancerous conditions such as benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH) or prostatitis (inflammation of the prostate gland). However, if you experience any persistent or concerning symptoms, especially if you are at increased risk for prostate cancer (e.g., older age, family history), it's essential to consult a healthcare professional for evaluation and appropriate testing.
Causes and Risk Factors of Prostate Cancer:
The exact cause of prostate cancer is not known, but several risk factors may increase the likelihood of developing the disease. These include:
Age: The risk of prostate cancer increases with age, with the majority of cases occurring in men over 50 years old.
Family History: Men with a family history of prostate cancer, especially if the cancer occurred in a father or brother, have an increased risk of developing the disease themselves.
Race/Ethnicity: Prostate cancer occurs more frequently in African American men than in men of other racial or ethnic groups. It tends to be more aggressive and diagnosed at a later stage in African American men.
Genetic Factors: Inherited genetic mutations, such as mutations in the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes, may increase the risk of prostate cancer.
Dietary Factors: Some studies suggest that diets high in red meat or high in calcium may be associated with an increased risk of prostate cancer, although more research is needed to confirm this link.
Obesity: Obesity may be associated with an increased risk of developing advanced or aggressive prostate cancer.
Exposure to Certain Chemicals: Occupational exposure to certain chemicals, such as cadmium or Agent Orange, may increase the risk of prostate cancer.
It's important to note that having one or more risk factors does not necessarily mean you will develop prostate cancer, and many men with prostate cancer do not have any known risk factors. Regular screening for prostate cancer, including digital rectal exams (DRE) and prostate-specific antigen (PSA) blood tests, can help detect the disease early when treatment is most effective.
submitted by Critical_Clothes2737 to u/Critical_Clothes2737 [link] [comments]
Symptoms of Prostate Cancer:
Urinary Symptoms: Prostate cancer can cause changes in urinary habits due to its location near the urethra, which carries urine from the bladder out of the body. Symptoms may include:
Frequent urination, especially at night (nocturia)
Difficulty starting urination
Weak or interrupted urine flow
Pain or burning sensation during urination
Blood in the urine (hematuria) or semen
Erectile Dysfunction: Prostate cancer may affect erectile function, leading to difficulties achieving or maintaining an erection.
Pain: Advanced prostate cancer that has spread to nearby tissues or bones may cause pain in the pelvic area, lower back, hips, or other parts of the body.
Bone Pain: If prostate cancer metastasizes (spreads) to the bones, it can cause bone pain, particularly in the spine, hips,
or ribs.
Weakness or Numbness in the Legs or Feet: Rarely, prostate cancer that has spread to the spinal cord may cause weakness or numbness in the legs or feet, along with bowel or bladder dysfunction.
It's important to note that these symptoms can also be caused by non-cancerous conditions such as benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH) or prostatitis (inflammation of the prostate gland). However, if you experience any persistent or concerning symptoms, especially if you are at increased risk for prostate cancer (e.g., older age, family history), it's essential to consult a healthcare professional for evaluation and appropriate testing.
Causes and Risk Factors of Prostate Cancer:
The exact cause of prostate cancer is not known, but several risk factors may increase the likelihood of developing the disease. These include:
Age: The risk of prostate cancer increases with age, with the majority of cases occurring in men over 50 years old.
Family History: Men with a family history of prostate cancer, especially if the cancer occurred in a father or brother, have an increased risk of developing the disease themselves.
Race/Ethnicity: Prostate cancer occurs more frequently in African American men than in men of other racial or ethnic groups. It tends to be more aggressive and diagnosed at a later stage in African American men.
Genetic Factors: Inherited genetic mutations, such as mutations in the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes, may increase the risk of prostate cancer.
Dietary Factors: Some studies suggest that diets high in red meat or high in calcium may be associated with an increased risk of prostate cancer, although more research is needed to confirm this link.
Obesity: Obesity may be associated with an increased risk of developing advanced or aggressive prostate cancer.
Exposure to Certain Chemicals: Occupational exposure to certain chemicals, such as cadmium or Agent Orange, may increase the risk of prostate cancer.
It's important to note that having one or more risk factors does not necessarily mean you will develop prostate cancer, and many men with prostate cancer do not have any known risk factors. Regular screening for prostate cancer, including digital rectal exams (DRE) and prostate-specific antigen (PSA) blood tests, can help detect the disease early when treatment is most effective.
2024.06.01 09:03 UtsavD93 PRESENTING YAQI SOAPS
 | All Soaps are 170gms each submitted by UtsavD93 to Wetshavers_India [link] [comments] Price INR 2200/- (Inclusive of all) Splashes cannot be sourced You can reach out to me for the order Order will be placed on Monday, so one needs to finalize by Sunday evening (tomorrow) , since I will not be able to accept orders post that as I will be relocating to a new place soon YAQI presented a new set of nine soaps created in collaboration with “Master Soap Creation”. The composition of the soap, based on tallow, has been improved with the introduction of butters and oils for excellent lubrication and great post-shave comfort. The fragrances recall those of famous perfumes but also surprise with some original combinations. The soap foams very easily, just a few turns of the brush were enough to load it enough to obtain abundant, emollient, lubricating and very fragrant foam. The aftershave, with the same fragrance as the soap, completed the shaving by hydrating and softening the skin... it's nice to start the day like this!! https://preview.redd.it/n3015b6osw3d1.jpg?width=1200&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3caf95602dbe0d8e6a195d98ded97690c29da9df Bettie Bets Is a homage to the unresistable Versace Pour Homme. This scent is beautifully blended and has been created from essential ingredients of Mediterranean origin with the potential to convey through aromatic notes the character of the man of today: knowledgeable and self confident, he has the ability to live his life in a harmonious relationship with the natural world. Dynamic and entrepreneurial, the scent communicates his forceful and passionate character through a decidedly masculine fragrance which can be best described as Aromatic Fougere Woody. Top notes of Bergamot, Neroli, Citron of Diamante, Bitter Orange Leaves; heart notes are Geranium, Clary Sage, Blue Hyacinth, Cedar Wood; base notes of Oud wood, Mineral Amber, Tonka Beans, Musk. Black Pearl Is a homage to the ever so popular Sauvage fragrance experience a collage of…Top notes Calabrian bergamot and Pepper; middle notes are Sichuan Pepper, Lavender, Pink Pepper, Vetiver, Patchouli, Geranium and Elemi; base notes are Ambroxan, Cedar and Labdanum .Dragon Is a homage to Tom Ford Fougère D'Argent, this fragrance exudes decadence and luxury. An unabashedly bold, this fougere scent is a legend redux that converges impeccable decorum with the modus operandi of an agent provocateur. Fougere that is an exquisite work of beauty. Top notes are Lavender, Ginger and Mandarin Orange; middle notes are Akigalawood and Labdanum; base note is Coumarin. Franken Scent Yip you guessed it Franken Scent is a Master blend of exotic fragrances from around the globe... This scent comes together beautifully and is highlighted with a unique fresh Leather note that will have you intrigued for days.Lost Treasure Is a homage to One Million an intensely masculine scent with sundressed charm. Top notes are Blood Mandarin, Grapefruit and Mint; middle notes are Cinnamon, Spicy Notes and Rose; base notes are Amber, Leather, Woody Notes and Indian Patchouli. Ouds Is a homage to the gorgeous smelling Gucci's Oud...This irresistible scent was Inspired by exotic voyages from a time past, Gucci Oud is an opulent, new scent. Crafted from a reimagined blend of traditional eastern ingredients, the modern unisex fragrance is rich, sensual and unmistakably Gucci. Top notes of Pear, Raspberry and Saffron; heart notes of Bulgarian Rose and Orange Flower; base notes of natural Oud oil and Patchouli. Psychedelic Is a mix of possibly the best scents available to man... It combines the brightness and boldness of top scents and grounded with a Biscoti note that bring this amazing concoction to a new level of psychedelic goodness. Smoking Aces Is a homage to the very popular VIP 212 for men and for good reason this stuff smells amazing and even that would be putting it lightly...This scent was created for a new generation reinventing the city this fragrance penetrates the noise with an unforgettable modern fragrance. Its an irresistible elixir of seduction… reserved only for those who dare! A signature scent that you will recognize on the dance floor and won’t forget once you leave the party. Gustative, woody and spicy, inspired by the scent and attitude of the most exclusive parties. The oriental woody composition is an explosive cocktail of Vodka, Passion Fruit, Frozen Mint, Ginger, Black Pepper, Lime Caviar, Leather, Spices, Amber and King Wood. Velvet Rose Is a homage to the stunning fragrance Velvet Rose by Jo Malone... This fragrance is intoxicatingly good... And will have you turning heads where ever you go... It's smells of Dark Damask Rose. Rich and textural, wrapped with smoky oud wood. Spiked with clove, decadent with praline. Unbelievably good. Top notes are Rose and Patchouli; middle notes are Labdanum and Musk; base notes are Amber and Musk. |
2024.06.01 07:56 Frame_Late Unburdened: A Job Gone Wrong.
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The following two brain scans were provided by the Neuro-Warfare branch of the Halcyon Security Division (HSD) for the purpose of analyzing the thoughts, behaviors, and information of notorious gangsters Vincent 'Troy' Cohen and Bruno (Deadname:Koraak Tel-Char). At the point of the recording of this archival shared, Bruno has since received his rebirth therapy, and Vincent is currently serving a long-term rehabilitative and reeducative sentence in the Erebus Supermax Prison on Io.
Warning: the contents of this archival shared may be especially disturbing to some audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.
Warning: the contents of this archival shard are for the sole purpose of analyzing the thought patterns and memories of certain degenerate criminals in an effort to ascertain vital information that can be used to eliminate their organizations. Only staff with clearance level Omega may view this archival shared, and the viewership of this archival shared by anyone of inadequate clearance level will lead to twenty years in prison and a fine of over a hundred thousand credits.
Booting up memory scan: Vincent 'Troy' Cohen, November 4th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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"Do you have visuals of the target, Troy?"
I knelt down in the alleyway, the bodies of me and my partners shrouded in long, waterproof, ashen-gray overcoats the shade of dirty street scum that we wore to ward off the constant heavy rainfall the color of osmium. Our faces were covered in a mix of scrapped respirators, visors, or full metal face masks carved with intricate designs to hide our identities. On our waists were our badges of honor: leather belts studded with interlocked rivets made from blackened titanium, each buckle forged of silver and shaped into the head of our gang's symbol, the black mamba. We hid amongst the shadows of the dark midday of Halcyon City, the heavy, oppressive rains blanketing the roads paved obsidian-black with asphalt and weathered concrete walkways. The street lamps were always on, like beacons of false hope in a storm of melancholy.
The city was dark and dreary as always, the planet of Proxima Centauri B, renamed Dawn's Lamentation over a century ago, orbited the red dwarf star of Proxima Centauri, and the atmosphere was thick with natural smog and ever-storming rain clouds. That didn't dissuade people from living here: there was plenty of money to be had for shrewd industrialists and hardworking pioneers, even in the urban sprawl. But that life also came with risks, especially for those on the bottom of the totem pole.
I was a ganger, and we were criminals; full stop. I won't assault you with some spiel about how we're the good guys fighting oppression because, at the end of the day, we could be just as bad, if not worse, than Halcyon's Security Division, or the HSD for short. We were traffickers, killers, extortionists, and money launderers. We dealt with everything from stolen tech and military-grade hardware to hard drugs and sentients.
Yes, sentients. We trafficked sentients, but not in the way you might think. They weren't prisoners, in fact, we were their saviors if they had the cash. We had developed a reputation for fighting the power, but it was still business: sure, freeing captives from the clutches of the Protectorate. The disruption of its many oppressive organizations held a certain satisfaction in my heart for sure, but we didn't help those who couldn't pay unless someone else paid on their behalf. It was about making sure me and my gang, my family, could live a decent life for another day.
It helped that most of us joined after leaving the state yard for partaking in acts of 'degeneracy' and 'anti-xenopet illegalities' as if those terms meant anything anymore other than that we were a threat to the local status quo. It was hard to pick up a job as a former inmate when even in something as harsh and backbreaking as a job in the iridium mines near the poles when the employment office had you blacklisted as a degenerate, which lead to the formation of many of the gangs: we needed to make a living somehow, and when all social programs were cut off from you unless you submitted for 're-education' and the only way to put food on the table was subverting, breaking, or even downright fighting the law, you did what you had to do or you died on the streets a scorned beggar.
It wasn't like the HSD made it easy for us on even a good day: the local HSD units were armed to the teeth with advanced, military-grade hardware that you'd often see on the front lines of the Second Authority War: armored assault transports, a myriad of advanced war droids, all sorts of chemical countermeasures that made tear gas seem like putting the garden hose on mist mode, and of course advanced firearms. Add that to the fact that they were authorized to use deadly force when they deemed it necessary and you had a ruthless, heartless, and nearly unstoppable enemy. But we could make that work: we weren't trying to stop them, just to withstand them.
"Yeah, I got eyes on the prize, Koraak; seven armored transports, two for droids, five for prisoners."
Today wasn't a day for a normal job: we were getting bolder, cockier, more ambitious. Our numbers had swelled for the last few years after the raid at Barnard's Star and the fall of the Blood Dragon Mafia. Their leader, Saito Yasuhide, had committed seppuku as their manor burned, and his twin sons had gone down fighting rather than allowing themselves to be captured simply to face a firing squad. In the aftermath, many of the family's associates had fled to the surrounding systems, and with the sheer size and scope of the criminal underworld found here, it was no wonder that many people who had developed skills of the less legal variety had decided to form ranks with the gangs, and with them they brought guns, tech, knowledge, contacts, and even something that we thought wasn't possible beforehand: a semblance of peace between the gangs, or at least the closest thing to peace that gangs could cultivate effectively. With the fall of the Blood Dragons, we saw the writing on the wall, and the writing couldn't have been clearer: work together or die together.
"Sounds like a massacre, Troy: are you sure we can handle seven?"
"We ain't got no choice, Cinder: this job's double the usual rate, and that's not including the weapons and gear we could scrounge if this goes well," I hissed, my eyes scanning for any resistance. There were at least four guards for each van, not to mention at least eight droids in total, meaning that we were already outnumbered, but we had the element of surprise: we could make it work. "So put your balls in your purse and get ready to spill some blood."
Koraak snorted at our antics, which sounded like someone pulling the ripcord on a lawnmower. He was a veteran Russu Corsair, and while his past of slaving, raiding, and killing was unsavory, so were the lives we'd lived, so who were we to judge? All we cared about was that he was a brutal and capable fighter and a loyal brother in arms. It turned out that being a ganger wasn't much different from being a Corsair: you lived and died by a code of honor, you fought to the death for your brothers, and you lived to die for the sake of your gang and your family, simple as that. In a strange, ironic way, it was an incredibly honest way of life: we were under no illusions as to what we were, what we did, and why we did it, and we'd long since accepted it. The Russu related to us in that aspect, in many ways I could respect, which is why I hated what the Protectorate was doing, and why I couldn't grasp how most of humanity could just collectively lose their marbles so long ago. What had happened for us to deem all other life below us in such a demeaning and infantilizing way?
The Russu were a race of tall, muscle-bound Saurians with avian features, and Koraak was no exception: reaching almost seven feet in height and weighing over four hundred and fifty pounds, he could be an absolute menace if he so desired. His skin was covered in stubby, knobby scales and dense plumage, with elegant feathers adorning the ridges along his back as well as his forearms, elbows, knees, and the crests on his head. He almost looked like how paleontologists described velociraptors, with razor-sharp talons, feathers shaded in vibrant greens, reds, and purples, and a maw full of sharp teeth, but at the tip of his snout was a sharp, beak-like growth meant for ripping flesh off the bone.
The Russu were strange as hell, but they also looked almost cute in the same way a fully grown alligator was cute: they were obviously dangerous, but humans would always have this innate desire to anthropomorphize them and to pet them for some inexplicable reason, although common sense usually prevented that, at least amongst the very few of us left that were sane.
"Shut up, Troy! All I'm saying is that that'll be rough, and you know it," hissed Cinder. Cinder was a tall black man whose coffee-colored skin was covered in tattoos. He wore an ebony mechanic's jumpsuit with metal inserts underneath his grimy overcoat covering his body and a faded black respirator on his face. His eyes were a startling blue that seemed sorely out of place, and his hair was braided into thick cornrows along his scalp. He wore a pair of heavy black combat boots and palmed his compact shotgun in his hands, the square barrel less than seven inches. Like a lot of the weapons the Black Mambas carried on their persons and dealt in, they fired caseless ammunition; in Cinder's case it was 16x40mm caseless shotshells filled with depleted uranium micro-flechetes no thicker than a toothpick. Cinder nervously fiddled with the detachable tube magazine underneath the barrel, his hands shaking. Despite the shit I have him, I didn't blame him for being anxious: I was anxious too, even if I refused to show it. The biting cold of unease and pessimism was in my stomach, and I ran all the way that this job could go wrong in my head over and over.
"Just hold yourself together, this ain't anything we haven't done before, there's just more of it," I reassured Cinder, "besides, we're not alone; we have reinforcements across the street. We'll make it out of this alive."
Cinder nodded almost absentmindedly, his eyes downcast and his breathing shallow. I turned from him and back to Koraak, who was making sure he had everything on his person; he had a synthetic leather bandoleer across his chest that contained the heavy eight guage depleted uranium slugs he kept loading and unloading into his much larger, longer, and more traditional shotgun he nicknamed ‘carnage’ and several leather straps that held his Tu'shan daggers: traditional Russu pyramidal blades forged from a silvery alloy with all three edges serrated and the tip barbed to leave behind horrible, gaping wounds that gushed blood. They were wickedly sharp and absolutely straight like a stiletto, and the hilts and pommels were beautifully decorated. He wore no clothes underneath his overcoat to cover the countless scars and blemishes he's earned in combat across his chest and abdomen, and instead of a normal respirator or visor, he simply wore a hood over his head and some traditional Russu facial armor to protect his mouth, eyes, and cheeks.
"You ready to fight, Koraak? The caravan will pick up and leave soon."
Koraak was silent for a moment before nodding, a human gesture he had picked up after serving as a soldier with the Black Mambas for years. "I'm always ready to fight," he said before lifting up his shotgun and aiming down the sights at the reinforced front wheels of the first armored car in the caravan. He exhaled and fired, the slug ripping through both front tires and causing them to deflate and fall apart. The echo of the shot rang through the alleyway and the street, causing pedestrians to panic and flee the scene as heavily armored guards poured out of the side doors of the armored cars and unholstered their carbines.
"Go, now!" I shouted, and both me and Cinder rushed out into the fray, our guns raised. Koraak was right behind the two of us, providing covering fire with his shotgun. Several guards fell quickly, Koraak's precise fire and the sheer force of the depleted uranium slugs putting them down for good as their heads were vaporized or their chest cavities were turned to mush. He emptied the tube with one final shot that painted the grey matter of a security guard on the door of one of the armored cars, then racked the shotgun and expertly loaded it in threes, his hands deft and agile as he reached for more slugs faster than any human.
With the cacophony of our initial assault, more Black Mambas poured out from the alleyways and the subways, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons; shotguns, submachine guns, pistols, machetes, baseball bats, and all manner of homemade explosives. Molotovs and more potent concoctions shattered against the asphalt, herding in the caravan guards with their volatile contents as they were quickly gunned down. The assault was working, and we were winning.
Then I heard the robotic whine of a combat droid activating, and my heart sank. One of the armored cars in the back activated the four combat droids it held, the robotic assault units detaching from their charging ports on the sides of the large van and began to form up, each armed with a terrifying array of deadly weapons meant to quash any and all resistance. They were blocky, soulless, utilitarian things that stood at eight feet tall, with flat feet meant for stomping and blades, grasping claws designed to lacerate flesh and shatter bone. On each shoulder was a weapon: on the left was a multi-barrel rotary grenade launcher loaded with 15mm concussion grenades, and on the right was a burst-fire splinter cannon. They were all painted a dull grayish-green, the color of Halcyon's Security Division, although some had a few decorations on them: the one closest to me had a bit of graffiti on the side that said Mr. Hugs in Comic Sans, which I couldn't decide whether that made it more or less terrifying. They split up without hesitation and began to scan the chaotic battlefield, their single, red, beady lenses the security forces had the gall to call eyes focusing on specific targets to eliminate.
An entire group of Black Mambas was torn to pieces by a cloud of flechettes as one of the droids fired a withering three-round burst of shotshells from the four gauge splinter cannon mounted on its shoulder. Another picked up a Black Mamba in its hand and crushed her skull effortlessly before tossing her limp body to the side, its single, red, remorseless robotic eye tracking a new target. Most bullets that struck their thick armored chassis simply bounced off, and those that could pierce the armor didn't seem to phase the droids whatsoever, merely notifying them of a new potential target.
"Damnit," I shouted as I gunned down another guard only for two more to take his place. "Cinder! We gotta pop open the cars and scram! Get the maglock cutters!"
Cinder rushed and slid over through a dirty puddle, pulling out a maglock cutter from the inside of his coat and slipping it onto the back door of the first van. It immediately went to work, drilling through the maglock with a high-powered plasma torch nozzle, and within ten seconds we heard the telltale clunk of the maglock separating. I yanked the door open and ordered I side, ready to escort the prisoners out… only for my face to contort in shock and horror.
The back was empty. There was not a single soul inside of the back brig of the armored car.
"What the fuck…" Cinder gasped, his eyes wide with shock. "What the actual fuck… what the fuck is this, Troy?"
"I… I don't…" I stuttered the sounds of battle and carnage drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in my ears. All five cars were supposed to be filled with recently captured Russu from the front lines ready to be housed in the local Xenopet-Megaplex for processing and conditioning. The fact that this one was empty…
Suddenly, it all hit me at once with the force of a freight train, but it was too late. "We were set up, Cinder; our fucking client either squealed or was crooked to begin with…"
"Fucking bitch!" Cinder shouted as he spun around in an enraged arch, anger growing in his eyes. He aimed his shotgun at an approaching security guard and reduced his upper body to a fine red mist with a cacophony of shotgun blasts. "We gotta get everyone who's left out of here! Do you know what this means? The Jurors will be here soon, and then we're all going down! We gotta go, fuck the job!"
I grit my teeth. Not the Jurors, anything but the Jurors.
"Fine, gather everyone who's left and we'll slip through the sewers, the droids are too bulky to follow us there…"
As I spoke, my eyes wandered to the seventh and final armored car, the second of the droid cars, and my blood froze. Not only were all four ports empty, but they were also smaller and more shallow than the ports for the combat droids. That could only mean one thing.
"Oh fuck! Cinder, we gotta get our Russu members out of here! They've got arachnid droids!"
Arachnid droids were the stuff of nightmares. Resembling blocky, robotic arachnids the size of a manhole cover, they were specifically designed to take down sentient aliens, specifically the Russu, using sickeningly non-lethal means. They were equipped with full-body adaptive cloaking to blend in with their environments, paralytic agents that they could inject into their victims, built-in taser barbs, psychedelic gas ports for crowd-control, and a narrow-coned cacophony canon that disabled the Russu using incredibly high-pitched sounds that only they could hear, forcing them onto their knees and clutching the backs of their heads where their auditory organs were stored in agony. But worst of all was their stygian spinnerets: special ports near the end of their robotic abdomens that excreted a viscous, latex-like substance made up of millions of nano-bots. This substance could be used to render Russu blind, deaf, and mute by having it forced onto their faces, the black substance growing and enveloping their heads and working its way into every orifice. It was completely permeable to the standard atmosphere, but any Russu who had been 'webbed' was completely helpless and essentially captured, and the 'webbing' was both nearly indestructible and nigh impossible to remove without a triple-encrypted override key that was found in every arachnid droid's code, which was corrupted when the droid was destroyed or hacked into. Once you were 'webbed', you were essentially captured and the standard protocol was to leave you to the wolves since the nano-bots could be tracked, endangering the entire gang.
I turned just as I heard the deafening sound of Koraak discharging his shotgun, and I saw him squaring off against one of the assault droids. The droid has obviously been programmed to not use lethal force against Russu if possible, as instead of simply killing Koraak with it's shoulder-mounted splinter cannon, it approached with its claws extended, blades retracted. Koraak continued to back away and fire, pumping the droid full of depleted uranium slugs, its armor crumbling inward as the slugs pierced its chassis and damaged its internal cyberstructure. Eventually, Koraak ran out of slugs and instinctively reached to his bandoleer only to find that he had no more shells left at all, and he drew one of his knives and his sidearm, a simple high-caliber handgun. He tried to take down the droid with his handgun, but the bullets didn't even seem to affect the droid upon penetration, it's claws still extended as it attempted to apprehend Koraak.
In the corner of my vision, as I watched Koraak battle with the droid, I noticed a faint shimmer in the air on one of the black streetlight poles that was right behind him. I focused on it and blinked, believing my eyes had deceived me for a moment before realizing that it was actually a cloaked arachnid droid stalking Korvaak, ready to pounce and incapacitate him.
Before I could shout, it leaped from the pole and landed on Korvaak, causing him to shout in surprise while it began to coagulate its horrifying stygian webbing to disable Korvaak. Korvaak tried to wrestle it off of him, but the droid was agile and fast, clinging onto Korvaak and skittering around across his upper body as he attempted to grab it, forcibly wrapping the sticky black liquid across his face as he gagged like a spider wrapping up a fly. I rushed towards him to try and help, but I felt pain explode in my ribs as I was struck with the arm of the closest combat droid and launched into the chassis of a parked car, the metal denting from the sheer force of impact. I groaned in pain as I saw stars and my head spun, and just then I felt a blinding light be cast over me.
“Drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head, or you will be pacified with deadly force!” Shouted a loud, artificially deepened voice from above. “I repeat, drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head! Neither hostility nor hesitation will be tolerated!”
It was the Jurors, I could feel the air being pushed around from the thrusters on their drop ships, and I could hear screams and shouts as my fellow Black Mambas were quickly gunned down. I couldn’t see well since I was seeing double, but I could hear the slaughter as my eyes dimmed and I began to lose consciousness, my regrets crawling up my throat like vomit.
I’m sorry was all I could think as everything finally went dark, and the sounds of chaos, destruction, and combat faded away.
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Memory halted due to loss of consciousness. Booting next available memory in shard…
Booting up memory scan: Koraak Tel-Char Bruno, November 5th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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“Good morning, sleepyhead; it’s time for breakfast.”
My eyes shot open. I was not in the street anymore, nor was I home in my bed with my mate. I knew instantly that something was horribly wrong. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t gain the leverage to do so: my ankles had been shackled together with magnetic cuffs and my arms were forced together in front of me.
I was wearing some kind of thick shirt. It was warm, fluffy, and comfortable on the inside, but it still made me incredibly uncomfortable that my arms didn’t have a free range of motion. I looked down to see that I was wearing some human garment I had heard about before, a straightjacket maybe?
The entire room was padded: the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. There was no bed or furniture; the floor was soft enough to serve as a bed in itself. There was nothing else except for the soft reddish-orange lights on the ceiling that somehow made me sleepy. I blinked slowly for a moment, my body screaming at me to just lay back down and lose consciousness, but I couldn’t do that: I needed to figure out where I was and how to escape.
Then I noticed who was speaking to me: it was a short human female, with crow's feet around her blue eyes, blonde hair braided down her back, and freckles all over her face. She had a soft smile on her lips, and her forehead was slightly crinkled. She wore a full-body white lab suit with a white overcoat and a pair of glasses for snugly on her face.
"There we go, now I can see those pretty eyes, such a beautiful shade of teal," she cooed softly, "You're such a handsome boy, even with all those scars: I'm sure you'll be adopted very quickly once we get you fixed up."
Fear gripped my heart as I began to piece all the evidence together. I had been captured; I was no longer on Halcyon, and instead, I was in one of the horrific space-born facilities I had heard so much about from the inside agents. I started to hyperventilate and squawk like a newborn hatchling, my eyes dilating in panic. This couldn't be happening! This has to be a nightmare!
The human woman merely wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace, cradling my head under her chin and speaking softly. I couldn't bite at her or claw at her: I was muzzled and wearing a straight jacket, so I had no choice but to allow her to coddle me.
"It's okay, sweetheart: I understand you're scared, but Julie's here to make all the pain and bad thoughts go away," she said as if she was comforting a child, which made anger blossom in my chest indignantly. "I'll be your caretaker for the next few months, and I'm going to make sure you're healthy, happy, and most importantly safe while you're under our care. I'm sorry to say that includes your restraints and restrictive clothing, but we have to make sure you aren't a threat to yourself or others before we can determine if it's a good idea to remove you from suicide watch."
I growled under my muzzle. Suicide watch? They must have had a lot of instances of Russu taking their own lives after being captured, something I wished I had been able to do before that damnable droid launched itself onto me and…
I shuddered at the thought of the black, viscous substance forcing itself into my nostrils and down my throat and windpipe, gagging me and rendering me completely helpless. It was so cold, so harsh, like slime, and when I had tried to tear it off of my face it merely attached itself to my claws and bound my talons together. I remember squirming on the ground as it enveloped me, unable to see, hear, or speak, and then everything went dark in an instant. It was the most horrible thing I had ever experienced, which was saying something.
"You alright, sweetheart? Oh, I know, you're probably hungry! Here, try some of this." She held up a piece of what looked like raw bacon and wiggled it in front of me before reaching out to remove my muzzle. In an instant, I attempted to snap at her only for pain to blossom in my forehead and my eyes to roll up in my head as I convulsed. It was like something was attempting to drill through my skull from the inside, and every breath felt empty and labored.
"Now, that didn't feel very nice, did it? This is why we have countermeasures in place because we can't trust you yet, sweetheart! Don't worry, we'll work on breaking you of all those bad behaviors and habits while you're here; after all, a well-trained pet is a happy pet!" She began to stroke the crests on my head as I slowly recovered, and she snugly fit the muzzle back onto my snout. "But I won't hold it against you this time, sweetheart; you're just scared and confused, but I'll make all the pain go away."
I struggled in the straight jacket, trying my best to break out of it, but it was no use. Eventually, I became exhausted and despondent, allowing my new caretaker to have her way with me as she gently ran her fingers through my feathers and along my ridges, quietly speaking to me in a hopeless attempt to cheer me up. She seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being, which concerned me even further: who could be this naturally twisted while attempting to be as benevolent and kindhearted as possible?
I felt the pain and terror build up in my chest, the anxiety from what horrific activities I imagined they had planned for me here. I couldn't take the infantilization, the lack of any autonomy, the dehumanization, and what I feared the most was if the rumors of 'rebirth' were true: would they take my personhood from me?
Suddenly, I felt her whisper to me. "Don't worry sweetheart, I know you're so scared and confused, but I promise you everything will be okay: it's going to be your birthday soon, and then everything will get better." She ran her fingers through the feathers along my crest lovingly. "It will be such a wonderful day, and then we'll choose for you the most wonderful family, and you'll spend the rest of your life happy in your forever home! Doesn't all of that sound wonderful?"
I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I didn't want to lose myself, not like this, not to these monsters!
"It'll be your birthday soon," she said wistfully as if she was remembering similar events to this in the past like I wasn't the first she'd done this too, "and you'll never be sad again."
I realized that I wasn't the first the stay in this particular cell, and I knew for certain that I wouldn't be the last: I'd end up like my brother, a broken, erased mess of a pathetic creature, reduced to nothing more than a pet for these humans to amuse themselves with.
"We took the liberty of picking out a nice name for you, sweetheart! Now, let me just slip this little programming chip into the port slot on your occipital bone, and... there we go! It will also help you calm down a bit and adjust."
I felt the chip begin to invade my mind, suppressing my thoughts. What made me me was slowly being ripped out of my mind.I couldn't remember my name my name is Bruno, and I needed to get out! I can't let them do this to me! Somebody help me! I was a good boy.
##Do not think. You are a good boy.##
I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't work: I had trouble forming any words at all, the confusion clouding my mind like wet, slimy eels curling around my brain and sinking their teeth into its folds like needles. I couldn’t scream any longer, because I had nothing left: the chip was slowly beginning to take everything from me, robbing me of my identity and branding a new one into my psyche with a white-hot iron. Julie simply held me close, attempting to reassure me as I awaited the inevitable demise of my personhood. Soon I would be just like my brother: erased. My mind would be shaped into the mind of a loyal plaything, like a Dog.
##Relax. Allow caretaker [Julie] to comfort you. You will let go of your burden.##
Soon, everything was a blur. I quickly found myself resting my head in her lap as she whispered to me and fed me, my eyes bleary and my head fuzzy.I couldn't remember my name anymore My name was Bruno, and I needed to break free from this trance relax, and allow her to help me; good boys didn't resist help.
##Good Boy. Do not think. You are a good boy.##
You can't... I...
##Good boy.##
I wouldn't… good boys don't… I…
##Good boy##
I was a good boy… I was a good boy…
I was… I was… a good… boy…
Someone help me, please! I don't want to be erased!
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The following script is from episode #343 of Halcyon After Dark, a popular late-night and current events talk show hosted by Melinda Carter. This specific episode was sponsored in part by the Halcyon Security Division, with Director Lochlin O'Brien joining as a guest star to talk about the changing crime statistics in Halcyon City and the HSD's recent successes in busting organized crime as well as their plans for addressing the growing criminal underworld.
MC: Good evening Halcyon! I'm your host, Melinda Carter, and you're watching Halcyon's most popular late-night talk show, Halcyon After Dark!
The crowd claps and cheers as Melinda walks on stage and sits behind her desk, her glittering red dress waving as she does so from the special effects.
MC: Tonight we have a very special guest here to tell us about the state of crime in the city and his plans on resolving it: please put your hands together for the HSD's very own Director, Lochlin O'Brien!
The crowd cheers some more as HSD Director Lochlan O'Brien, a tall, muscular, caucasian male in his early forties with red hair and a well-trimmed beard steps into the room, waving at the crowd with a bright smile. He sits in the armchair angled next to Melinda's desk and gives her his full attention.
MC: It's so good to have you on the show, Director! Tell me, how are you doing on this fine evening?
LO: I'm doing excellent, Melinda: every day I wake up feeling fulfilled knowing I'm serving Halcyon to the best of my abilities and then some."
MC: That's the spirit, Director! Now, I know this question is just on everyone's lips, so I have to ask: how successful was the recent gang bust? I heard HSD forces took out dozens of gang members and liberated at least a dozen Russu Hounds from their abusive clutches, but I know that everyone in the audience and at home wants to know the numbers.
LO: I'd be glad to tell you, but I do have to preface this by saying that we still lost a lot of good officers that day, and while we did strike a crippling blow to one of Halcyon's biggest gangs, it doesn't change the fact that each death is a tragedy, and we're taking steps to prevent them in the future. That being said, those valiant officers did not sacrifice themselves in vain: we had over a dozen confirmed kills and several arrests, including the rescue of several corrupted Russu hounds.
MC: That's excellent, Director: proof that even when the number of degenerates and scum grow by the day, the HSD will always be here to keep the citizens of Halcyon safe.
LO: Absolutely, Melinda, and we're always working tirelessly to increase the efficiency and effectiveness of our units, as well as racing to stay several steps ahead of the many gangs of Halcyon at all times. My newest goal as Director is to vastly increase the funding given to our Robotics Department and our Neuro-Warfare Department to potentially reduce the number of casualties we may experience in the future, as well as to quickly and effectively detain, and if necessary, eliminate criminals. Within the next decade, I want to double the number of automated units each Security Platoon is assigned: droids are the future of public safety as well as countless other industries, and it would be foolish to be left behind.
MC: That is quite a lofty goal, Director: what about the displaced jobs from the increased automation? What will the union say?
LO: And to that, I say: what misplaced jobs? We aren't replacing our honored and beloved service members with droids, Melinda, we are simply supplementing our units with more droids to ensure that future gang assaults end with fewer HSD casualties and more gang members in prison or eliminated, simple as that.
MC: That makes much more sense, Director, thanks for clarifying. Now, I have one more question that I'm sure much of Halcyon wants to know the answer to before we take a short break: what plans do you and your fellow directors have to make long-term progress in reducing crime beyond just increasing funding? Have you proposed any plans to strike at the source of where crime and degeneracy flourish?
OL: That's an excellent question, and one I am proud to answer: my constituents and I have been working tirelessly on a two-step plan to greatly reduce crime levels in Halcyon. Step one would be to prevent people from becoming criminals and degenerates at all in the first place: a lot of young men and women, but especially young men, have lost either one or both parents or even a sibling, aunt or uncle, or even a close friend by the brutality of the Second Authority War, and while the service of their lost loved ones will always be recognized and honored, many of these young men and women are left bitter, angry and lost without the guidance these people give them in their lives. Oftentimes they seek to fill that void with others who claim to relate to them: career criminals. These criminals will fill their heads with lies and false narratives to make them feel like they're fighting back against the 'evil protectorate government' that took their loved ones from them by sending them off to war when in reality it was the rogue Xenopets of the Triarchy that took them away by resisting their just and inevitable unburdening.
In response, I have proposed a slew of special programs that will make sure local law enforcement and HSD officers are present and contributing to their local community, and we'll be providing easy and light job openings for youngsters and teens looking to make a career for themselves in the force when they grow up. We want to let these lost souls know that there are people who care about them, people who understand them and that you shouldn't turn to degeneracy to feel fulfilled. We want to help the youth of our great society soar to new heights!
MC: That sounds like a wonderful beginning to your plan, Director, but what about the second step?
LO: Well, the second step is to prevent criminals and degenerates from becoming repeat criminals. Sure, they've made their mistakes, some worse than others, but they're only human like the rest of us. Some of them have been through hell: some are traumatized veterans who don't know how to adapt to normal life, others were recruited when they were young and don't know that there's a better way to live, and even more are mentally ill. We're alone in this galaxy, and we can't leave so many people behind. That's why we've come up with an excellent solution: we've set up isolated communities on distant moons and frontier planets where these criminals can be reeducated, rehabilitated, and allowed to repay their debt to society. When they're deemed 'reformed' and have graduated from our program, they'll be granted a hefty stipend and their criminal record will be deemed irrelevant, allowing them to reintegrate and become functioning members of our proud society.
MC: all of these sound like incredible steps forward in the fight to better our society and make real progress, Director. Sadly, we do have to step away for a moment, but you best believe I'll be back, Halcyon, and we'll be asking the Director here some burning questions about allegations over the quality of life Erubus Supermax! Now, a word from our sponsors!
Halcyon Xenopet-Megaplex! Everything your xenopet could ever need in one place! Adoption is now free-
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Good, you’re still alive! The rest of this shard appears to be corrupted, which means this particular trail seems to have run cold here, but do not despair; you need to keep searching. Find out what happened. Find the truth.I cannot guide you any longer: they've already found me, and if I remain in contact with you they'll find you as well. Take the archival database, and see what you can piece together. Maybe if we discover what truly happened we can put an end to this madness once and for all. I'm counting on you. Don't cry for me, I don't fear death, but I fear what they'll do to me to get to you: there are far worse fates than death, after all.
submitted by Frame_Late to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]
The following two brain scans were provided by the Neuro-Warfare branch of the Halcyon Security Division (HSD) for the purpose of analyzing the thoughts, behaviors, and information of notorious gangsters Vincent 'Troy' Cohen and Bruno (Deadname:
Warning: the contents of this archival shared may be especially disturbing to some audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.
Warning: the contents of this archival shard are for the sole purpose of analyzing the thought patterns and memories of certain degenerate criminals in an effort to ascertain vital information that can be used to eliminate their organizations. Only staff with clearance level Omega may view this archival shared, and the viewership of this archival shared by anyone of inadequate clearance level will lead to twenty years in prison and a fine of over a hundred thousand credits.
Booting up memory scan: Vincent 'Troy' Cohen, November 4th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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"Do you have visuals of the target, Troy?"
I knelt down in the alleyway, the bodies of me and my partners shrouded in long, waterproof, ashen-gray overcoats the shade of dirty street scum that we wore to ward off the constant heavy rainfall the color of osmium. Our faces were covered in a mix of scrapped respirators, visors, or full metal face masks carved with intricate designs to hide our identities. On our waists were our badges of honor: leather belts studded with interlocked rivets made from blackened titanium, each buckle forged of silver and shaped into the head of our gang's symbol, the black mamba. We hid amongst the shadows of the dark midday of Halcyon City, the heavy, oppressive rains blanketing the roads paved obsidian-black with asphalt and weathered concrete walkways. The street lamps were always on, like beacons of false hope in a storm of melancholy.
The city was dark and dreary as always, the planet of Proxima Centauri B, renamed Dawn's Lamentation over a century ago, orbited the red dwarf star of Proxima Centauri, and the atmosphere was thick with natural smog and ever-storming rain clouds. That didn't dissuade people from living here: there was plenty of money to be had for shrewd industrialists and hardworking pioneers, even in the urban sprawl. But that life also came with risks, especially for those on the bottom of the totem pole.
I was a ganger, and we were criminals; full stop. I won't assault you with some spiel about how we're the good guys fighting oppression because, at the end of the day, we could be just as bad, if not worse, than Halcyon's Security Division, or the HSD for short. We were traffickers, killers, extortionists, and money launderers. We dealt with everything from stolen tech and military-grade hardware to hard drugs and sentients.
Yes, sentients. We trafficked sentients, but not in the way you might think. They weren't prisoners, in fact, we were their saviors if they had the cash. We had developed a reputation for fighting the power, but it was still business: sure, freeing captives from the clutches of the Protectorate. The disruption of its many oppressive organizations held a certain satisfaction in my heart for sure, but we didn't help those who couldn't pay unless someone else paid on their behalf. It was about making sure me and my gang, my family, could live a decent life for another day.
It helped that most of us joined after leaving the state yard for partaking in acts of 'degeneracy' and 'anti-xenopet illegalities' as if those terms meant anything anymore other than that we were a threat to the local status quo. It was hard to pick up a job as a former inmate when even in something as harsh and backbreaking as a job in the iridium mines near the poles when the employment office had you blacklisted as a degenerate, which lead to the formation of many of the gangs: we needed to make a living somehow, and when all social programs were cut off from you unless you submitted for 're-education' and the only way to put food on the table was subverting, breaking, or even downright fighting the law, you did what you had to do or you died on the streets a scorned beggar.
It wasn't like the HSD made it easy for us on even a good day: the local HSD units were armed to the teeth with advanced, military-grade hardware that you'd often see on the front lines of the Second Authority War: armored assault transports, a myriad of advanced war droids, all sorts of chemical countermeasures that made tear gas seem like putting the garden hose on mist mode, and of course advanced firearms. Add that to the fact that they were authorized to use deadly force when they deemed it necessary and you had a ruthless, heartless, and nearly unstoppable enemy. But we could make that work: we weren't trying to stop them, just to withstand them.
"Yeah, I got eyes on the prize, Koraak; seven armored transports, two for droids, five for prisoners."
Today wasn't a day for a normal job: we were getting bolder, cockier, more ambitious. Our numbers had swelled for the last few years after the raid at Barnard's Star and the fall of the Blood Dragon Mafia. Their leader, Saito Yasuhide, had committed seppuku as their manor burned, and his twin sons had gone down fighting rather than allowing themselves to be captured simply to face a firing squad. In the aftermath, many of the family's associates had fled to the surrounding systems, and with the sheer size and scope of the criminal underworld found here, it was no wonder that many people who had developed skills of the less legal variety had decided to form ranks with the gangs, and with them they brought guns, tech, knowledge, contacts, and even something that we thought wasn't possible beforehand: a semblance of peace between the gangs, or at least the closest thing to peace that gangs could cultivate effectively. With the fall of the Blood Dragons, we saw the writing on the wall, and the writing couldn't have been clearer: work together or die together.
"Sounds like a massacre, Troy: are you sure we can handle seven?"
"We ain't got no choice, Cinder: this job's double the usual rate, and that's not including the weapons and gear we could scrounge if this goes well," I hissed, my eyes scanning for any resistance. There were at least four guards for each van, not to mention at least eight droids in total, meaning that we were already outnumbered, but we had the element of surprise: we could make it work. "So put your balls in your purse and get ready to spill some blood."
Koraak snorted at our antics, which sounded like someone pulling the ripcord on a lawnmower. He was a veteran Russu Corsair, and while his past of slaving, raiding, and killing was unsavory, so were the lives we'd lived, so who were we to judge? All we cared about was that he was a brutal and capable fighter and a loyal brother in arms. It turned out that being a ganger wasn't much different from being a Corsair: you lived and died by a code of honor, you fought to the death for your brothers, and you lived to die for the sake of your gang and your family, simple as that. In a strange, ironic way, it was an incredibly honest way of life: we were under no illusions as to what we were, what we did, and why we did it, and we'd long since accepted it. The Russu related to us in that aspect, in many ways I could respect, which is why I hated what the Protectorate was doing, and why I couldn't grasp how most of humanity could just collectively lose their marbles so long ago. What had happened for us to deem all other life below us in such a demeaning and infantilizing way?
The Russu were a race of tall, muscle-bound Saurians with avian features, and Koraak was no exception: reaching almost seven feet in height and weighing over four hundred and fifty pounds, he could be an absolute menace if he so desired. His skin was covered in stubby, knobby scales and dense plumage, with elegant feathers adorning the ridges along his back as well as his forearms, elbows, knees, and the crests on his head. He almost looked like how paleontologists described velociraptors, with razor-sharp talons, feathers shaded in vibrant greens, reds, and purples, and a maw full of sharp teeth, but at the tip of his snout was a sharp, beak-like growth meant for ripping flesh off the bone.
The Russu were strange as hell, but they also looked almost cute in the same way a fully grown alligator was cute: they were obviously dangerous, but humans would always have this innate desire to anthropomorphize them and to pet them for some inexplicable reason, although common sense usually prevented that, at least amongst the very few of us left that were sane.
"Shut up, Troy! All I'm saying is that that'll be rough, and you know it," hissed Cinder. Cinder was a tall black man whose coffee-colored skin was covered in tattoos. He wore an ebony mechanic's jumpsuit with metal inserts underneath his grimy overcoat covering his body and a faded black respirator on his face. His eyes were a startling blue that seemed sorely out of place, and his hair was braided into thick cornrows along his scalp. He wore a pair of heavy black combat boots and palmed his compact shotgun in his hands, the square barrel less than seven inches. Like a lot of the weapons the Black Mambas carried on their persons and dealt in, they fired caseless ammunition; in Cinder's case it was 16x40mm caseless shotshells filled with depleted uranium micro-flechetes no thicker than a toothpick. Cinder nervously fiddled with the detachable tube magazine underneath the barrel, his hands shaking. Despite the shit I have him, I didn't blame him for being anxious: I was anxious too, even if I refused to show it. The biting cold of unease and pessimism was in my stomach, and I ran all the way that this job could go wrong in my head over and over.
"Just hold yourself together, this ain't anything we haven't done before, there's just more of it," I reassured Cinder, "besides, we're not alone; we have reinforcements across the street. We'll make it out of this alive."
Cinder nodded almost absentmindedly, his eyes downcast and his breathing shallow. I turned from him and back to Koraak, who was making sure he had everything on his person; he had a synthetic leather bandoleer across his chest that contained the heavy eight guage depleted uranium slugs he kept loading and unloading into his much larger, longer, and more traditional shotgun he nicknamed ‘carnage’ and several leather straps that held his Tu'shan daggers: traditional Russu pyramidal blades forged from a silvery alloy with all three edges serrated and the tip barbed to leave behind horrible, gaping wounds that gushed blood. They were wickedly sharp and absolutely straight like a stiletto, and the hilts and pommels were beautifully decorated. He wore no clothes underneath his overcoat to cover the countless scars and blemishes he's earned in combat across his chest and abdomen, and instead of a normal respirator or visor, he simply wore a hood over his head and some traditional Russu facial armor to protect his mouth, eyes, and cheeks.
"You ready to fight, Koraak? The caravan will pick up and leave soon."
Koraak was silent for a moment before nodding, a human gesture he had picked up after serving as a soldier with the Black Mambas for years. "I'm always ready to fight," he said before lifting up his shotgun and aiming down the sights at the reinforced front wheels of the first armored car in the caravan. He exhaled and fired, the slug ripping through both front tires and causing them to deflate and fall apart. The echo of the shot rang through the alleyway and the street, causing pedestrians to panic and flee the scene as heavily armored guards poured out of the side doors of the armored cars and unholstered their carbines.
"Go, now!" I shouted, and both me and Cinder rushed out into the fray, our guns raised. Koraak was right behind the two of us, providing covering fire with his shotgun. Several guards fell quickly, Koraak's precise fire and the sheer force of the depleted uranium slugs putting them down for good as their heads were vaporized or their chest cavities were turned to mush. He emptied the tube with one final shot that painted the grey matter of a security guard on the door of one of the armored cars, then racked the shotgun and expertly loaded it in threes, his hands deft and agile as he reached for more slugs faster than any human.
With the cacophony of our initial assault, more Black Mambas poured out from the alleyways and the subways, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons; shotguns, submachine guns, pistols, machetes, baseball bats, and all manner of homemade explosives. Molotovs and more potent concoctions shattered against the asphalt, herding in the caravan guards with their volatile contents as they were quickly gunned down. The assault was working, and we were winning.
Then I heard the robotic whine of a combat droid activating, and my heart sank. One of the armored cars in the back activated the four combat droids it held, the robotic assault units detaching from their charging ports on the sides of the large van and began to form up, each armed with a terrifying array of deadly weapons meant to quash any and all resistance. They were blocky, soulless, utilitarian things that stood at eight feet tall, with flat feet meant for stomping and blades, grasping claws designed to lacerate flesh and shatter bone. On each shoulder was a weapon: on the left was a multi-barrel rotary grenade launcher loaded with 15mm concussion grenades, and on the right was a burst-fire splinter cannon. They were all painted a dull grayish-green, the color of Halcyon's Security Division, although some had a few decorations on them: the one closest to me had a bit of graffiti on the side that said Mr. Hugs in Comic Sans, which I couldn't decide whether that made it more or less terrifying. They split up without hesitation and began to scan the chaotic battlefield, their single, red, beady lenses the security forces had the gall to call eyes focusing on specific targets to eliminate.
An entire group of Black Mambas was torn to pieces by a cloud of flechettes as one of the droids fired a withering three-round burst of shotshells from the four gauge splinter cannon mounted on its shoulder. Another picked up a Black Mamba in its hand and crushed her skull effortlessly before tossing her limp body to the side, its single, red, remorseless robotic eye tracking a new target. Most bullets that struck their thick armored chassis simply bounced off, and those that could pierce the armor didn't seem to phase the droids whatsoever, merely notifying them of a new potential target.
"Damnit," I shouted as I gunned down another guard only for two more to take his place. "Cinder! We gotta pop open the cars and scram! Get the maglock cutters!"
Cinder rushed and slid over through a dirty puddle, pulling out a maglock cutter from the inside of his coat and slipping it onto the back door of the first van. It immediately went to work, drilling through the maglock with a high-powered plasma torch nozzle, and within ten seconds we heard the telltale clunk of the maglock separating. I yanked the door open and ordered I side, ready to escort the prisoners out… only for my face to contort in shock and horror.
The back was empty. There was not a single soul inside of the back brig of the armored car.
"What the fuck…" Cinder gasped, his eyes wide with shock. "What the actual fuck… what the fuck is this, Troy?"
"I… I don't…" I stuttered the sounds of battle and carnage drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in my ears. All five cars were supposed to be filled with recently captured Russu from the front lines ready to be housed in the local Xenopet-Megaplex for processing and conditioning. The fact that this one was empty…
Suddenly, it all hit me at once with the force of a freight train, but it was too late. "We were set up, Cinder; our fucking client either squealed or was crooked to begin with…"
"Fucking bitch!" Cinder shouted as he spun around in an enraged arch, anger growing in his eyes. He aimed his shotgun at an approaching security guard and reduced his upper body to a fine red mist with a cacophony of shotgun blasts. "We gotta get everyone who's left out of here! Do you know what this means? The Jurors will be here soon, and then we're all going down! We gotta go, fuck the job!"
I grit my teeth. Not the Jurors, anything but the Jurors.
"Fine, gather everyone who's left and we'll slip through the sewers, the droids are too bulky to follow us there…"
As I spoke, my eyes wandered to the seventh and final armored car, the second of the droid cars, and my blood froze. Not only were all four ports empty, but they were also smaller and more shallow than the ports for the combat droids. That could only mean one thing.
"Oh fuck! Cinder, we gotta get our Russu members out of here! They've got arachnid droids!"
Arachnid droids were the stuff of nightmares. Resembling blocky, robotic arachnids the size of a manhole cover, they were specifically designed to take down sentient aliens, specifically the Russu, using sickeningly non-lethal means. They were equipped with full-body adaptive cloaking to blend in with their environments, paralytic agents that they could inject into their victims, built-in taser barbs, psychedelic gas ports for crowd-control, and a narrow-coned cacophony canon that disabled the Russu using incredibly high-pitched sounds that only they could hear, forcing them onto their knees and clutching the backs of their heads where their auditory organs were stored in agony. But worst of all was their stygian spinnerets: special ports near the end of their robotic abdomens that excreted a viscous, latex-like substance made up of millions of nano-bots. This substance could be used to render Russu blind, deaf, and mute by having it forced onto their faces, the black substance growing and enveloping their heads and working its way into every orifice. It was completely permeable to the standard atmosphere, but any Russu who had been 'webbed' was completely helpless and essentially captured, and the 'webbing' was both nearly indestructible and nigh impossible to remove without a triple-encrypted override key that was found in every arachnid droid's code, which was corrupted when the droid was destroyed or hacked into. Once you were 'webbed', you were essentially captured and the standard protocol was to leave you to the wolves since the nano-bots could be tracked, endangering the entire gang.
I turned just as I heard the deafening sound of Koraak discharging his shotgun, and I saw him squaring off against one of the assault droids. The droid has obviously been programmed to not use lethal force against Russu if possible, as instead of simply killing Koraak with it's shoulder-mounted splinter cannon, it approached with its claws extended, blades retracted. Koraak continued to back away and fire, pumping the droid full of depleted uranium slugs, its armor crumbling inward as the slugs pierced its chassis and damaged its internal cyberstructure. Eventually, Koraak ran out of slugs and instinctively reached to his bandoleer only to find that he had no more shells left at all, and he drew one of his knives and his sidearm, a simple high-caliber handgun. He tried to take down the droid with his handgun, but the bullets didn't even seem to affect the droid upon penetration, it's claws still extended as it attempted to apprehend Koraak.
In the corner of my vision, as I watched Koraak battle with the droid, I noticed a faint shimmer in the air on one of the black streetlight poles that was right behind him. I focused on it and blinked, believing my eyes had deceived me for a moment before realizing that it was actually a cloaked arachnid droid stalking Korvaak, ready to pounce and incapacitate him.
Before I could shout, it leaped from the pole and landed on Korvaak, causing him to shout in surprise while it began to coagulate its horrifying stygian webbing to disable Korvaak. Korvaak tried to wrestle it off of him, but the droid was agile and fast, clinging onto Korvaak and skittering around across his upper body as he attempted to grab it, forcibly wrapping the sticky black liquid across his face as he gagged like a spider wrapping up a fly. I rushed towards him to try and help, but I felt pain explode in my ribs as I was struck with the arm of the closest combat droid and launched into the chassis of a parked car, the metal denting from the sheer force of impact. I groaned in pain as I saw stars and my head spun, and just then I felt a blinding light be cast over me.
“Drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head, or you will be pacified with deadly force!” Shouted a loud, artificially deepened voice from above. “I repeat, drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head! Neither hostility nor hesitation will be tolerated!”
It was the Jurors, I could feel the air being pushed around from the thrusters on their drop ships, and I could hear screams and shouts as my fellow Black Mambas were quickly gunned down. I couldn’t see well since I was seeing double, but I could hear the slaughter as my eyes dimmed and I began to lose consciousness, my regrets crawling up my throat like vomit.
I’m sorry was all I could think as everything finally went dark, and the sounds of chaos, destruction, and combat faded away.
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Memory halted due to loss of consciousness. Booting next available memory in shard…
Booting up memory scan: Koraak Tel-Char Bruno, November 5th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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“Good morning, sleepyhead; it’s time for breakfast.”
My eyes shot open. I was not in the street anymore, nor was I home in my bed with my mate. I knew instantly that something was horribly wrong. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t gain the leverage to do so: my ankles had been shackled together with magnetic cuffs and my arms were forced together in front of me.
I was wearing some kind of thick shirt. It was warm, fluffy, and comfortable on the inside, but it still made me incredibly uncomfortable that my arms didn’t have a free range of motion. I looked down to see that I was wearing some human garment I had heard about before, a straightjacket maybe?
The entire room was padded: the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. There was no bed or furniture; the floor was soft enough to serve as a bed in itself. There was nothing else except for the soft reddish-orange lights on the ceiling that somehow made me sleepy. I blinked slowly for a moment, my body screaming at me to just lay back down and lose consciousness, but I couldn’t do that: I needed to figure out where I was and how to escape.
Then I noticed who was speaking to me: it was a short human female, with crow's feet around her blue eyes, blonde hair braided down her back, and freckles all over her face. She had a soft smile on her lips, and her forehead was slightly crinkled. She wore a full-body white lab suit with a white overcoat and a pair of glasses for snugly on her face.
"There we go, now I can see those pretty eyes, such a beautiful shade of teal," she cooed softly, "You're such a handsome boy, even with all those scars: I'm sure you'll be adopted very quickly once we get you fixed up."
Fear gripped my heart as I began to piece all the evidence together. I had been captured; I was no longer on Halcyon, and instead, I was in one of the horrific space-born facilities I had heard so much about from the inside agents. I started to hyperventilate and squawk like a newborn hatchling, my eyes dilating in panic. This couldn't be happening! This has to be a nightmare!
The human woman merely wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace, cradling my head under her chin and speaking softly. I couldn't bite at her or claw at her: I was muzzled and wearing a straight jacket, so I had no choice but to allow her to coddle me.
"It's okay, sweetheart: I understand you're scared, but Julie's here to make all the pain and bad thoughts go away," she said as if she was comforting a child, which made anger blossom in my chest indignantly. "I'll be your caretaker for the next few months, and I'm going to make sure you're healthy, happy, and most importantly safe while you're under our care. I'm sorry to say that includes your restraints and restrictive clothing, but we have to make sure you aren't a threat to yourself or others before we can determine if it's a good idea to remove you from suicide watch."
I growled under my muzzle. Suicide watch? They must have had a lot of instances of Russu taking their own lives after being captured, something I wished I had been able to do before that damnable droid launched itself onto me and…
I shuddered at the thought of the black, viscous substance forcing itself into my nostrils and down my throat and windpipe, gagging me and rendering me completely helpless. It was so cold, so harsh, like slime, and when I had tried to tear it off of my face it merely attached itself to my claws and bound my talons together. I remember squirming on the ground as it enveloped me, unable to see, hear, or speak, and then everything went dark in an instant. It was the most horrible thing I had ever experienced, which was saying something.
"You alright, sweetheart? Oh, I know, you're probably hungry! Here, try some of this." She held up a piece of what looked like raw bacon and wiggled it in front of me before reaching out to remove my muzzle. In an instant, I attempted to snap at her only for pain to blossom in my forehead and my eyes to roll up in my head as I convulsed. It was like something was attempting to drill through my skull from the inside, and every breath felt empty and labored.
"Now, that didn't feel very nice, did it? This is why we have countermeasures in place because we can't trust you yet, sweetheart! Don't worry, we'll work on breaking you of all those bad behaviors and habits while you're here; after all, a well-trained pet is a happy pet!" She began to stroke the crests on my head as I slowly recovered, and she snugly fit the muzzle back onto my snout. "But I won't hold it against you this time, sweetheart; you're just scared and confused, but I'll make all the pain go away."
I struggled in the straight jacket, trying my best to break out of it, but it was no use. Eventually, I became exhausted and despondent, allowing my new caretaker to have her way with me as she gently ran her fingers through my feathers and along my ridges, quietly speaking to me in a hopeless attempt to cheer me up. She seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being, which concerned me even further: who could be this naturally twisted while attempting to be as benevolent and kindhearted as possible?
I felt the pain and terror build up in my chest, the anxiety from what horrific activities I imagined they had planned for me here. I couldn't take the infantilization, the lack of any autonomy, the dehumanization, and what I feared the most was if the rumors of 'rebirth' were true: would they take my personhood from me?
Suddenly, I felt her whisper to me. "Don't worry sweetheart, I know you're so scared and confused, but I promise you everything will be okay: it's going to be your birthday soon, and then everything will get better." She ran her fingers through the feathers along my crest lovingly. "It will be such a wonderful day, and then we'll choose for you the most wonderful family, and you'll spend the rest of your life happy in your forever home! Doesn't all of that sound wonderful?"
I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I didn't want to lose myself, not like this, not to these monsters!
"It'll be your birthday soon," she said wistfully as if she was remembering similar events to this in the past like I wasn't the first she'd done this too, "and you'll never be sad again."
I realized that I wasn't the first the stay in this particular cell, and I knew for certain that I wouldn't be the last: I'd end up like my brother, a broken, erased mess of a pathetic creature, reduced to nothing more than a pet for these humans to amuse themselves with.
"We took the liberty of picking out a nice name for you, sweetheart! Now, let me just slip this little programming chip into the port slot on your occipital bone, and... there we go! It will also help you calm down a bit and adjust."
I felt the chip begin to invade my mind, suppressing my thoughts. What made me me was slowly being ripped out of my mind.
##Do not think. You are a good boy.##
I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't work: I had trouble forming any words at all, the confusion clouding my mind like wet, slimy eels curling around my brain and sinking their teeth into its folds like needles. I couldn’t scream any longer, because I had nothing left: the chip was slowly beginning to take everything from me, robbing me of my identity and branding a new one into my psyche with a white-hot iron. Julie simply held me close, attempting to reassure me as I awaited the inevitable demise of my personhood. Soon I would be just like my brother: erased. My mind would be shaped into the mind of a loyal plaything, like a Dog.
##Relax. Allow caretaker [Julie] to comfort you. You will let go of your burden.##
Soon, everything was a blur. I quickly found myself resting my head in her lap as she whispered to me and fed me, my eyes bleary and my head fuzzy.
##Good Boy. Do not think. You are a good boy.##
You can't... I...
##Good boy.##
I wouldn't… good boys don't… I…
##Good boy##
I was a good boy… I was a good boy…
I was… I was… a good… boy…
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The following script is from episode #343 of Halcyon After Dark, a popular late-night and current events talk show hosted by Melinda Carter. This specific episode was sponsored in part by the Halcyon Security Division, with Director Lochlin O'Brien joining as a guest star to talk about the changing crime statistics in Halcyon City and the HSD's recent successes in busting organized crime as well as their plans for addressing the growing criminal underworld.
MC: Good evening Halcyon! I'm your host, Melinda Carter, and you're watching Halcyon's most popular late-night talk show, Halcyon After Dark!
The crowd claps and cheers as Melinda walks on stage and sits behind her desk, her glittering red dress waving as she does so from the special effects.
MC: Tonight we have a very special guest here to tell us about the state of crime in the city and his plans on resolving it: please put your hands together for the HSD's very own Director, Lochlin O'Brien!
The crowd cheers some more as HSD Director Lochlan O'Brien, a tall, muscular, caucasian male in his early forties with red hair and a well-trimmed beard steps into the room, waving at the crowd with a bright smile. He sits in the armchair angled next to Melinda's desk and gives her his full attention.
MC: It's so good to have you on the show, Director! Tell me, how are you doing on this fine evening?
LO: I'm doing excellent, Melinda: every day I wake up feeling fulfilled knowing I'm serving Halcyon to the best of my abilities and then some."
MC: That's the spirit, Director! Now, I know this question is just on everyone's lips, so I have to ask: how successful was the recent gang bust? I heard HSD forces took out dozens of gang members and liberated at least a dozen Russu Hounds from their abusive clutches, but I know that everyone in the audience and at home wants to know the numbers.
LO: I'd be glad to tell you, but I do have to preface this by saying that we still lost a lot of good officers that day, and while we did strike a crippling blow to one of Halcyon's biggest gangs, it doesn't change the fact that each death is a tragedy, and we're taking steps to prevent them in the future. That being said, those valiant officers did not sacrifice themselves in vain: we had over a dozen confirmed kills and several arrests, including the rescue of several corrupted Russu hounds.
MC: That's excellent, Director: proof that even when the number of degenerates and scum grow by the day, the HSD will always be here to keep the citizens of Halcyon safe.
LO: Absolutely, Melinda, and we're always working tirelessly to increase the efficiency and effectiveness of our units, as well as racing to stay several steps ahead of the many gangs of Halcyon at all times. My newest goal as Director is to vastly increase the funding given to our Robotics Department and our Neuro-Warfare Department to potentially reduce the number of casualties we may experience in the future, as well as to quickly and effectively detain, and if necessary, eliminate criminals. Within the next decade, I want to double the number of automated units each Security Platoon is assigned: droids are the future of public safety as well as countless other industries, and it would be foolish to be left behind.
MC: That is quite a lofty goal, Director: what about the displaced jobs from the increased automation? What will the union say?
LO: And to that, I say: what misplaced jobs? We aren't replacing our honored and beloved service members with droids, Melinda, we are simply supplementing our units with more droids to ensure that future gang assaults end with fewer HSD casualties and more gang members in prison or eliminated, simple as that.
MC: That makes much more sense, Director, thanks for clarifying. Now, I have one more question that I'm sure much of Halcyon wants to know the answer to before we take a short break: what plans do you and your fellow directors have to make long-term progress in reducing crime beyond just increasing funding? Have you proposed any plans to strike at the source of where crime and degeneracy flourish?
OL: That's an excellent question, and one I am proud to answer: my constituents and I have been working tirelessly on a two-step plan to greatly reduce crime levels in Halcyon. Step one would be to prevent people from becoming criminals and degenerates at all in the first place: a lot of young men and women, but especially young men, have lost either one or both parents or even a sibling, aunt or uncle, or even a close friend by the brutality of the Second Authority War, and while the service of their lost loved ones will always be recognized and honored, many of these young men and women are left bitter, angry and lost without the guidance these people give them in their lives. Oftentimes they seek to fill that void with others who claim to relate to them: career criminals. These criminals will fill their heads with lies and false narratives to make them feel like they're fighting back against the 'evil protectorate government' that took their loved ones from them by sending them off to war when in reality it was the rogue Xenopets of the Triarchy that took them away by resisting their just and inevitable unburdening.
In response, I have proposed a slew of special programs that will make sure local law enforcement and HSD officers are present and contributing to their local community, and we'll be providing easy and light job openings for youngsters and teens looking to make a career for themselves in the force when they grow up. We want to let these lost souls know that there are people who care about them, people who understand them and that you shouldn't turn to degeneracy to feel fulfilled. We want to help the youth of our great society soar to new heights!
MC: That sounds like a wonderful beginning to your plan, Director, but what about the second step?
LO: Well, the second step is to prevent criminals and degenerates from becoming repeat criminals. Sure, they've made their mistakes, some worse than others, but they're only human like the rest of us. Some of them have been through hell: some are traumatized veterans who don't know how to adapt to normal life, others were recruited when they were young and don't know that there's a better way to live, and even more are mentally ill. We're alone in this galaxy, and we can't leave so many people behind. That's why we've come up with an excellent solution: we've set up isolated communities on distant moons and frontier planets where these criminals can be reeducated, rehabilitated, and allowed to repay their debt to society. When they're deemed 'reformed' and have graduated from our program, they'll be granted a hefty stipend and their criminal record will be deemed irrelevant, allowing them to reintegrate and become functioning members of our proud society.
MC: all of these sound like incredible steps forward in the fight to better our society and make real progress, Director. Sadly, we do have to step away for a moment, but you best believe I'll be back, Halcyon, and we'll be asking the Director here some burning questions about allegations over the quality of life Erubus Supermax! Now, a word from our sponsors!
Halcyon Xenopet-Megaplex! Everything your xenopet could ever need in one place! Adoption is now free-
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Good, you’re still alive! The rest of this shard appears to be corrupted, which means this particular trail seems to have run cold here, but do not despair; you need to keep searching. Find out what happened. Find the truth.I cannot guide you any longer: they've already found me, and if I remain in contact with you they'll find you as well. Take the archival database, and see what you can piece together. Maybe if we discover what truly happened we can put an end to this madness once and for all. I'm counting on you. Don't cry for me, I don't fear death, but I fear what they'll do to me to get to you: there are far worse fates than death, after all.
2024.05.31 22:09 PWOFalcon AA V0 Prolog, Chapter 4
2/06/2048 (military calendar)
Temple of Indolass, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie,
Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore
*****
Feeling the smooth marble-like wall, Fraeya Holiadon searched for any clues to a secret passage, door, or symbols that could assist them in fixing the Bridge.
While the Palatini of Orias had been at the temple grounds far longer than expected, all efforts had been focused on investigating why the Bridge wouldn't open. This gave her time to study the interior of this structure, realizing that she would have been the first in thousands of years. Based on the exterior side of the mountain, some formations could be closed off balconies, making her conclude that there was more to this place than just this chamber.
To her surprise, time had not degraded the interior, unlike most structures that were left to decay. Everything looked fresh. Dusty but fresh, almost marble-like; however, she couldn't figure out what type of marble it was.
Fraeya stopped once she felt a slight bump within the wall. She carefully double-checked that she had indeed found something. When her fingers couldn't find a bump, she started believing it was her imagination playing tricks. However, with one last slow sweep of her hand, she found what she felt before. Confirming that there was a bump within the smooth wall, she noted it in her journal. "That makes three."
"Three of what?"
The elf girl's ears perked from the unknown feminine voice; she turned and saw a woman approaching. Not just any woman, beautiful golden eyes, fair pale skin, and silk-like light blond hair. She wore slick light gray armor with golden lining and a small crystal on her upper chest. Behind her were these short but pure white feathered wings on her back. - a Valkyrie.
The Valkyrie woman stopped with a confused look and asked, "I am sorry if I scared you."
"I…, I did not know we had a Valkyrie among us." Fraeya then got a better view of the woman's armor, noticing a plate with the Templar symbol. She quickly bowed to the woman. "You are a Templar. I apologize that I did not recognize you. It is an honor to be in your presence."
She felt the woman place both hands on her shoulders and raise her back to eye level.
"Please," the Valkyrie said. "I never liked these types of formalities. Especially among friends."
Fraeya stared at the woman with confusion. While she had never met a Templar, everyone at the academy talked about them almost religiously. They are the most elite warriors of Alagore, being considered the Heart of Tekali—maintainers of the peace and protectors of the common folk. So, the stories say.
"I am sorry," Fraeya said. "At the academy, we were taught the proper mannerisms around a Templar like yourself."
"I understand, but we are not at the academy," the Valkyrie said.
"A fact I keep learning."
The Valkyrie looked over and saw Fraeya's father sitting alone. "With your father sitting over there by that thing, you must be his daughter. It was…, Fraeya, correct?"
Fraeya stood there in confusion. She couldn't help but cross her arms as she failed to recall meeting this woman. "I apologize. I do not wish to be rude, but have we met before today?"
Before the Valkyrie woman could respond, Fraeya heard her father yell the woman's name.
"Natilite, you have finally come." Raegel walked up, took the Valkyrie by the hand, and kissed it. "I was wondering when you were going to arrive."
"Still the romantic," the Natilite said. "It is nice to see you again, Reagel. I would have been here sooner, but convincing the City-States to join our cause had proven troublesome."
"As I feared and expected," Raegel said. "Did any join our cause?"
The Valkyrie held her hand up to silence Raegel. "I have lots to say, but first, I do not think your daughter remembers me."
Raegel looked toward his daughter and laughed. "My apologies. Fraeya, this is an old friend of mine, Natilite. Natilite, this is my daughter, Fraeya."
The Templar took Fraeya's hand gently and held it up with a smile. "It is nice to meet you in person finally."
Staring at the Valkyrie golden eyes, Fraeya felt nervous and embarrassed as she was scared by this woman's confidence. The words struggled to form within her mouth.
Natilite pulled back but giggled. "I apologize if I was too forward."
"No, no," Fraeya said. "It is not that. It is nice to meet you, Natilite. How long have you two been friends?"
"Oh, a long time now, I think," Natilite said.
"It has been," Raegel said. "We met one day during a dig. If I recall, the nearby town hired you to kill me."
Fraeya's ears perked again after hearing what her father said. She then watched the valkyrie chuckle. "You tried to kill my father?"
"It was my job," Natilite said. "I remember it was yesterday. I was passing by, and the townsfolk begged me to kill this elf who was disrespecting these ruins from the old era. So, I rushed off to kill him."
"Why would you do such a thing?" Fraeya asked. She then felt her father place a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
"It is okay, my daughter," Raegel said. "It is water under the bridge. You know most people do not like it when people bother the ruins. Most think they are cursed and all that."
"Well," Natilite said. "I would still agree that they are cursed, but when I found your father, I decided to spy on him and see what he was doing. Only a fool would risk their lives in exploring the orilla."
Orilla. Past civilizations, ruins, structures, legends. If the children of Alagore agreed on anything, that orilla must be forgotten and feared. What remains of it litters throughout Alagore. Some ruins lay underground, within mountains. Very rarely, some are in plain sight, either from decay or destroyed from some orlilla warfare. Fraeya learned from the academy that no one can search for anything from orlilla.
She does not understand why. Her father always said that was why he left Thali'ean, as they kept impeding his world. Why she did not know why the elves made searching for anything related to orlilla taboo, she heard plenty of stories from the professors of fools going to search for these ruins and relics. The professors said the lucky ones found nothing, while the unlucky ones were dead.
"I would agree with you," Fraeya said with a chuckle. "My father can be a fool. But I want to know what happened."
"As I watched," Natilite said. "I realized that he was not dangerous. Maybe to himself, but no one else. So, I studied him for a few days. Wondering what he was trying to do. I only showed myself once a party of orcs came."
"You fought off a party of orcs alone!? I knew valkyries were skilled warriors, but one cannot defeat a horde. And I mean no offense, a female warrior would…. I mean…, I am impressed the worst did not unfold." Fraeya placed her hands on her cheeks as she struggled to properly what she wanted to say. She felt the stress of what she wanted to say and what was the proper way to say it.
Natilite smiled and placed her hand on her sword handle. "No offense taken, as I understand. The world can be cruel and dangerous toward the weak." She then glanced away for a moment. Her smile switched from a smile to a neutral reaction before smiling again. "This is why we sharpen our skills in a lifestyle and not a profession. To deal with situations like that, to protect the people."
"Very wise," Raegel said as he approached. "You are forgetting one important detail. That you are a Templar, I think that gives you a little advantage over the rest of the world."
Natilite blushed in response. "There is that."
As the two bantered, Fraeya was shocked by what had been said. While she always wondered about her father's adventures, he had been on. The places and the people he met on the way. It never passed her that he would befriend someone from this station.
"While I am happy to see you again Natilite, I need to get back to work," Raegel said. "Please excuse me."
"I understand," Natilite replied. "We should catch up afterward."
Fraeya watched as her father walked away to continue his work. She then turned to ask the Valkyrie more questions. "So, did my father ask you to aid us?"
"Yes, he did," Natilite replied. "I was part of an advance force to secure some allies before you arrived."
The Templar then crossed her arms and started down the chamber. "So, that is your father's lifelong dream? It looks different than I expected."
Turning to face the orlilla device, she turned toward the Templar and said, "Yes, it is, and that is what everyone said."
"Interesting. And this is the device that is supposed to open this… place…. Is it called Alkae?"
"Father calls it Altaerrie."
"Altaerrie. So, that means the Lats legend is true. The home of humanity so the story says. They did come here long ago from another world. Because you are all sitting around, and it is not glowing, I assume it is not working?"
"Sadly, no, it is not," Fraeya replied. "When we put this orb into it that my father found, he thought it would activate it. But the only thing that happened was that the crystal in the center started blinking orange. It has been like that for weeks."
"Why do you think that is?" Natilite asked.
"I have no idea," Fraeya replied. "It has been very frustrating and has placed a lot of stress on my father. He had not left that spot, and I felt useless as all this was beyond me. On one hand, he made the biggest discovery in the world; on the other hand, it became a massive failure."
"I can understand that feeling."
Fraeya Holiadon clapped her hands and said, "Maybe you can go over and help."
The Templar looked at the young elf and then at her father, who was sitting on the floor, reading his piles of books. "I do not think that is a good idea."
Freya struggled to understand why this woman rejected her idea. "But…, my father needs you. You two are old friends who helped him in his research."
"Being a bodyguard does not mean I understand anything he has done." Natilite carefully stared at Raegel, as if she was reading through the man. She then looked back towards her. "I was planning to, but honestly, I think he needs his daughter more than me right now."
Fraeya looked toward her father and thought about what she could do. She then returned to the Valkyrie; however, the woman was already leaving the chamber.
She took a deep breath and made her father's favorite tea before walking toward him. "You need a break. You will not figure this out being this exhausted."
Raegel Holiadon slammed the book shut and rubbed his eyes, clearly frustrated with the current situation. He turned and forced a smile, taking the drink. "Thank you, my dear." She watched him take a sip and was thrilled to see some enjoyment in her father's reaction.
"See. A short break can be healthy."
"That is what your mother always said," Raegel said. "She always pointed out that I was more human than elf. Always working as if I was running out of time."
A moment of silence had appeared between the two as she struggled to figure out what to reply. She remembered her mother and missed her greatly.
It was Raegel who broke the silence. "I am sorry for dragging you here. It was a mistake."
Confused by the statement, Fraeya sat down next to her father. "You did not drag me here, father; I wanted to come."
"And I should have said no. But I wanted you to be next to me during this moment. I was trying to compensate for those lost years when I was not around you and your mother. Now, I regret breaking that belief. I have failed everyone in this world. Everyone who followed me here. Failed as an explorer. But more importantly, as a husband and father."
"No, you did not fail. Look, everyone thought you were crazy. You have proven that everything you believed was correct. A lost piece of our history."
Fraeya then looked down at the pile of books, most of which he authored. "Maybe we just missed something."
"It is possible," Raegel said. "I have been skimming through all my work and found nothing."
Noticing a dark green book, Fraeya grabbed and opened it. Seeing her father's famous note-taking ability that only he understood. "Can you show me how everything works? Maybe running through everything step by step will help?"
That is when Fraeya noticed a proud grin from her father.
"Why not," Raegel said. "If we are going to start, let's start with this one."
*****
The skylight blinded the Templar Natilite as she exited the mountain. While her sight was superior to the races who walk the ground, they are more sensitive to sunlight.
It took a moment for her valkyrie eyes to readjust, and once she regained her vision, she saw the encampment. The Lats were spread throughout what remained of the temple ruins. The Palatini of Orias, elite warriors entrusted with this mission, had fortified this place to the best of their abilities; however, she could tell they didn't plan on a siege. While their loyalty and commitment to the task were without question, she could see the lack of morale in the current situation.
Natilite couldn't blame them. The mission had turned out differently than expected, which was common in war. Only needing to take a glance at everyone, she could see the struggle with uncertainty within the palatini. For soldiers, being stagnated was a death sentence.
Before heading to the comment tent, she checked on the wounded. She had learned that officers and warrior figures like herself checking on a warrior's weakest moment usually increased morale among the rest of the troops. It showed that they cared about their lives and suffering.
Once she arrived at the medical tent, the woman healer was busy treating a sick man. From what she could see on the man's bare skin, he was hit by poison. The others were in just as bad shape.
When Natilite entered the tent, it was clear that everyone saw her presence. A sight she had grown used to. "What happened?"
The healer stood up and gave the proper mannerisms of respect to the Templar. "I was not expecting someone of your stature to come here. I apologize for how messy my tent is."
"Never apologize for treating the wounded," Natilite said. "When it comes to them, formalities come second. Now, please tell me what happened. How did they get poisoned this badly?"
"Goblins," the healer said. "They infested this place and had to force them out. These are the last three who are recovering."
"They are always full of surprises," Natilite said before approaching one of the wounded. "Yes, they are."
To the wounded legionary confusion, Natilite knelt and walked over to the injured man's bed. She took the man's hand with her left hand, and with her right, she placed it on his forehead.
With the softness of her hands, she could already see the pain and suffering leaving his eyes, not because of healing magic or medicine but solely based on her soft, feminine hands. It always shocked her how such a gentle touch from a woman could easily remove all the pain and suffering from a man's heart. A power only her sex seemed to have.
"My fellow legionary. We ask Logia to bless our fallen and protect the souls that we lost during these trying times. But we also ask for the strength to continue. I ask Tekali and all her siblings to bless this man's sacrifice and give bless that he is remembered for his deeds."
Seeing the wounded legionary eyes entering a peaceful mind, Natilite stood up and addressed the other wounded soldiers. She took her side armor plating flaps and did a form of curtsy for the men. "Thank you for honoring me with your presence. Stay true."
As the Templar left the tent, she could see the renewed spirits of the soldiers, who were most likely eavesdropping, adding some excitement from their daily taste and giving something positive and heartwarming over standing here waiting for something to happen.
With her charity work complete, Natilite headed to talk to the head Centurion of this palatini before leaving for Salva. The Valkyrie walked through the orlilla, the Temple of Indolass. She saw how rundown the place was. Broken walls, what were once considered buildings barely standing. The stone ground is broken. A place that had been lost over time. While the historian Sage would say that this place was once a thriving temple, her eyes struggled to see its present state.
The Valkyrie thought little of this place. Preferring civilization over the ruins. While the orilla had no scent, she could smell the depression, death, and history of this place. Nothing alive and warm. All reminding her of the failures that led to this path.
Based on her little time here, she could see that this place was at a disadvantage in its defense without the defensive wall. The enemy could use the high ground to rain artillery and block means of escape.
As Natilite walked through the encampment, soldiers continued to stop to show their respect. Usually a bow, a salute, or acknowledging her Templar statues. While she appreciated their gestures, she couldn't stop for every soldier. Making sure they felt honored while on this mission and that their deeds would save their future brothers.
Will save their future brothers….
As a rule, Natilite had always tried to walk the path that she spoke. But even now, it was starting to seem that their mission here might not be the saving grace they all once hoped. One of the worst parts of war was having the free time to reflect on the current situation and their surroundings. Think of all the possible outcomes and the odds. And right now, there had been plenty of time to think.
Regarding Raegel Holiadon, Natilite was thrilled that his life's work had finally come to fruition. It never crossed her mind that the story behind her cousin's race was true. She had assumed it was the excuse for the Orcs and J'avias to hate on the Lats for being more successful than they were.
Still, life achievement or not, the fact that the Bridge had not opened concerned her, and she could see it in everyone's eyes. While the men were professionals and hid their true feelings, she could read them like a book. Under any other circumstance, this discovery would have been an accomplishment of a lifetime that would have been celebrated worldwide; however, just like how it interfered with every other aspect of society, this discovery was just another casualty.
The worst part of being the man who made the most significant discovery in history would be that he would have handed it to the enemy if he had not figured out how to activate it. It was only a matter of time before the enemy finally discovered their presence, and they would quickly be swarmed without mercy. If that happened before making contact, then there was no way they could survive.
After entering the command tent, Natilite saw Centurion Fionntan Henness with his staff. While maintaining their collectiveness, she could tell there had been a tense conversation.
Stopping at the entrance, she decided to wait and respect their privacy. During her time as a Templar, she had learned when to intervene in a conversation among military folks and when not, understanding their chain of command. Being someone in her position could bring ease and tension within military and political leadership as Templars are more free agents than within their structure.
Their conversation only lasted a few more minutes. Once finished, most other officers left, leaving Henness staring at a map.
Seeing her moment, the Templar approached the table and said, "That looked intense. Everything alright?"
"Just discussing our current situation," Henness said. "How can I serve a Templar?"
"I am here to serve you." Natilite saw the centurion's confused reaction. "I have word from the City-States I visited."
"Are they on our side or not?" Henness asked.
"I was able to convince Salva, but the rest, no," Natilite said as she pointed toward the map.
"Only Salva?"
The city of Salva was not the Templar's first choice to recruit to their cause, but being the closest to the temple, it was the logical choice. They were smaller than the other major regional players within the Nevali region; it had been extended past their former glory days. While they were rundown, they still wanted to fight. Loyal to the previous region before Kallem annexed the territory.
She was impressed by their spirit and pride.
"Yes," Natilite said. "They were loyal to the old regime and hated how things were going. They are dying, and they see this as their only option."
"What about the rest?" Henness asked.
"They are firmly in Toriffa grip. The Verliance Aristocracy made sure to place loyal minions within their noble class. Apparently, Kallem has also been making promises with these people, trying to treat them more as partners than subjects. Smart of him."
"And it does not help that we are losing the war."
While Natilite was trying to avoid stating the obvious, he was correct. No one likes joining the losing side in a war. Uprising against a far superior enemy solely based on a legend is foolish. Still, she knew that she had to try.
"Maybe so; it is better than nothing," Natilite said. "It means people have not given up in this war. At least enough to put their lives on the line."
"I hope so," Henness said. "If the enemy comes before we activate the Bridge, I cannot guarantee their survival. Still, you are correct. This is a massive win for us, and I must utilize it."
"And that brings me to why I am here. I request a detachment to be sent to Salva as a show of good faith and to strengthen their defenses."
Centurion Fionntan Henness looked toward her and said, "I wish I could, but it is not wise to split my forces up. We are only a palatini, not a full cohort."
"I understand that," Natilite said. "I want you to know that in the end, I will respect your decision. But first, think about the people of Salva. They will ally with you, and you should show them the same respect. And based on the defense position I saw here, if the enemy attacks, the longer Salva holds out, the better off you are here."
She watched as Henness carefully studied the map. She could tell that the man was running through every possible situation in his mind, and based on his reaction, he was coming to the same conclusion as she did.
The centurion took a deep breath and looked at her. "You will get them."
"Thank you," Natilite said. "Now, I should head back to Salva and make further preparations. "
The two gave final gestures, and the Templar left. She took one last look at the temple and hoped it would be worth it. I decided to place faith in Tekali and wait to see how events played out.
2/08/2048 (military calendar)
Ulysses Tholus, Tharsis Montes, Mars
Olympic Base Camp
*****
Staring at the pulsing orb through the laboratory glass wall, Captain Taylor Miles wondered what the significance of this discovery was. Two were dead, one seriously wounded, with multiple other near-death personnel - all for an orb smaller than a basketball.
It had been two weeks since they found the orb, waiting for the retrieval team to return it to Earth. While modern technology had dropped the transportation time between Earth and Mars to less than a month, those few weeks felt like forever after what had happened. Everyone still felt uneasy knowing there was an unknown number of enemy machine-warrior right next to them.
From what Colonel Gallivan informed him, NASA made a public statement about the casualties, stating that they were caused by a drilling accident. Taylor Miles was not surprised by the lie, seeing that the brass was trying to get ahead of the narrative. It would keep the general population from asking too many questions, as this was not the only time this had happened in the frontier world. Outside of that, this new outpost has yet to be mentioned. The brass wanted to keep this quiet as long as possible, and he couldn't blame them.
Outside of the general public concern, there had been no issues with the other Great Powers. While it would only be a matter of time before a foreign nation noticed their activities, he was surprised there had been no noise from it. They had not seen their presence or remained quiet. Either way, he was thrilled events had been uneventful since all this began.
Since finding this alien orb, questions kept running through his head. Who built it, when did they, why was it triggered now, and dozens of others?
"Captain."
Hearing Technical Sergeant Kyomi Hata's voice from the module intercom, he pressed the button and asked, "Are they close?"
"Yes. They are in Mars orbit and are entering geosynchronous orbit. They will be ready to drop in fifteen."
"Roger," Miles said before he switched the intercom to the research laboratory. "Start securing the object for extraction."
The American and Japanese scientists took the pulsing orb from the containment glass box and moved the object into a sealed personal-size container. Once confident they had fulfilled all safety protocols, they brought it to the decontamination transfer section. The red light turned green after a short defection spray over the container.
"Alright, sir, the package is ready to go."
Miles grabbed the container and headed out of the laboratory module. Waiting outside were two Marines who were meant to be his security. To his surprise, he barely felt any weight. Most of it came from the container and not from the object inside.
As the three walked through the compound, to his surprise, Tactical Sergeant Kyomi Hata approached. Since the attack, she had wanted to stay away from the alien sphere as she barely survived her encounter with the humanoid machine.
"Finally getting out of the shell?" Miles jokingly asked.
"I was getting cooped up," Hata replied. "Besides, I wanted to ensure this little Akuma was gone once and for all."
"I would say those things inside the facility were Akuma's," Miles replied jokingly.
"You have a point," Hata said. "When are we going back in?"
"We will be going back inside the mountain of the gods once we get reinforcements from Earth and the proper equipment," Miles looked up as he was informed that the space capsule was incoming. From what he could tell, it was an Aether-class capsule. It was expected to use them to land on almost any celestial body with low gravity or local transportation between stations. Even with Mars's low gravity, landing and launching independently was still beyond the capsule's ability without being heavily modified.
Up within the heavens, they saw a very familiar sight. A small fireball fell from the sky and headed to their position. For anyone who has been to Mars, this was a well-known moment, known as the six minutes of terror. Going twelve thousand miles a second until they reached the surface was considered the journey's most dangerous and terrifying.
The space capsule's thrusters ignited while its three parachutes popped out from its top as it descended. As it drew closer, the Martian-rusted dust turned into a miniature dust ball, sweeping the surrounding area.
Everyone was in spacesuits, so none of them were in any danger from the outside hazards of this world. Still, they couldn't help but raise their hands to protect themselves from the dust storm. While Miles could barely see through the dust, he saw the craft touched down a short distance away.
"Talk about an entrance," Hata said. "Never thought I would be in the thick of it. We just broke five safety regulations."
"Actually, it's four," Miles replied as the dust settled.
"No, it was five. I read the book on the flight here from Luna."
"Of course you did."
The dust started to dissipate, and four figures could be seen exiting the capsule.
"Let's go," Miles said.
The two Marines took point, providing security as the four walked toward the four CIA operatives. Three operatives approached while one stayed by the spacecraft, acting as a rear guard.
Miles saw that the operatives were also armed as they drew closer. P52's, he assumed. Almost as if they were expecting something.
Once they got closer, Taylor Miles could see their suits' network signal. He connected to their frequency and said, "Welcome to Mars."
"Captain Miles, I assume," Nelson said.
"That is correct."
The two groups finally met. However, each armed guard kept their fingers on the triggers, watching their superior talk.
"Surprised how armed you all are," Miles said. "Expecting something?"
"Shouldn't I be?" Nelson asked. "I heard reports that you had three MIA's. That is a red flag I do not like. RIA? CCP? Zhongguo? It wouldn't surprise me if it were the WEL, India, or my grandmother."
Taylor Miles was about to respond with a correction; however, he stopped himself, a fact that Nelson did not miss. Based on the Commander's statement, the operative was unaware of what happened within the alien facility and probably assumed that the drilling accident was a convenient cover story. The CIA commander knew something had happened and was taking no risks.
"We had a situation; however, it was handled," Miles replied. "I am under direct orders from Space Command not to give further details."
"I understand," Nelson said. "The package?"
Miles lifted the container, staring at it, wondering what ripple effects this would have. The only thing he knew was that this was the beginning of something. Something that he hoped his people would be ready for.
Nelson took the container and quickly lifted it, staring at it. "It is lighter than I expected."
"That is what I said," Miles replied.
Nelson smirked and nodded. "Alright, our business is done."
And just like that, the three operatives turned and walked toward their capsule.
"That was freaky," Hata stated. "It felt like one of those cowboy movies."
"They're called Westerns," Miles corrected.
"Same thing."
He watched as the operatives entered their space capsule. Soon enough, the Aether thrusters ignited, lifting back toward the heavens. He was surprised it didn't need any additional thrust or fuel to get back into orbit, assuming it was heavily modified for whatever it needed.
The dust cloud re-emerged from the ignition blast, engulfing the four of them. Hearing from Kyomi that they should get out of the mini dust storm, he agreed, and the four started heading back to the camp.
submitted by PWOFalcon to HFY [link] [comments]
Temple of Indolass, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie,
Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore
*****
Feeling the smooth marble-like wall, Fraeya Holiadon searched for any clues to a secret passage, door, or symbols that could assist them in fixing the Bridge.
While the Palatini of Orias had been at the temple grounds far longer than expected, all efforts had been focused on investigating why the Bridge wouldn't open. This gave her time to study the interior of this structure, realizing that she would have been the first in thousands of years. Based on the exterior side of the mountain, some formations could be closed off balconies, making her conclude that there was more to this place than just this chamber.
To her surprise, time had not degraded the interior, unlike most structures that were left to decay. Everything looked fresh. Dusty but fresh, almost marble-like; however, she couldn't figure out what type of marble it was.
Fraeya stopped once she felt a slight bump within the wall. She carefully double-checked that she had indeed found something. When her fingers couldn't find a bump, she started believing it was her imagination playing tricks. However, with one last slow sweep of her hand, she found what she felt before. Confirming that there was a bump within the smooth wall, she noted it in her journal. "That makes three."
"Three of what?"
The elf girl's ears perked from the unknown feminine voice; she turned and saw a woman approaching. Not just any woman, beautiful golden eyes, fair pale skin, and silk-like light blond hair. She wore slick light gray armor with golden lining and a small crystal on her upper chest. Behind her were these short but pure white feathered wings on her back. - a Valkyrie.
The Valkyrie woman stopped with a confused look and asked, "I am sorry if I scared you."
"I…, I did not know we had a Valkyrie among us." Fraeya then got a better view of the woman's armor, noticing a plate with the Templar symbol. She quickly bowed to the woman. "You are a Templar. I apologize that I did not recognize you. It is an honor to be in your presence."
She felt the woman place both hands on her shoulders and raise her back to eye level.
"Please," the Valkyrie said. "I never liked these types of formalities. Especially among friends."
Fraeya stared at the woman with confusion. While she had never met a Templar, everyone at the academy talked about them almost religiously. They are the most elite warriors of Alagore, being considered the Heart of Tekali—maintainers of the peace and protectors of the common folk. So, the stories say.
"I am sorry," Fraeya said. "At the academy, we were taught the proper mannerisms around a Templar like yourself."
"I understand, but we are not at the academy," the Valkyrie said.
"A fact I keep learning."
The Valkyrie looked over and saw Fraeya's father sitting alone. "With your father sitting over there by that thing, you must be his daughter. It was…, Fraeya, correct?"
Fraeya stood there in confusion. She couldn't help but cross her arms as she failed to recall meeting this woman. "I apologize. I do not wish to be rude, but have we met before today?"
Before the Valkyrie woman could respond, Fraeya heard her father yell the woman's name.
"Natilite, you have finally come." Raegel walked up, took the Valkyrie by the hand, and kissed it. "I was wondering when you were going to arrive."
"Still the romantic," the Natilite said. "It is nice to see you again, Reagel. I would have been here sooner, but convincing the City-States to join our cause had proven troublesome."
"As I feared and expected," Raegel said. "Did any join our cause?"
The Valkyrie held her hand up to silence Raegel. "I have lots to say, but first, I do not think your daughter remembers me."
Raegel looked toward his daughter and laughed. "My apologies. Fraeya, this is an old friend of mine, Natilite. Natilite, this is my daughter, Fraeya."
The Templar took Fraeya's hand gently and held it up with a smile. "It is nice to meet you in person finally."
Staring at the Valkyrie golden eyes, Fraeya felt nervous and embarrassed as she was scared by this woman's confidence. The words struggled to form within her mouth.
Natilite pulled back but giggled. "I apologize if I was too forward."
"No, no," Fraeya said. "It is not that. It is nice to meet you, Natilite. How long have you two been friends?"
"Oh, a long time now, I think," Natilite said.
"It has been," Raegel said. "We met one day during a dig. If I recall, the nearby town hired you to kill me."
Fraeya's ears perked again after hearing what her father said. She then watched the valkyrie chuckle. "You tried to kill my father?"
"It was my job," Natilite said. "I remember it was yesterday. I was passing by, and the townsfolk begged me to kill this elf who was disrespecting these ruins from the old era. So, I rushed off to kill him."
"Why would you do such a thing?" Fraeya asked. She then felt her father place a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
"It is okay, my daughter," Raegel said. "It is water under the bridge. You know most people do not like it when people bother the ruins. Most think they are cursed and all that."
"Well," Natilite said. "I would still agree that they are cursed, but when I found your father, I decided to spy on him and see what he was doing. Only a fool would risk their lives in exploring the orilla."
Orilla. Past civilizations, ruins, structures, legends. If the children of Alagore agreed on anything, that orilla must be forgotten and feared. What remains of it litters throughout Alagore. Some ruins lay underground, within mountains. Very rarely, some are in plain sight, either from decay or destroyed from some orlilla warfare. Fraeya learned from the academy that no one can search for anything from orlilla.
She does not understand why. Her father always said that was why he left Thali'ean, as they kept impeding his world. Why she did not know why the elves made searching for anything related to orlilla taboo, she heard plenty of stories from the professors of fools going to search for these ruins and relics. The professors said the lucky ones found nothing, while the unlucky ones were dead.
"I would agree with you," Fraeya said with a chuckle. "My father can be a fool. But I want to know what happened."
"As I watched," Natilite said. "I realized that he was not dangerous. Maybe to himself, but no one else. So, I studied him for a few days. Wondering what he was trying to do. I only showed myself once a party of orcs came."
"You fought off a party of orcs alone!? I knew valkyries were skilled warriors, but one cannot defeat a horde. And I mean no offense, a female warrior would…. I mean…, I am impressed the worst did not unfold." Fraeya placed her hands on her cheeks as she struggled to properly what she wanted to say. She felt the stress of what she wanted to say and what was the proper way to say it.
Natilite smiled and placed her hand on her sword handle. "No offense taken, as I understand. The world can be cruel and dangerous toward the weak." She then glanced away for a moment. Her smile switched from a smile to a neutral reaction before smiling again. "This is why we sharpen our skills in a lifestyle and not a profession. To deal with situations like that, to protect the people."
"Very wise," Raegel said as he approached. "You are forgetting one important detail. That you are a Templar, I think that gives you a little advantage over the rest of the world."
Natilite blushed in response. "There is that."
As the two bantered, Fraeya was shocked by what had been said. While she always wondered about her father's adventures, he had been on. The places and the people he met on the way. It never passed her that he would befriend someone from this station.
"While I am happy to see you again Natilite, I need to get back to work," Raegel said. "Please excuse me."
"I understand," Natilite replied. "We should catch up afterward."
Fraeya watched as her father walked away to continue his work. She then turned to ask the Valkyrie more questions. "So, did my father ask you to aid us?"
"Yes, he did," Natilite replied. "I was part of an advance force to secure some allies before you arrived."
The Templar then crossed her arms and started down the chamber. "So, that is your father's lifelong dream? It looks different than I expected."
Turning to face the orlilla device, she turned toward the Templar and said, "Yes, it is, and that is what everyone said."
"Interesting. And this is the device that is supposed to open this… place…. Is it called Alkae?"
"Father calls it Altaerrie."
"Altaerrie. So, that means the Lats legend is true. The home of humanity so the story says. They did come here long ago from another world. Because you are all sitting around, and it is not glowing, I assume it is not working?"
"Sadly, no, it is not," Fraeya replied. "When we put this orb into it that my father found, he thought it would activate it. But the only thing that happened was that the crystal in the center started blinking orange. It has been like that for weeks."
"Why do you think that is?" Natilite asked.
"I have no idea," Fraeya replied. "It has been very frustrating and has placed a lot of stress on my father. He had not left that spot, and I felt useless as all this was beyond me. On one hand, he made the biggest discovery in the world; on the other hand, it became a massive failure."
"I can understand that feeling."
Fraeya Holiadon clapped her hands and said, "Maybe you can go over and help."
The Templar looked at the young elf and then at her father, who was sitting on the floor, reading his piles of books. "I do not think that is a good idea."
Freya struggled to understand why this woman rejected her idea. "But…, my father needs you. You two are old friends who helped him in his research."
"Being a bodyguard does not mean I understand anything he has done." Natilite carefully stared at Raegel, as if she was reading through the man. She then looked back towards her. "I was planning to, but honestly, I think he needs his daughter more than me right now."
Fraeya looked toward her father and thought about what she could do. She then returned to the Valkyrie; however, the woman was already leaving the chamber.
She took a deep breath and made her father's favorite tea before walking toward him. "You need a break. You will not figure this out being this exhausted."
Raegel Holiadon slammed the book shut and rubbed his eyes, clearly frustrated with the current situation. He turned and forced a smile, taking the drink. "Thank you, my dear." She watched him take a sip and was thrilled to see some enjoyment in her father's reaction.
"See. A short break can be healthy."
"That is what your mother always said," Raegel said. "She always pointed out that I was more human than elf. Always working as if I was running out of time."
A moment of silence had appeared between the two as she struggled to figure out what to reply. She remembered her mother and missed her greatly.
It was Raegel who broke the silence. "I am sorry for dragging you here. It was a mistake."
Confused by the statement, Fraeya sat down next to her father. "You did not drag me here, father; I wanted to come."
"And I should have said no. But I wanted you to be next to me during this moment. I was trying to compensate for those lost years when I was not around you and your mother. Now, I regret breaking that belief. I have failed everyone in this world. Everyone who followed me here. Failed as an explorer. But more importantly, as a husband and father."
"No, you did not fail. Look, everyone thought you were crazy. You have proven that everything you believed was correct. A lost piece of our history."
Fraeya then looked down at the pile of books, most of which he authored. "Maybe we just missed something."
"It is possible," Raegel said. "I have been skimming through all my work and found nothing."
Noticing a dark green book, Fraeya grabbed and opened it. Seeing her father's famous note-taking ability that only he understood. "Can you show me how everything works? Maybe running through everything step by step will help?"
That is when Fraeya noticed a proud grin from her father.
"Why not," Raegel said. "If we are going to start, let's start with this one."
*****
The skylight blinded the Templar Natilite as she exited the mountain. While her sight was superior to the races who walk the ground, they are more sensitive to sunlight.
It took a moment for her valkyrie eyes to readjust, and once she regained her vision, she saw the encampment. The Lats were spread throughout what remained of the temple ruins. The Palatini of Orias, elite warriors entrusted with this mission, had fortified this place to the best of their abilities; however, she could tell they didn't plan on a siege. While their loyalty and commitment to the task were without question, she could see the lack of morale in the current situation.
Natilite couldn't blame them. The mission had turned out differently than expected, which was common in war. Only needing to take a glance at everyone, she could see the struggle with uncertainty within the palatini. For soldiers, being stagnated was a death sentence.
Before heading to the comment tent, she checked on the wounded. She had learned that officers and warrior figures like herself checking on a warrior's weakest moment usually increased morale among the rest of the troops. It showed that they cared about their lives and suffering.
Once she arrived at the medical tent, the woman healer was busy treating a sick man. From what she could see on the man's bare skin, he was hit by poison. The others were in just as bad shape.
When Natilite entered the tent, it was clear that everyone saw her presence. A sight she had grown used to. "What happened?"
The healer stood up and gave the proper mannerisms of respect to the Templar. "I was not expecting someone of your stature to come here. I apologize for how messy my tent is."
"Never apologize for treating the wounded," Natilite said. "When it comes to them, formalities come second. Now, please tell me what happened. How did they get poisoned this badly?"
"Goblins," the healer said. "They infested this place and had to force them out. These are the last three who are recovering."
"They are always full of surprises," Natilite said before approaching one of the wounded. "Yes, they are."
To the wounded legionary confusion, Natilite knelt and walked over to the injured man's bed. She took the man's hand with her left hand, and with her right, she placed it on his forehead.
With the softness of her hands, she could already see the pain and suffering leaving his eyes, not because of healing magic or medicine but solely based on her soft, feminine hands. It always shocked her how such a gentle touch from a woman could easily remove all the pain and suffering from a man's heart. A power only her sex seemed to have.
"My fellow legionary. We ask Logia to bless our fallen and protect the souls that we lost during these trying times. But we also ask for the strength to continue. I ask Tekali and all her siblings to bless this man's sacrifice and give bless that he is remembered for his deeds."
Seeing the wounded legionary eyes entering a peaceful mind, Natilite stood up and addressed the other wounded soldiers. She took her side armor plating flaps and did a form of curtsy for the men. "Thank you for honoring me with your presence. Stay true."
As the Templar left the tent, she could see the renewed spirits of the soldiers, who were most likely eavesdropping, adding some excitement from their daily taste and giving something positive and heartwarming over standing here waiting for something to happen.
With her charity work complete, Natilite headed to talk to the head Centurion of this palatini before leaving for Salva. The Valkyrie walked through the orlilla, the Temple of Indolass. She saw how rundown the place was. Broken walls, what were once considered buildings barely standing. The stone ground is broken. A place that had been lost over time. While the historian Sage would say that this place was once a thriving temple, her eyes struggled to see its present state.
The Valkyrie thought little of this place. Preferring civilization over the ruins. While the orilla had no scent, she could smell the depression, death, and history of this place. Nothing alive and warm. All reminding her of the failures that led to this path.
Based on her little time here, she could see that this place was at a disadvantage in its defense without the defensive wall. The enemy could use the high ground to rain artillery and block means of escape.
As Natilite walked through the encampment, soldiers continued to stop to show their respect. Usually a bow, a salute, or acknowledging her Templar statues. While she appreciated their gestures, she couldn't stop for every soldier. Making sure they felt honored while on this mission and that their deeds would save their future brothers.
Will save their future brothers….
As a rule, Natilite had always tried to walk the path that she spoke. But even now, it was starting to seem that their mission here might not be the saving grace they all once hoped. One of the worst parts of war was having the free time to reflect on the current situation and their surroundings. Think of all the possible outcomes and the odds. And right now, there had been plenty of time to think.
Regarding Raegel Holiadon, Natilite was thrilled that his life's work had finally come to fruition. It never crossed her mind that the story behind her cousin's race was true. She had assumed it was the excuse for the Orcs and J'avias to hate on the Lats for being more successful than they were.
Still, life achievement or not, the fact that the Bridge had not opened concerned her, and she could see it in everyone's eyes. While the men were professionals and hid their true feelings, she could read them like a book. Under any other circumstance, this discovery would have been an accomplishment of a lifetime that would have been celebrated worldwide; however, just like how it interfered with every other aspect of society, this discovery was just another casualty.
The worst part of being the man who made the most significant discovery in history would be that he would have handed it to the enemy if he had not figured out how to activate it. It was only a matter of time before the enemy finally discovered their presence, and they would quickly be swarmed without mercy. If that happened before making contact, then there was no way they could survive.
After entering the command tent, Natilite saw Centurion Fionntan Henness with his staff. While maintaining their collectiveness, she could tell there had been a tense conversation.
Stopping at the entrance, she decided to wait and respect their privacy. During her time as a Templar, she had learned when to intervene in a conversation among military folks and when not, understanding their chain of command. Being someone in her position could bring ease and tension within military and political leadership as Templars are more free agents than within their structure.
Their conversation only lasted a few more minutes. Once finished, most other officers left, leaving Henness staring at a map.
Seeing her moment, the Templar approached the table and said, "That looked intense. Everything alright?"
"Just discussing our current situation," Henness said. "How can I serve a Templar?"
"I am here to serve you." Natilite saw the centurion's confused reaction. "I have word from the City-States I visited."
"Are they on our side or not?" Henness asked.
"I was able to convince Salva, but the rest, no," Natilite said as she pointed toward the map.
"Only Salva?"
The city of Salva was not the Templar's first choice to recruit to their cause, but being the closest to the temple, it was the logical choice. They were smaller than the other major regional players within the Nevali region; it had been extended past their former glory days. While they were rundown, they still wanted to fight. Loyal to the previous region before Kallem annexed the territory.
She was impressed by their spirit and pride.
"Yes," Natilite said. "They were loyal to the old regime and hated how things were going. They are dying, and they see this as their only option."
"What about the rest?" Henness asked.
"They are firmly in Toriffa grip. The Verliance Aristocracy made sure to place loyal minions within their noble class. Apparently, Kallem has also been making promises with these people, trying to treat them more as partners than subjects. Smart of him."
"And it does not help that we are losing the war."
While Natilite was trying to avoid stating the obvious, he was correct. No one likes joining the losing side in a war. Uprising against a far superior enemy solely based on a legend is foolish. Still, she knew that she had to try.
"Maybe so; it is better than nothing," Natilite said. "It means people have not given up in this war. At least enough to put their lives on the line."
"I hope so," Henness said. "If the enemy comes before we activate the Bridge, I cannot guarantee their survival. Still, you are correct. This is a massive win for us, and I must utilize it."
"And that brings me to why I am here. I request a detachment to be sent to Salva as a show of good faith and to strengthen their defenses."
Centurion Fionntan Henness looked toward her and said, "I wish I could, but it is not wise to split my forces up. We are only a palatini, not a full cohort."
"I understand that," Natilite said. "I want you to know that in the end, I will respect your decision. But first, think about the people of Salva. They will ally with you, and you should show them the same respect. And based on the defense position I saw here, if the enemy attacks, the longer Salva holds out, the better off you are here."
She watched as Henness carefully studied the map. She could tell that the man was running through every possible situation in his mind, and based on his reaction, he was coming to the same conclusion as she did.
The centurion took a deep breath and looked at her. "You will get them."
"Thank you," Natilite said. "Now, I should head back to Salva and make further preparations. "
The two gave final gestures, and the Templar left. She took one last look at the temple and hoped it would be worth it. I decided to place faith in Tekali and wait to see how events played out.
2/08/2048 (military calendar)
Ulysses Tholus, Tharsis Montes, Mars
Olympic Base Camp
*****
Staring at the pulsing orb through the laboratory glass wall, Captain Taylor Miles wondered what the significance of this discovery was. Two were dead, one seriously wounded, with multiple other near-death personnel - all for an orb smaller than a basketball.
It had been two weeks since they found the orb, waiting for the retrieval team to return it to Earth. While modern technology had dropped the transportation time between Earth and Mars to less than a month, those few weeks felt like forever after what had happened. Everyone still felt uneasy knowing there was an unknown number of enemy machine-warrior right next to them.
From what Colonel Gallivan informed him, NASA made a public statement about the casualties, stating that they were caused by a drilling accident. Taylor Miles was not surprised by the lie, seeing that the brass was trying to get ahead of the narrative. It would keep the general population from asking too many questions, as this was not the only time this had happened in the frontier world. Outside of that, this new outpost has yet to be mentioned. The brass wanted to keep this quiet as long as possible, and he couldn't blame them.
Outside of the general public concern, there had been no issues with the other Great Powers. While it would only be a matter of time before a foreign nation noticed their activities, he was surprised there had been no noise from it. They had not seen their presence or remained quiet. Either way, he was thrilled events had been uneventful since all this began.
Since finding this alien orb, questions kept running through his head. Who built it, when did they, why was it triggered now, and dozens of others?
"Captain."
Hearing Technical Sergeant Kyomi Hata's voice from the module intercom, he pressed the button and asked, "Are they close?"
"Yes. They are in Mars orbit and are entering geosynchronous orbit. They will be ready to drop in fifteen."
"Roger," Miles said before he switched the intercom to the research laboratory. "Start securing the object for extraction."
The American and Japanese scientists took the pulsing orb from the containment glass box and moved the object into a sealed personal-size container. Once confident they had fulfilled all safety protocols, they brought it to the decontamination transfer section. The red light turned green after a short defection spray over the container.
"Alright, sir, the package is ready to go."
Miles grabbed the container and headed out of the laboratory module. Waiting outside were two Marines who were meant to be his security. To his surprise, he barely felt any weight. Most of it came from the container and not from the object inside.
As the three walked through the compound, to his surprise, Tactical Sergeant Kyomi Hata approached. Since the attack, she had wanted to stay away from the alien sphere as she barely survived her encounter with the humanoid machine.
"Finally getting out of the shell?" Miles jokingly asked.
"I was getting cooped up," Hata replied. "Besides, I wanted to ensure this little Akuma was gone once and for all."
"I would say those things inside the facility were Akuma's," Miles replied jokingly.
"You have a point," Hata said. "When are we going back in?"
"We will be going back inside the mountain of the gods once we get reinforcements from Earth and the proper equipment," Miles looked up as he was informed that the space capsule was incoming. From what he could tell, it was an Aether-class capsule. It was expected to use them to land on almost any celestial body with low gravity or local transportation between stations. Even with Mars's low gravity, landing and launching independently was still beyond the capsule's ability without being heavily modified.
Up within the heavens, they saw a very familiar sight. A small fireball fell from the sky and headed to their position. For anyone who has been to Mars, this was a well-known moment, known as the six minutes of terror. Going twelve thousand miles a second until they reached the surface was considered the journey's most dangerous and terrifying.
The space capsule's thrusters ignited while its three parachutes popped out from its top as it descended. As it drew closer, the Martian-rusted dust turned into a miniature dust ball, sweeping the surrounding area.
Everyone was in spacesuits, so none of them were in any danger from the outside hazards of this world. Still, they couldn't help but raise their hands to protect themselves from the dust storm. While Miles could barely see through the dust, he saw the craft touched down a short distance away.
"Talk about an entrance," Hata said. "Never thought I would be in the thick of it. We just broke five safety regulations."
"Actually, it's four," Miles replied as the dust settled.
"No, it was five. I read the book on the flight here from Luna."
"Of course you did."
The dust started to dissipate, and four figures could be seen exiting the capsule.
"Let's go," Miles said.
The two Marines took point, providing security as the four walked toward the four CIA operatives. Three operatives approached while one stayed by the spacecraft, acting as a rear guard.
Miles saw that the operatives were also armed as they drew closer. P52's, he assumed. Almost as if they were expecting something.
Once they got closer, Taylor Miles could see their suits' network signal. He connected to their frequency and said, "Welcome to Mars."
"Captain Miles, I assume," Nelson said.
"That is correct."
The two groups finally met. However, each armed guard kept their fingers on the triggers, watching their superior talk.
"Surprised how armed you all are," Miles said. "Expecting something?"
"Shouldn't I be?" Nelson asked. "I heard reports that you had three MIA's. That is a red flag I do not like. RIA? CCP? Zhongguo? It wouldn't surprise me if it were the WEL, India, or my grandmother."
Taylor Miles was about to respond with a correction; however, he stopped himself, a fact that Nelson did not miss. Based on the Commander's statement, the operative was unaware of what happened within the alien facility and probably assumed that the drilling accident was a convenient cover story. The CIA commander knew something had happened and was taking no risks.
"We had a situation; however, it was handled," Miles replied. "I am under direct orders from Space Command not to give further details."
"I understand," Nelson said. "The package?"
Miles lifted the container, staring at it, wondering what ripple effects this would have. The only thing he knew was that this was the beginning of something. Something that he hoped his people would be ready for.
Nelson took the container and quickly lifted it, staring at it. "It is lighter than I expected."
"That is what I said," Miles replied.
Nelson smirked and nodded. "Alright, our business is done."
And just like that, the three operatives turned and walked toward their capsule.
"That was freaky," Hata stated. "It felt like one of those cowboy movies."
"They're called Westerns," Miles corrected.
"Same thing."
He watched as the operatives entered their space capsule. Soon enough, the Aether thrusters ignited, lifting back toward the heavens. He was surprised it didn't need any additional thrust or fuel to get back into orbit, assuming it was heavily modified for whatever it needed.
The dust cloud re-emerged from the ignition blast, engulfing the four of them. Hearing from Kyomi that they should get out of the mini dust storm, he agreed, and the four started heading back to the camp.
2024.05.31 20:15 Future_Ad_3485 Paranormal Inc. Part Sixteen: The Sting of Wasp!
Morte:
Sitting in my ramble of a shack, today was my last day. My wife had been found and I was going to be working by her side. Staring down at my bloody hands, my bounty hunting days were over. Climbing into my beat up truck, the engine rumbled to life. Speeding towards the tower I was going to call home, my heart wouldn’t stop beating out of my chest. Pulling up to the building tears welled up in my eyes, a ball of water washing any blood off of me. Hopping out, time froze at the sight of my wife. Her looks were the same, the few differences being her salt and pepper hair and ruby eyes. Shifting around uncomfortably, her rockabilly dress matched her personality. Wanting to run up and kiss her, my mind knew better than to act on my impulses.
“I am Corpsia but you can call me Corpsy if it is easier. You must be my assistant.” She chirped cheerfully, the emotional agony of our past hiding behind her broken smile. “You might die all over again if you stay out here for too long. I don’t bite.” Curling her fingers around mine, both of us paused with the same looks we used to give each other. Ripping her hand back, a quick apology tumbled from her lips. Following her to the basement, a couple bodies waited for us.
“Do you know any of the cuts or am I going to have to teach you?” She teased with a wink while tossing me a white lab coat, her trembling hands tugging on hers. “I feel like I know you. Have we met before?” Too nervous to answer, she hadn’t put two and two together. Not wanting to dig up old wounds, a simple shrug of my shoulders shut down the conversation. Motioning for me to join her side, her broken smile had my heart shattering. Showing me the ropes, her slender hands moved swiftly. Scribbling down what she told me, this moment couldn’t be any nicer. Shoving the bodies back into their marked spaces, her gloves hit the bottom of the trash can. Shimmying off her coat, she hung it up.
“Are you into Chinese food or can I order something else? It is my treat.” She inquired with a shell of what her smile used to be, her hand resting on her hip. Mumbling that anything would do, her boots clicked away. Ordering food, my eyes caught a flawless drawing of our children. Tears had smeared the gray lines, a silent tear sliding down my cheek. Picking up the picture behind it, my breath hitched at the perfect picture of me. Dropping her phone as she came in, tears welled up in her eyes. Shit, what did I do?
“I lost my husband and family before becoming a demon. They slit their throats before dragging me off to be hung. My father-in-law was a piece of shit. I drew those pictures about one hundred years ago to hold against my chest when things simply don’t feel right.” Taken aback by her words, quiet sobs spoke of a decaying composure. Watching her walking away, the scene glitched out. A six foot tall female demon sauntered into view, golden and onyx waves blended together to float around her shoulders. Her inky insect eyes glittered with malice, her striped suit reminded me of a yellow jacket. Spinning a jet black stinger in her palm, the goddess energy coming off of her had me stumbling back. Honey colored water flooded around my boots, her voice sounded like thousands of them at once.
“It seems I hopped into the wrong dream. Oh well. I suppose the one who carries decay will have to suffice for the moment.” She mused darkly, panic rounding out my eyes at the water not allowing me to move. Sauntering up to me, her cruel grin widened the moment she slid her stinger through my stomach. Blood poured into the water the second she ripped it out, her hands curling around my throat. Lifting me out of the water, the water turned a dark orange.
“Who are you?” I growled through gritted teeth, my fingers scratching at the hands. Wicked laughter exploded from her lips, air becoming a rare commodity with her strengthening grip. Bringing me inches from her face, giant yellow jackets hummed behind her.
“You can call me Waspia, your bringer of death!” She bragged with another cruel fit of laughter, neon lights blinding her. A voice called for me to wake up, her grip loosening. An angry red claimed my cheeks, a swift kick to her gut sent her flying back. Splashing into the water, a sharp clap had me snapping awake.
Sucking in a deep breath, my hands felt my abs for the wound. Sinking into the passenger seat with a long sigh consisting of honest relief, neon smoke threatened to choke me. Eris sucked in her own deep breath, her hair floating like it always did.
“You got lost somewhere. Are you going to be focused on our mission today? Every part of me wants to make Corpsy proud. I happen to be fond of her.” She sang with a shake of her shoulders, her smile falling at the tears cascading from my eyes. “Hel is with her today at that dumb meeting. I can’t believe she got promoted already.” Wut poked his head through the window, his hair floating up in her field of energy.
“That doesn’t mean we should stop worrying about her. She gets that numb look quite a bit.” He pointed out simply, his own scythes hitting the window. “You kept making weird noises. Are you okay?” Shooting him a shaky thumbs up, they had nothing to worry about. Fussing with my simple ruby dress shirt and dark jeans, my dear friend had a point. Energy built in the air, the wheels crunching to a halt in front of a warehouse nature had devoured. Ominous humming had us shrinking back. Knowing that she had wasps to fight for her, those pests would have to be taken out first. Wasps drowned, my eyes scanning the area for a large enough vat to go through with my plan. An empty pool a few feet from us had me grinning wickedly to myself, a snap of my fingers had a wave of water splashing into the pool. Picking up a rock, the nest wiggled enough to reveal itself. Rolling the rock in my finger, my team had to be the best they could be.
“Run to safety if you need to. A nest is about to be disturbed.” I warned them with a sly grin, Eris cracking her whip. Glowing eyes flitted between the nest and me, the rock hitting the paper nest with a dull thud had a flurry of human sized yellow jackets hummed furiously. Insects eyes focused on me, human screams giving me pause. Grinning sarcastically to myself, Murphy’s law had struck again.
“Save the people without getting your asses murdered!” I ordered impatiently, whistling to steal the wasps attention. Cutting my palm on a piece of metal on the way to the pool, the angry insects zoomed after me. Jumping into the pool, cool water felt nice on my skin. Blood muddied the water, three quarters of them decaying the moment they splashed into the water. Pulling myself out, the next step was seeking out Waspia. Spinning my scythe in my palm, a force had my heart stopping for a second. Corspy’s blood tainted the air, the bloodied pictures of us floating to my feet. Dropping a limp Corpsy and Hel to my feet, Waspia fluttered over my head. Purple claimed their veins, Hel struggling to her feet. Raising her blade in the air, a wasp stung her in the heart. A barely alive Corpsy slammed her fist onto the dirt, a spike impaling the insect. A cloud of dirt obscured her rough landing, blood pouring from the corner of her mouth. Using the tree to get her feet, Stormana made an appearance by Hel. Picking her up off the ground, her sword cut off Hel’s head. A tortured scream exploded from Corpsy’s lips, shadows devouring the space. Kicking her blade from the dagger’s case, her eager palm caught the expanding blade.
“Focus on Waspia. I can hold my own.” She barked with a quivering snarl, wild sobs wracking her body. “I can’t lose you again.” Dropping Hel’s corpse, Stormana’s blade clashed with hers violently. Coughing up a thick ooze, concern dimmed my eyes. Her speed doubled to match Stormana’s, the two becoming balls of light in the forest. A stinger whistled by my head, my fingers curling round her ankle. The ground split slightly the moment I slammed her down, my heel digging into her chest. Eris flew past me, her whip cracking in the still night air. Swinging my blade towards her neck, the goddess grinned one last time before accepting the blow. Decay ate at her body, a gracious thank you flooding from her lips. The giant nest crumbled to a pile of dust, the shadows glitching out. Wut’s robe fluttered the moment his fingers snatched my shirt, the two of us zooming towards the real fight. Skidding to a rough halt, Corpsy had undone her limit. Bleeding from every hole in her face, she needed to stop. A wave of flames headed our way, a wave of my hand giving rise to a wave of water. Eris fought by her side, my wife begging for her to stop.
“Go away! Go away!” She pleaded with wet eyes, her body taking a blow for her. Bones cracked, Eris rolling across the dirt. Cracking her whip, the leather curled around her good arm. Yanking her to the ground, her arms buried into a tackle. Neon green tears splashed onto her face, her pleas stopping Stormana in her tracks.
“Just because she died doesn’t mean you have to join her. Hel fought hard to protect you and lost her life. Honor her sacrifice by living!” She begged with an honest smile, her body collapsing onto hers. “You are like my sister, damn it!” Those words woke her up, her expression softening into an apologetic smile. Breaking into uncontrollable sobs, her arms clung to her like her life depended on it. Digging into her back, nothing would slow the tears. Stormana raised her blade, our turn coming up.
“Throw me into the fight.” I snapped impatiently, Wut throwing me with all he had. Rolling into a couple of flips, her attention turned to me. Fear rounded my eyes, the monster was immense. Tapping her blade against her legs, the color draining from my cheeks. A clammy sweat drenched my skin, Wut joining my side. Rubbing his scythes together, an eerie fog drowned the space. Unable to move her feet, Eris’ whip held her place. A broken Corpsy stared numbly into the sky, a rough slumber stealing her away. Nudging me, it was time to do one of our older bounty hunting tactics. Running away in opposite directions, her words cut deeper I let on.
“Does your wife know about your bounty hunter days?” She taunted cruelly, her eyes meeting mine. “Did I touch a nerve? Would she think less of you? The lowest rung of demons wouldn’t have you. What a powerful whip!” Bending down to pick it up, the opportunity presented itself. Pushing off the ground, realization dawned on me. We couldn’t win this battle without Corpsy, a sharp whistle canceling the plan. Wut nodded once before pushing off her back at the same time, his arms scooping up the ladies. Sprinting back towards the hearse, our window of escape would be miniscule at best. Scooping up Hel’s body on the way back, silent tears staining my cheeks at her body decaying upon my touch. Tossing Wut her heart before it decayed, his palm caught it. Tucking it into his robe, the ground shook behind us. Spinning my scythe in my palm, we needed a touch more time. Slamming the tip into the ground, dirt crumbled into a deep canyon. Falling into the biggest part, time wasn’t on my hands. Jumping into the driver’s seat, the scythe hit the leather. Cranking the key, the engine wouldn’t turn over. Panic mixed with frustration, low growls rumbled away in my throat.
“Come on! Come on, damn it!” I cursed tersely, hot flames casting her shadow in the canyon. The engine roared to life, the tires squealed in protest. Peeling onto the highway, horror rounded my eyes at the flaming motorcycle flying onto the road. When did the surprises end? Pressing the gas pedal to the floor, a crowd would provide us safety. Unfortunately, the sun wouldn’t rise for a couple of hours. Zooming around the turns, her motorcycle wobbled in protest with each turn. An abandoned racetrack had me thinking of a way to throw her off of her bike, the tires squealing with my abrupt turn. Smashing through the gate, Eris tapped my shoulder from the back. A wave of golden flames was heading our way, the heat would melt the hearse in seconds.
“Jump!” I barked over the chaos, doors opening at the same time. Hitting the cracked track, our bodies rolled into an untamed bush. Flames melted the hearse into a smoking pile of metal, the bike squealing to halt. Tapping the concrete, my scythe flew into my palm. A burn hissed to life, Wut covering my mouth to keep our cover. Summoning a bubble of water, the coolness eased the pain. Eris had my wife over her shoulders, the people from the warehouse gathered to see what caused the fire. Flames whisked Stormana away, a few of them calling emergency services. Catching our breath while waiting, Wut dialed Roseworth’s number. Hanging up in a couple of minutes, his mouth moved. Words weren’t hitting my ears, red and blue lights bathing the racetrack. Roseworth shoved her way through while presenting her badge, a tired smile lingering on my lips as she crouched down to my level. Smoothing out her designer suit, her smile fell.
“I am going to take over the investigation and you can get out of the bushes then.” She whispered discreetly while pretending to examine the bushes. “Where is Hel? I don’t see Corpsy without her.” My lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp wit placing the pieces of the puzzle together. Pressing her palms together, a small prayer tumbled from her lips.
“I am sorry for your loss. May Hel have a lovely afterlife.” She spoke gently, rising to her feet. Ordering everyone else to clear out, the local police officers guided the survivors into their cruisers. Roseworth’s team moved in to collect a few clues, her agents not looking up from their tasks. Guiding us to a black SUV, her shaking hand pressed the keys into my palm. Corpsy sucked in a deep breath, her feet hitting the concrete. Opening a door to one of the many gods’ realm, the door slammed shut on our face. Roseworth offered sincerely to take her home, Wut feeling around his pocket. The heart was gone, bewilderment twisting our features. Uncomfortable with leaving her behind, Wut and Eris leapt into the trees. Neon danced with black, the two of them heading back home. Refusing to leave, Corpsy would need me. Letting me sit in the car, the door opened up. A dejected Corpsy stepped out fresh tears cascading down her cheeks, her arms reaching for me. Hopping out of the car, her body smashed into me. Sobbing violently into my chest, her fingers dug into my back. Sinking to her knees, her hands glided down my legs. Burying her face into her palms, tears dribbled down her arm. The early morning painted her in pale pink, the dirt crunching as she curled into a ball. Remembering how she would do this on a bad day, her fingers traced the dirt with her dagger. Hel’s dagger shimmered in her other hand, another wave of sobs paralyzing her.
“I hate myself. Why do people keep trying to save me?” She whimpered into the concrete, her quaking hand slamming the tip of her blade into the concrete repeatedly. How long had it been since she broke down this horribly? Roseworth got onto her knees across from her, her hand cupping hers. Slowing the stabbing to a clumsy stop, her thumbs wiped away her tears. Maybe she could get her well enough to get up.
“How about we go out for breakfast and get some food into that stomach?” She suggested with a cautious grin, her arms yanking her into a bear hug. “I think of you as a sister. Don’t you ever leave me. I can’t live without you, my dear.” Mumbling a quick fine, she carried her to the SUV. Tossing me the keys, the leather groaned the moment I climbed into the driver’s seat. Sliding in next to Corpsy, her steady hand laid her head on her lap. Playing with her hair, the whole way to the nearest diner. The bell announced us walking into the silver restaurant, a cold waitress taking us to a booth by the biggest window. Staring numbly out the window, more tears splashed onto the table. Her lips parted to speak, the others shoving their way into diner. The girls and Miles squirming their way over to her, Roseworth winking in my direction. Brightening up enough to keep the kids happy, her lips brushed against the top of their heads feverishly. Clutching their bunnies close to their chest, Cal came in with a pad of paper and pencils. Sliding them over to her, he plopped down next to me.
“Draw out your emotions and carry them with you. I want to see what you can do.” He commented casually with his broken smile, apprehension burning in her eyes. Opening up the package, the waitress took our orders. The pencil’s tips never stopped dancing across the page, a childlike wonder brightening our eyes. The kids watched with dropped jaws, two pictures had mixed emotions flashing on our faces. Two perfect portraits of Croak and Hel stared back up at us with their trademark smiles, the pencil bouncing off of the pad. When did she learn to draw so well?
“I am sorry I failed you all.” She apologized sincerely, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Hel will always have a place in our hearts. Have faith in me. Never again will I let any of you die.” Fussing with her onyx robe, her finger traced the mask hanging out of her pocket. A commotion had our heads snapping towards the door, Hel coming in with the skeleton half of her face exposed. Leaping over the table, Corspy smashed into her. Tears of joy brightened her eyes, so many questions resting on the tips of our tongues.
“They didn’t seem to want to keep me there. Perhaps, I was a little loud.” She bragged with a big grin, her dagger flying into her hand. “How could I leave you alone in this god awful world? There is a catch to the deal I made. I die with you and that is that. You can’t go dying on me, okay.” Corpsy nodded her head vigorously, Hel cupping her face. Wiping away her tears with her thumbs, their bond was obvious. Dragging her to the table, the waitress rolled her eyes at another person. Shoving everyone down, her hand refused to leave hers. Calling for Hel to come chat with me for a moment, Corpsy was more than happy to entertain everyone with her genuine smile. Meeting her by the bathroom, my arms folded across my chest.
“How did you really come back down?” I interrogated her intensely, her smile falling. “Don’t you dare lie! Don’t ever leave us again. You fucking broke her!” Chuckling softly to herself, her hands crossed before her head bowed in shame. Crap! I might have gone too far again.
“I made a deal with the head god to be tied to her until she dies. I remember darkness and then the head god ripped me out of it. All of me couldn’t leave her alone to suffer. I pleaded and pleaded until they finally let me have my wish.” She admitted tearfully, wiping away her tears. “I will never be able to hide my face again. I gave that up for her. I love her like a sister, okay. When I was going to die, the numb expression from Croak’s death was all I could think of. Forgive me for caring.” Holding her shoulders with a gracious smile, any anger was gone. Her sacrifice wouldn’t go unnoticed, her natural smile returning.
“Thank you so much. My respect will always be yours to have.” I promised with a tired grin, both of us standing in an awkward silence for way too long. “Go on and guard her.” Nodding with the biggest smile, Hel had most certainly changed for the better. Coming out to see her admiring the drawings, her plea to keep hers was honored. Watching them blend together seamlessly, the flames of hope burned bright.
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Sitting in my ramble of a shack, today was my last day. My wife had been found and I was going to be working by her side. Staring down at my bloody hands, my bounty hunting days were over. Climbing into my beat up truck, the engine rumbled to life. Speeding towards the tower I was going to call home, my heart wouldn’t stop beating out of my chest. Pulling up to the building tears welled up in my eyes, a ball of water washing any blood off of me. Hopping out, time froze at the sight of my wife. Her looks were the same, the few differences being her salt and pepper hair and ruby eyes. Shifting around uncomfortably, her rockabilly dress matched her personality. Wanting to run up and kiss her, my mind knew better than to act on my impulses.
“I am Corpsia but you can call me Corpsy if it is easier. You must be my assistant.” She chirped cheerfully, the emotional agony of our past hiding behind her broken smile. “You might die all over again if you stay out here for too long. I don’t bite.” Curling her fingers around mine, both of us paused with the same looks we used to give each other. Ripping her hand back, a quick apology tumbled from her lips. Following her to the basement, a couple bodies waited for us.
“Do you know any of the cuts or am I going to have to teach you?” She teased with a wink while tossing me a white lab coat, her trembling hands tugging on hers. “I feel like I know you. Have we met before?” Too nervous to answer, she hadn’t put two and two together. Not wanting to dig up old wounds, a simple shrug of my shoulders shut down the conversation. Motioning for me to join her side, her broken smile had my heart shattering. Showing me the ropes, her slender hands moved swiftly. Scribbling down what she told me, this moment couldn’t be any nicer. Shoving the bodies back into their marked spaces, her gloves hit the bottom of the trash can. Shimmying off her coat, she hung it up.
“Are you into Chinese food or can I order something else? It is my treat.” She inquired with a shell of what her smile used to be, her hand resting on her hip. Mumbling that anything would do, her boots clicked away. Ordering food, my eyes caught a flawless drawing of our children. Tears had smeared the gray lines, a silent tear sliding down my cheek. Picking up the picture behind it, my breath hitched at the perfect picture of me. Dropping her phone as she came in, tears welled up in her eyes. Shit, what did I do?
“I lost my husband and family before becoming a demon. They slit their throats before dragging me off to be hung. My father-in-law was a piece of shit. I drew those pictures about one hundred years ago to hold against my chest when things simply don’t feel right.” Taken aback by her words, quiet sobs spoke of a decaying composure. Watching her walking away, the scene glitched out. A six foot tall female demon sauntered into view, golden and onyx waves blended together to float around her shoulders. Her inky insect eyes glittered with malice, her striped suit reminded me of a yellow jacket. Spinning a jet black stinger in her palm, the goddess energy coming off of her had me stumbling back. Honey colored water flooded around my boots, her voice sounded like thousands of them at once.
“It seems I hopped into the wrong dream. Oh well. I suppose the one who carries decay will have to suffice for the moment.” She mused darkly, panic rounding out my eyes at the water not allowing me to move. Sauntering up to me, her cruel grin widened the moment she slid her stinger through my stomach. Blood poured into the water the second she ripped it out, her hands curling around my throat. Lifting me out of the water, the water turned a dark orange.
“Who are you?” I growled through gritted teeth, my fingers scratching at the hands. Wicked laughter exploded from her lips, air becoming a rare commodity with her strengthening grip. Bringing me inches from her face, giant yellow jackets hummed behind her.
“You can call me Waspia, your bringer of death!” She bragged with another cruel fit of laughter, neon lights blinding her. A voice called for me to wake up, her grip loosening. An angry red claimed my cheeks, a swift kick to her gut sent her flying back. Splashing into the water, a sharp clap had me snapping awake.
Sucking in a deep breath, my hands felt my abs for the wound. Sinking into the passenger seat with a long sigh consisting of honest relief, neon smoke threatened to choke me. Eris sucked in her own deep breath, her hair floating like it always did.
“You got lost somewhere. Are you going to be focused on our mission today? Every part of me wants to make Corpsy proud. I happen to be fond of her.” She sang with a shake of her shoulders, her smile falling at the tears cascading from my eyes. “Hel is with her today at that dumb meeting. I can’t believe she got promoted already.” Wut poked his head through the window, his hair floating up in her field of energy.
“That doesn’t mean we should stop worrying about her. She gets that numb look quite a bit.” He pointed out simply, his own scythes hitting the window. “You kept making weird noises. Are you okay?” Shooting him a shaky thumbs up, they had nothing to worry about. Fussing with my simple ruby dress shirt and dark jeans, my dear friend had a point. Energy built in the air, the wheels crunching to a halt in front of a warehouse nature had devoured. Ominous humming had us shrinking back. Knowing that she had wasps to fight for her, those pests would have to be taken out first. Wasps drowned, my eyes scanning the area for a large enough vat to go through with my plan. An empty pool a few feet from us had me grinning wickedly to myself, a snap of my fingers had a wave of water splashing into the pool. Picking up a rock, the nest wiggled enough to reveal itself. Rolling the rock in my finger, my team had to be the best they could be.
“Run to safety if you need to. A nest is about to be disturbed.” I warned them with a sly grin, Eris cracking her whip. Glowing eyes flitted between the nest and me, the rock hitting the paper nest with a dull thud had a flurry of human sized yellow jackets hummed furiously. Insects eyes focused on me, human screams giving me pause. Grinning sarcastically to myself, Murphy’s law had struck again.
“Save the people without getting your asses murdered!” I ordered impatiently, whistling to steal the wasps attention. Cutting my palm on a piece of metal on the way to the pool, the angry insects zoomed after me. Jumping into the pool, cool water felt nice on my skin. Blood muddied the water, three quarters of them decaying the moment they splashed into the water. Pulling myself out, the next step was seeking out Waspia. Spinning my scythe in my palm, a force had my heart stopping for a second. Corspy’s blood tainted the air, the bloodied pictures of us floating to my feet. Dropping a limp Corpsy and Hel to my feet, Waspia fluttered over my head. Purple claimed their veins, Hel struggling to her feet. Raising her blade in the air, a wasp stung her in the heart. A barely alive Corpsy slammed her fist onto the dirt, a spike impaling the insect. A cloud of dirt obscured her rough landing, blood pouring from the corner of her mouth. Using the tree to get her feet, Stormana made an appearance by Hel. Picking her up off the ground, her sword cut off Hel’s head. A tortured scream exploded from Corpsy’s lips, shadows devouring the space. Kicking her blade from the dagger’s case, her eager palm caught the expanding blade.
“Focus on Waspia. I can hold my own.” She barked with a quivering snarl, wild sobs wracking her body. “I can’t lose you again.” Dropping Hel’s corpse, Stormana’s blade clashed with hers violently. Coughing up a thick ooze, concern dimmed my eyes. Her speed doubled to match Stormana’s, the two becoming balls of light in the forest. A stinger whistled by my head, my fingers curling round her ankle. The ground split slightly the moment I slammed her down, my heel digging into her chest. Eris flew past me, her whip cracking in the still night air. Swinging my blade towards her neck, the goddess grinned one last time before accepting the blow. Decay ate at her body, a gracious thank you flooding from her lips. The giant nest crumbled to a pile of dust, the shadows glitching out. Wut’s robe fluttered the moment his fingers snatched my shirt, the two of us zooming towards the real fight. Skidding to a rough halt, Corpsy had undone her limit. Bleeding from every hole in her face, she needed to stop. A wave of flames headed our way, a wave of my hand giving rise to a wave of water. Eris fought by her side, my wife begging for her to stop.
“Go away! Go away!” She pleaded with wet eyes, her body taking a blow for her. Bones cracked, Eris rolling across the dirt. Cracking her whip, the leather curled around her good arm. Yanking her to the ground, her arms buried into a tackle. Neon green tears splashed onto her face, her pleas stopping Stormana in her tracks.
“Just because she died doesn’t mean you have to join her. Hel fought hard to protect you and lost her life. Honor her sacrifice by living!” She begged with an honest smile, her body collapsing onto hers. “You are like my sister, damn it!” Those words woke her up, her expression softening into an apologetic smile. Breaking into uncontrollable sobs, her arms clung to her like her life depended on it. Digging into her back, nothing would slow the tears. Stormana raised her blade, our turn coming up.
“Throw me into the fight.” I snapped impatiently, Wut throwing me with all he had. Rolling into a couple of flips, her attention turned to me. Fear rounded my eyes, the monster was immense. Tapping her blade against her legs, the color draining from my cheeks. A clammy sweat drenched my skin, Wut joining my side. Rubbing his scythes together, an eerie fog drowned the space. Unable to move her feet, Eris’ whip held her place. A broken Corpsy stared numbly into the sky, a rough slumber stealing her away. Nudging me, it was time to do one of our older bounty hunting tactics. Running away in opposite directions, her words cut deeper I let on.
“Does your wife know about your bounty hunter days?” She taunted cruelly, her eyes meeting mine. “Did I touch a nerve? Would she think less of you? The lowest rung of demons wouldn’t have you. What a powerful whip!” Bending down to pick it up, the opportunity presented itself. Pushing off the ground, realization dawned on me. We couldn’t win this battle without Corpsy, a sharp whistle canceling the plan. Wut nodded once before pushing off her back at the same time, his arms scooping up the ladies. Sprinting back towards the hearse, our window of escape would be miniscule at best. Scooping up Hel’s body on the way back, silent tears staining my cheeks at her body decaying upon my touch. Tossing Wut her heart before it decayed, his palm caught it. Tucking it into his robe, the ground shook behind us. Spinning my scythe in my palm, we needed a touch more time. Slamming the tip into the ground, dirt crumbled into a deep canyon. Falling into the biggest part, time wasn’t on my hands. Jumping into the driver’s seat, the scythe hit the leather. Cranking the key, the engine wouldn’t turn over. Panic mixed with frustration, low growls rumbled away in my throat.
“Come on! Come on, damn it!” I cursed tersely, hot flames casting her shadow in the canyon. The engine roared to life, the tires squealed in protest. Peeling onto the highway, horror rounded my eyes at the flaming motorcycle flying onto the road. When did the surprises end? Pressing the gas pedal to the floor, a crowd would provide us safety. Unfortunately, the sun wouldn’t rise for a couple of hours. Zooming around the turns, her motorcycle wobbled in protest with each turn. An abandoned racetrack had me thinking of a way to throw her off of her bike, the tires squealing with my abrupt turn. Smashing through the gate, Eris tapped my shoulder from the back. A wave of golden flames was heading our way, the heat would melt the hearse in seconds.
“Jump!” I barked over the chaos, doors opening at the same time. Hitting the cracked track, our bodies rolled into an untamed bush. Flames melted the hearse into a smoking pile of metal, the bike squealing to halt. Tapping the concrete, my scythe flew into my palm. A burn hissed to life, Wut covering my mouth to keep our cover. Summoning a bubble of water, the coolness eased the pain. Eris had my wife over her shoulders, the people from the warehouse gathered to see what caused the fire. Flames whisked Stormana away, a few of them calling emergency services. Catching our breath while waiting, Wut dialed Roseworth’s number. Hanging up in a couple of minutes, his mouth moved. Words weren’t hitting my ears, red and blue lights bathing the racetrack. Roseworth shoved her way through while presenting her badge, a tired smile lingering on my lips as she crouched down to my level. Smoothing out her designer suit, her smile fell.
“I am going to take over the investigation and you can get out of the bushes then.” She whispered discreetly while pretending to examine the bushes. “Where is Hel? I don’t see Corpsy without her.” My lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp wit placing the pieces of the puzzle together. Pressing her palms together, a small prayer tumbled from her lips.
“I am sorry for your loss. May Hel have a lovely afterlife.” She spoke gently, rising to her feet. Ordering everyone else to clear out, the local police officers guided the survivors into their cruisers. Roseworth’s team moved in to collect a few clues, her agents not looking up from their tasks. Guiding us to a black SUV, her shaking hand pressed the keys into my palm. Corpsy sucked in a deep breath, her feet hitting the concrete. Opening a door to one of the many gods’ realm, the door slammed shut on our face. Roseworth offered sincerely to take her home, Wut feeling around his pocket. The heart was gone, bewilderment twisting our features. Uncomfortable with leaving her behind, Wut and Eris leapt into the trees. Neon danced with black, the two of them heading back home. Refusing to leave, Corpsy would need me. Letting me sit in the car, the door opened up. A dejected Corpsy stepped out fresh tears cascading down her cheeks, her arms reaching for me. Hopping out of the car, her body smashed into me. Sobbing violently into my chest, her fingers dug into my back. Sinking to her knees, her hands glided down my legs. Burying her face into her palms, tears dribbled down her arm. The early morning painted her in pale pink, the dirt crunching as she curled into a ball. Remembering how she would do this on a bad day, her fingers traced the dirt with her dagger. Hel’s dagger shimmered in her other hand, another wave of sobs paralyzing her.
“I hate myself. Why do people keep trying to save me?” She whimpered into the concrete, her quaking hand slamming the tip of her blade into the concrete repeatedly. How long had it been since she broke down this horribly? Roseworth got onto her knees across from her, her hand cupping hers. Slowing the stabbing to a clumsy stop, her thumbs wiped away her tears. Maybe she could get her well enough to get up.
“How about we go out for breakfast and get some food into that stomach?” She suggested with a cautious grin, her arms yanking her into a bear hug. “I think of you as a sister. Don’t you ever leave me. I can’t live without you, my dear.” Mumbling a quick fine, she carried her to the SUV. Tossing me the keys, the leather groaned the moment I climbed into the driver’s seat. Sliding in next to Corpsy, her steady hand laid her head on her lap. Playing with her hair, the whole way to the nearest diner. The bell announced us walking into the silver restaurant, a cold waitress taking us to a booth by the biggest window. Staring numbly out the window, more tears splashed onto the table. Her lips parted to speak, the others shoving their way into diner. The girls and Miles squirming their way over to her, Roseworth winking in my direction. Brightening up enough to keep the kids happy, her lips brushed against the top of their heads feverishly. Clutching their bunnies close to their chest, Cal came in with a pad of paper and pencils. Sliding them over to her, he plopped down next to me.
“Draw out your emotions and carry them with you. I want to see what you can do.” He commented casually with his broken smile, apprehension burning in her eyes. Opening up the package, the waitress took our orders. The pencil’s tips never stopped dancing across the page, a childlike wonder brightening our eyes. The kids watched with dropped jaws, two pictures had mixed emotions flashing on our faces. Two perfect portraits of Croak and Hel stared back up at us with their trademark smiles, the pencil bouncing off of the pad. When did she learn to draw so well?
“I am sorry I failed you all.” She apologized sincerely, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Hel will always have a place in our hearts. Have faith in me. Never again will I let any of you die.” Fussing with her onyx robe, her finger traced the mask hanging out of her pocket. A commotion had our heads snapping towards the door, Hel coming in with the skeleton half of her face exposed. Leaping over the table, Corspy smashed into her. Tears of joy brightened her eyes, so many questions resting on the tips of our tongues.
“They didn’t seem to want to keep me there. Perhaps, I was a little loud.” She bragged with a big grin, her dagger flying into her hand. “How could I leave you alone in this god awful world? There is a catch to the deal I made. I die with you and that is that. You can’t go dying on me, okay.” Corpsy nodded her head vigorously, Hel cupping her face. Wiping away her tears with her thumbs, their bond was obvious. Dragging her to the table, the waitress rolled her eyes at another person. Shoving everyone down, her hand refused to leave hers. Calling for Hel to come chat with me for a moment, Corpsy was more than happy to entertain everyone with her genuine smile. Meeting her by the bathroom, my arms folded across my chest.
“How did you really come back down?” I interrogated her intensely, her smile falling. “Don’t you dare lie! Don’t ever leave us again. You fucking broke her!” Chuckling softly to herself, her hands crossed before her head bowed in shame. Crap! I might have gone too far again.
“I made a deal with the head god to be tied to her until she dies. I remember darkness and then the head god ripped me out of it. All of me couldn’t leave her alone to suffer. I pleaded and pleaded until they finally let me have my wish.” She admitted tearfully, wiping away her tears. “I will never be able to hide my face again. I gave that up for her. I love her like a sister, okay. When I was going to die, the numb expression from Croak’s death was all I could think of. Forgive me for caring.” Holding her shoulders with a gracious smile, any anger was gone. Her sacrifice wouldn’t go unnoticed, her natural smile returning.
“Thank you so much. My respect will always be yours to have.” I promised with a tired grin, both of us standing in an awkward silence for way too long. “Go on and guard her.” Nodding with the biggest smile, Hel had most certainly changed for the better. Coming out to see her admiring the drawings, her plea to keep hers was honored. Watching them blend together seamlessly, the flames of hope burned bright.
2024.05.31 15:31 4990 Pillars of Longevity
Preventative Cardiology
Focuses on measures to prevent heart disease and improve cardiovascular health through lifestyle changes, medications, and monitoring.Metabolic Health and Body Composition
Addresses issues related to metabolism, weight management, and body composition to enhance overall health and reduce the risk of metabolic diseases like diabetes.
Hormone Replacement and Sexual Health
Involves the use of hormone therapy to balance hormonal levels, improve sexual health, and address conditions like menopause or low testosterone.Cancer Screening and Prevention
Emphasizes early detection and prevention of cancer through regular screenings, genetic testing, and lifestyle modifications to reduce cancer risk.Cognitive Enhancement and Dementia Prevention
Aims to improve cognitive function and delay the onset of dementia through brain-healthy habits, cognitive training, and neuroprotective interventions.Musculoskeletal Health
Focuses on maintaining and improving the health of bones, muscles, and joints to prevent and treat conditions like osteoporosis, arthritis, and other musculoskeletal disorders.Aesthetics
Involves treatments and procedures aimed at enhancing physical appearance, including skincare, anti-aging therapies, and cosmetic procedures.Emotional Wellness, Social Connectedness, and Ikigai
Promotes mental and emotional well-being, social relationships, and a sense of purpose (Ikigai) to improve quality of life and longevity.Microbiome and Gut Health
Studies the role of gut bacteria in overall health and uses dietary and lifestyle interventions to promote a healthy microbiome and digestive system.Geroprotective Agents
Explores substances and interventions that may protect against the effects of aging and extend lifespan, such as certain medications, supplements, and lifestyle practices.2024.05.31 15:01 PLUTO_HAS_COME_BACK Vibhajjavada and Sarvāstivāda—Part 12: Sarvāstivādi Śūnyavāda
Vibhajjavada and Sarvāstivāda: Analysing the Heart Sutra from Theravadin Perspective—Part 12
The Lotus Sutra does not peresent these types of emptiness; however, it presents interesting types of emptiness.
If mind is the only thing, why are the systems so complex? What is the need for many types of emptiness?
The first is similar to Sunna Sutta. See 5.1.12.
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5.1.8. Śūnyavāda
Śūnyavāda and Māyāvāda are two parts of Sarvāstivādi creationism and eternalism. Maya is the form (flesh and blood) and mind (Emptiness/Śūnya) is the External/Outside Agent in the form.[Heart (Red; page 6-7)]: Avalokiteshvara lists the major conceptual categories of the Sarvastivadin Abhidharma and considers each in the light of Prajnaparamita [...] Avalokiteshvara reviews the major signposts near the end of the path without introducing additional conceptual categories that might obstruct or deter those who would travel it.The Sarvāstivādi Lankavatara Sutra is the backbone of Mahayana, which was brought to China by Bodhidharma. The sutras that contradict Lankavatara is herectical. However, for some reasons, the Mahayanists did not stop producing new sutras, which might or might not agree with Lankavatara.
- So, can we be called 'the enlightenend' when we know our own svabhāva does not exist but buddha-svabhāva does in each of us?
Śūnyavāda
The Lankavatara Sutra demonstrates both Sarvāstivādi Śūnyavāda and Māyāvāda. It presents seven types of Emptiness, including the Emptiness of self-nature [Svabhāva-Śūnya], with very brief explanations that are insufficient to understand these concepts. They are too brief to understand the meaning and intention of "all of the five Skandhas are equally empty" and "form is emptiness, emptiness is form." That has left the Mahayanist scholars in disagreement and argument.Citta-matrata:
[Lanka Chapter 3:] emptiness of self-nature is meant that all things in their self-nature are un-born; therefore, it is said that things are empty as to self-nature [...] When it is recognized that the world as it presents itself is no more than a manifestation of mind, then birth is seen as no-birth,
- Mind: the only real thing. It is more real than existence.
- Manifestation of mind: maya or the world
- Birth exists, but it is imagination according to Lankavatara.
- all things in their self-nature are un-born: gotra-svabhāva? Tathāgatagarbha?
Seven Kinds of Emptiness
The Mahayanists present "Sixteen Kinds of Emptiness", "Eighteen Kinds of Emptiness within Four Kinds of Emptiness", "Sixteen kinds of emptiness", "Twenty kinds of emptiness", etc.The Lotus Sutra does not peresent these types of emptiness; however, it presents interesting types of emptiness.
If mind is the only thing, why are the systems so complex? What is the need for many types of emptiness?
[Lanka Chapter 3:] The Blessed One replied: What is emptiness, indeed! It is a term whose very self-nature is false-imagination, but because of one's attachment to false-imagination we are obliged to talk of emptiness, no-birth, and no self-nature.
- The Blessed One is the original Tathagata or the mind.
- False imagination is maya—it is the false imagination of the mind.
- A false imagination (illusion) cannot have false imagination.
- It is the false imagination of the mind or the original Tathagata.
- emptiness of mutuality which is non-existent;
- emptiness of individual marks;
- emptiness of self-nature;
- emptiness of no-work;
- emptiness of work;
- emptiness of all things in the sense that they are unpredictable, and
- emptiness in its highest sense of Ultimate Reality.
- Svabhāva-śūnya: the mortals do not have their own self (self-nature)
- 6. emptiness of all things in the sense that they are unpredictable: Emptiness of all things is unpredictable;
- Unpredictable nature is God. For example:
- Unpredictability is divine nature.
- Buddha-nature, as it is described, does not have the same attributes of divine-nature. However, emptiness has such qualities. Divine-nature in Mahayana comes in a number of flavours: Buddha-nature, emptiness, Maheśvara, Ālayavijñāna, etc.
Mahāprajñāpāramitāsūtra presents 18-20 kinds of emptiness
[Prajnaparamita (CONZE page 19):] Considering the paramount importance of the idea of emptiness, a list of 20 kinds of emptiness is particularly welcome. The term "emptiness" as such is said to mean "neither unmoved nor destroyed". "Unmoved" (a-kutastha) means that it overtowers (kiita) all change, is unchangeable in what it is, in its own being, "steadfast as a mountain peak, as a pillar firmly fixed". The opposite would be the change, or destruction, of its own being. Both of these are excluded.
[Prajnaparamita (CONZE page 48):] (22) to be trained in the eighteen kinds of emptiness, i.e. the emptiness of the subject, etc.
- "neither unmoved nor destroyed": Nothing is something. Emptiness is something eternal without change.
The first is similar to Sunna Sutta. See 5.1.12.
[Nagarjuna:] The eye is empty (śūnya): in it there is no ‘me’ (ātman) or ‘mine’ (ātmīya), and there is no dharma ‘eye’. It is the same for the ear, nose, tongue, body and mind.
- Why does Mahāprajñāpāramitāsūtra present different sets of emptiness?
- They are likely the works of different authors.
[Gelongma:] For the disciples of the Mahāyāna ‘Greater Vehicle’ who are of keen faculties (tīkṣnendriya), the emptiness of dharmas is taught, and immediately they know that saṃsāra is eternally empty (nityaśūnya) and the same as nirvāṇa.
- Lankavatara explains Nirvana is Samsara because the original Tathagata is eternal:
[Lanka Chapter 2:] Even Nirvana and Samsara's world of life and death are aspects of the same thing [emptiness]
- As Nirvana is Samsara, these sutras have no other shore but the shoreline around a lake.
- Lankavatara's the original Tathagata is not one of those who got to the other shore.
- Now we know that too, but what special purpose does that knowledge serve? Gelongma gives no examples.
[Gelongma:] For the disciples of the Hīnayāna ‘Lesser Vehicle’
- Gelongma demonstrates the Sarvāstivādis' fundamental antipathy to Vibhajjavada.
[Gelongma:] If the Buddha were to speak of only one single emptiness, the many wrong views (mithyādṛṣṭi) and passions (kleśa) could not be destroyed [...] People who cling to the nature of emptiness (śūnyatālakṣaṇābhiniviṣṭa) fall into [the extreme] of nihilism (ucchedānta); to speak of the eighteen emptinesses is to hit the target (lakṣya) right on. To speak of ten or fifteen emptinesses would likewise provoke doubts (saṃśaya), but this is not at issue.
- Gelongma gives no examples for his views.
- How many types of emptiness did Avalokiteśvara discover?
- Just one; it's Svabhāva-Śūnya (dharmaśūnyatā).
5.1.9. Avalokiteśvara discovered Svabhāva-Śūnya (Maya)
[Lanka Chapter 2:] the truths of the emptiness, un-bornness, no self-natureness, and the non-duality of all things.
- Emptiness or mind (vijñana) does not die, so is un-born. Both the original Tathagata and Krishna are un-born. The indestructible buddha-nature (in the body of mortals) is vijñana not different from soul.
- Non-duality means mind (buddha-nature) is real, maya is not—Citta-matrata (Vijñaptimātra).
- Mahayana accepts the five aggregates but rejects their svabhāva: anicca, dukkha, anatta. Vasubandhu's Abhidharmakosha does not reject dukkha.
- Vibhajjavadi Buddha did not deal with the concept of dual-nondual or un-bornness. Nonetheless, Nama-rupa are paramatthas and can be seen as dual. The five aggregates are anatta (anattavāda).
[Lanka Chapter 3:] the fundamental fact that the external world is nothing but a manifestation of mind... emptiness, no-birth, and no self-nature.
- No self-nature: Svabhāva-Śūnya is Maya (false imagination). Maya is the manifesation of mind.
- Mind is buddha-nature; Our buddha-nature is awareness (Bodhidharma).
[The Buddha nature (Six Senses):] Buddha nature means that the true nature of our mind is pure, right from the beginning, and has been so since the beginning of time. Although it is in itself perfectly unblemished, it becomes obscured, which prevents us from seeing it in its true form.
- Mind inside maya (the mortals) is aware and can imagine, pray and worship with hope for emancipation.
- It is a close system with the original Tathagata as the Godhead (godhood/buddha-nature). The original Tathagata is the Holy Ghost (emptiness/mind).
overcame all Ill-being
[Heart (Thich):] Avalokiteshvara while practicing deeply with the Insight that Brings Us to the Other Shore, suddenly discovered that all of the five Skandhas are equally empty, and with this realisation he overcame all Ill-being.
- Avalokiteśvara discovered Svabhāva-Śūnya (Maya).
- if all the five Skandhas are equally empty of own svabhāva (own self-nature), Saṃjñā is empty. Saṃskāra is empty. And vijñāna is empty of svabhāva, too.
- If vijñāna (mind) is empty of svabhāva, buddha-svabhāva (gotra-svabhāva) is empty of svabhāva. Then, Gotra-Svabhāva is empty of gotra-svabhāva, is fale imagination, maya.
- Gotra-svabhāva is ālayavijñāna and tathāgatagarbha.
This `gotra-svabhava` means that the gotra (seed nature) of the `Tathagata` exists in all sentient beings. [THE SIGNIFICANCE OF `TATHAGATAGARBHA`：A POSITIVE EXPRESSION OF `SUNYATA` (HENG-CHING SHIH)]
- According to citta-matra theory, that citta is the original Buddha/Tathagata, whose seeds are inside all the mortals—The original Tathagata's seeds are trying to grow up inside all of the bodhisattvas.
- As vijñāna is immortal Self (svabhāva), we should only say not all the five Skandhas but four are empty.
- If vijñāna is not ālayavijñāna or tathāgatagarbha, then we must add them among the five skandhas. Then, there are seven Skandhas, including rupa, vedanā, saṃjñā, saṃskāra, vijñāna, ālayavijñāna and tathāgatagarbha.
- Attavāda: The five Skandhas are equally empty of own svabhāva but occupied by Buddha-nature (mind)
- Anattavāda: mind (citta) is impermanance (anicca); impermanence is suffering (dukkha).
- Empty of svabhāva/self-nature sounds like anattavada. However, the indestructiblity of vijñāna (buddha-self-nature) is sassatavada and attavada.
Heart Sutra: Empty of Own svabhāva
[Heart (Red; pages 87)]: the Five Skandhas are empty of self-existence. [p77] Something that is empty of self-existence is inseparable from everything else, including emptiness. [p91] But if, as Avalokiteshvara tells us, all dharmas are empty of self-existence, impermanence 'no longer applies, as they neither come into being, nor do they cease to be. [p92] In the light of Prajnaparamita, all such states are seen to be empty of self-existence. [p94] And because such a self cannot be found, dharmas are said to be "empty of self-existence." [p120] But since the Five Skandhas are empty of self-existence, suffering must also be empty of self-existence. But if suffering is empty of self-existence, then there is no self that suffers. Thus, in emptiness there is no suffering, no source of suffering, no relief from suffering, and no path leading to relief from suffering. This is the basis of Avalokiteshvara's interpretation of the Four Truths. ['empty of self-existence' appears 13 times]
- That is Sarvastivādi Māyāvāda and Śūnyavāda.
- Is svabhāva translated as self-existence and self-nature because of self (atta)?
[Heart (Red; page 69):] Emptiness does not mean nothingness. It simply means the absence of the erroneous distinctions that divide one entity from another, one being from another being, one thought from another thought. Emptiness is not nothing, it's everything, everything at once. This is what Avalokiteshvara sees...
- the absence of the erroneous distinctions: That means the truth is all beings are connected, and there is no distinction between the original Tathagata, buddhas, bodhisattvas, ordinary beings... Some Mahayanists believe everyone is enlightened.
[Heart (Thich):] Thich Nhat Hanh considered emptiness is "totality" and "wholeness." If they are applied to Heart-Sutra, "all of the five Skandhas are equally empty" becomes "all of the five Skandhas are totality and wholeness."
- Thich Nhat Hanh's statement disagrees with sunyavada and Māyāvāda. Red Pine's "does not mean nothingness" sounds like Thich Nhat Hanh's view. If emptiness is totality and wholeness, emptiness does not mean emptiness.
[Heart (Red; page 75)]: But in the light of Prajnaparamita, form is not simply empty, it is so completely empty, it is emptiness itself, which turns out to be the same as form itself.
- Red Pine is a great Mahayanist scholar. Yet he, too, is confused about emptiness, mind, self, etc. Mahayanist scholars, including Thich Nhat Hanh, interpreted the Heart Sutra differently and are confused about emptiness profoundly.
[Heart (Red; page 33)]: Others say true appearances transcend such dialectics—that they are the absolute, subjective mind—the mind's self-nature.
- Self-nature is what is not empty but "totality" and "wholeness."
- With this self-nature, maya suffers:
EMPTINESS (SUCHNESS), NON-DUALITY AND NON-EXISTENCE
[Heart (Red; page 120, quoted in Heart (Dharmanet)):] Since the Five Skandhas are empty of self-existence, suffering must also be empty of self-existence. But if suffering is empty of self-existence, then there is no self that suffers. Thus, in emptiness there is no suffering, no source of suffering, no relief from suffering, and no path leading to relief from suffering. This is the basis of Avalokiteshvara’s interpretation of the Four Truths.
- then there is no self that suffers: there is buddha-self-nature that is aware of sufferings.
- if suffering is empty of self-existence, then there is no self that suffers: We can only guess if suffering has awareness (buddha-nature) of suffering or not.
- So, self-existence means self's existence, and self-nature means self's nature. That is all about self after all.
the Zen master immediately used his thumb and index finger to pinch and twist the novice’s nose. In great agony, the novice cried out “Teacher! You’re hurting me!” The Zen master looked at the novice. “Just now you said that the nose doesn’t exist. But if the nose doesn’t exist then what’s hurting?” [New Heart Sutra translation by Thich Nhat Hanh]
- If the mortals cannot suffer because they do not have their own selves (self-nature), why do we feel pain?
- If self is the thing that suffers, does the indestructible buddha-nature suffer?
- But we all know we feel the pain.
- Then, do the sutras indirectly mean the mortals have selves?
Vasubandhu
[Vasubandhu:] the five sense organs (eye, ear, nose, tongue, skin) can each be inferred from the awareness of their respective sensory objects. But, he [Vasubandhu] says, there is no such inference for the self [2.1 Disproof of the Self (Jonathan C. Gold)].
- Vasubandhu accepted the physical nature as reality and rejected self at first, but changed his mind later and became a founder of 'mind only' school, which resembles Māyāvāda. The Lankavatara Sutra presents Māyāvāda and ten stages towards Maheśvara and the Lotus Sutra presents the ekayāna (buddhahood is the only liberation).
“If the images of physical forms, and so on, were just consciousness, not physical things, then the Buddha would not have spoken of the existence of the sense bases of physical form, and so on.” [3. Approaches to Scriptural Interpretation (Jonathan C. Gold)]
- After converting to Mahayana, Vasubandhu rejected the physicality and advocated for 'mind only'as a founder of a Mahayanist school. The sutras transformed Mahayana into Māyāvāda.
Nāgārjuna: Rūpa Has Selves
The specific nature belonging to each dharma is, for example, the solidity (khakkhaṭatva) of earth (pṛthivi), the wetness (dravatva) of water (ap-), the warmth of fire (uṣṇatva) of fire (tejas), the mobility (īraṇatva) of wind (vāyu): such natures differentiate dharmas, each of which has its own nature”. [Tathata (Mahāprajñāpāramitāśāstra chapter XLIX)]
- The Tathata concepts suggests mental and physical aggeregates have selves, contradicting the Heart Sutra and the discovery of Avalokiteśvara.
- Tathata is not a common word in the Theravada literature.
[Theravada:] Tathata (“suchness”) designates the firmly fixed nature (bhāva) of all things whatever.—The only passage in the Canon where the word occurs in this sense, is found in Kath. 186 (s. Guide, p. 83).
5.1.11. Sarvāstivādi Eternalism
Tathatā also represents Sarvāstivādi eternalism that rejects anicca (impermanence):Tathatā represents the sameness of dharmas throughout the three times.
- Tathatā in that sense is the original Tathagata.
Hence at the time when the mental consciousness delivers it judgment, the perceptual cognition no longer exists since all things are momentary. [The Theory of Two Truths in India: 3.2 Ultimate truth (Sonam Thakchoe)]
- That is about form, not self-nature (svabhāva) and the eternal Tathagata.
- The Theravada monks observed the mind and body and developed direct knowledge, so they spoke about their discoveries. However, the Sarvāstivādi philosophers and scholars relied on speculative theories, and ended up with eternalism, which they originally belonged to.
Samkhara
[Samkara, a critic of non-authodox Buddhism,] divides Buddhism into three types: the “realists” (sarvāstitvādins), the “idealists” (vijñānavādins), and the “nihilists” (śūnyavādins) [...] in this simple threefold manner, and many would take great exception to the characterization of śūnyavāda, the “theory of the void” associated primarily with the Mādhyamika school of Nāgārjuna, as mere “nihilism.” [The Essential Vedanta Eliot Deutsch And Rohit Dalvi (PDF file) (Eliot Deutsch and Rohit Dalvi; page 126)]
- Mahayanist sects share the same sutras. Probably, their interpretations of these sutras made them different. They are unintentionally analysed when these sutras are analysed. Mahayanists are a mix of personalists and impersonalists. Probalby, Red Pine and Thich Nhat Hanh are good examples.
- Some accused Samkhara of borrowing the Sarvāstivādi concepts of Māyāvāda without considering they came from Brahmanism and Jainism. According to Suhotra Swami, Māyāvāda (Impersonalism) was very ancient (so it did not originate in Sarvāstivāda:
[Suhotra Swami] originally Vedanta meant Vaisnava-vedanta. The Vedanta-sutras were compiled by Vyasadeva, a Vaisnava. The Srimad Bhagavatam is the natural commentary on the Vedanta-sutra, written by Vyasadeva himself 5000 years ago. [VII. A historical comparison of Vaisnava-vedanta, Mayavadi-vedanta and Buddhism.]
Personalism
- Some believed Adi Samkara (Śaṅkarācārya) was rather a seudo-Buddhist.
- Yet his work is precisely sarvāstivādi, only the names are different:
[Bhajan & Kirtan Library:] Sankaracarya is supposed to be an impersonalist who preached impersonalism, impersonal Brahman, but it is a fact that he is a covered personalist. In his commentary on the Bhagavad-gita he wrote, "Narayana, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, is beyond this cosmic manifestation." And then again he confirmed, "That Supreme Personality of Godhead, Narayana, is Krsna. He has come as the son of Devaki and Vasudeva." He particularly mentioned the names of His father and mother. So Krsna is accepted as the Supreme Personality of Godhead by all transcendentalists. There is no doubt about it."[Sri Isopanisad, Introduction]
Svabhāva in Mahayana & Indian Religions
[Breakthrough Sermon (Bodhidharma):] Our buddha-nature [buddha-svabhāva/buddha self-nature] is awareness: to be aware and to make others aware. To realize awareness is liberation [...] The Sutra of the Ten Stages [Lankavatara] says, “In the body of mortals is the indestructible buddha-nature.
[Svabhāva (Wisdom Library)] Shaivism: [verse 9.5-11, while explaining the universality of Amṛteśa]—“Amṛteśa is supreme. He is free of disease. His nature is inherent (svabhāva), fully enumerated, constant, eternal, and immovable. [He has] no form or color, and is the highest truth. Because of that, he is omnipresent. The splendid Deva delights in all āgamas, pervades all mantras, and grants all siddhis. In this way, he is like a transparent crystal sewn onto a colored thread, always reflected with its color, [and] seeking [to] look like this and that. [...]”.
The Great Void (Emptiness) of Shaktism [Shakta and Shakti (Usha Chatterji):] Her own dark form is the Void (Shunya). As Digambari she is naked, but Her nakedness is space itself. "The series of universes appear and disappear with the opening and shutting of Her eyes". The Mother's play or this cosmic manifestation is a continual process of creation, maintenance and dissolution, usually symbolised by the Hindu Trinity, Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. [Studies in Comparative Religion, Vol. 2, No. 4 (Autumn, 1968)]
- A concept of svabhāva is shared among Breakthrough Sermon, Shaivism and Shaktism.
- Lankavatara's original Tathagata corresponds with Siva (Shaivism).
- Lotus and Shaktim share the emptiness/void concept.
- Her nakedness is space itself: A Sarvastivādi asankhata (asaṁskrṭa) is space (Ākāśa).
[Lotus Chapter 5:] ultimate Nirvana which is constantly still and extinct and which in the end returns to emptiness.
- Emptiness in that sense must be Ākāśa.
5.1.12. Atta-Suññatā
“voidness in formations” (saṅkhāra-suññatā) [...] and “voidness of self” (atta-suññatā) [...] variously classified in the Suññakathā of the Paṭisambhidāmagga. The “void mind-deliverance” (suññata-cetovimutti) is that connected with atta-suññatā (MN 43). [The Three Basic Facts of Existence: III — Egolessness (Anattā) Collected Essays, Buddhist Publication Society, Kandy, Sri Lanka, The Wheel Publication No. 202–204]
- atta-suññatā , f., emptiness as to soul;
- Atta is not svabhāva. The latter is shared among Indian religions that reject the anattavāda (Buddha-Sasanā).
- Mahayana replaced atta with svabhāva because Mahayana refused to follow anattavāda.
- all of the five Skandhas are equally empty of atta (me, mine, I).
[Dhammakiti (담마끼띠):] Unlike the theory of self-begetting mutation by Brahmanism which argues that many appear from one, the understanding of Buddhism may be the revelation of truth from many to one based on the theory of dependent origination [...] The word ‘emptiness’ is mentioned in many discourses of early Buddhism [Culasunnata-sutta, Mahasunnata-sutta, Majjhima Nikaya] [초기불교에 나타난 대승공관의 기초 -맛지마 니까야의 『소공경』 과 『대공경』을 중심으로-]The knowledge of Avalokiteśvara:
- all of the five Skandhas are equally empty of svabhāva (self-nature).
- If Avalokiteśvara realised anicca, dukkha and anatta, he would become a noble person.
Ariya-Puggala: the Four 'Noble Ones'
- the Stream-winner (Sotāpanna),
- the Once-Returner (Sakadāgāmi),
- the Non-Returner (Anāgāmī),
- the Holy One (Arahat).
Anatta Dhamma: Non-being of I-being/soul
- Anatta (not-atta) - (the five aggregates are) not me, not mine; see Cula Rahula Sutta.
- Me or mine occurs due to misperception.
- Empty of atta (the I-satta, I-being or soul)
- Satta: being, lifeform;
Insofar as it is empty of a self or of anything pertaining to a self: Thus it is said, Ānanda, that the world is empty.
- The Venerable Ānanda was then a sotapanna. He became an arahant on the eve of the first sangayana.
"Bhikkhus, [rūpa] is not-self.
- Rūpa: mahābhūta;
- Nāma: citta (viññāṇa) and cetasika (vedanā, saññā, saṅkhāra)
Atta-Suñña (Atta-Suññatā)
the Buddha, the Analyzer (Vibhajjavaadi), analyzed the so-called being, the sankhaara pu~nja, the heap of processes, into five ever-changing aggregates, and made it clear that there is nothing abiding, nothing eternally conserved, in this conflux of aggregates (khandhaa santati). [The Fact of Impermanence (Piyadassi Thera)]
- The Vibhajjavādi Buddha rejected everything that looks like indestructible buddha-svabhāva, Ālayavijñāna, etc.
- This book discusses "Atta-Suñña" in detail: The Path of Purification By Buddhaghosa (Page 529)
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2024.05.31 01:36 4990 Pillars of Longevity
Preventative Cardiology
Focuses on measures to prevent heart disease and improve cardiovascular health through lifestyle changes, medications, and monitoring.Metabolic Health and Body Composition
Addresses issues related to metabolism, weight management, and body composition to enhance overall health and reduce the risk of metabolic diseases like diabetes.
Hormone Replacement and Sexual Health
Involves the use of hormone therapy to balance hormonal levels, improve sexual health, and address conditions like menopause or low testosterone.Cancer Screening and Prevention
Emphasizes early detection and prevention of cancer through regular screenings, genetic testing, and lifestyle modifications to reduce cancer risk.Cognitive Enhancement and Dementia Prevention
Aims to improve cognitive function and delay the onset of dementia through brain-healthy habits, cognitive training, and neuroprotective interventions.Musculoskeletal Health
Focuses on maintaining and improving the health of bones, muscles, and joints to prevent and treat conditions like osteoporosis, arthritis, and other musculoskeletal disorders.Aesthetics
Involves treatments and procedures aimed at enhancing physical appearance, including skincare, anti-aging therapies, and cosmetic procedures.Emotional Wellness, Social Connectedness, and Ikigai
Promotes mental and emotional well-being, social relationships, and a sense of purpose (Ikigai) to improve quality of life and longevity.Microbiome and Gut Health
Studies the role of gut bacteria in overall health and uses dietary and lifestyle interventions to promote a healthy microbiome and digestive system.Geroprotective Agents
Explores substances and interventions that may protect against the effects of aging and extend lifespan, such as certain medications, supplements, and lifestyle practices.2024.05.30 19:19 biancamission URGENT: Darnia has a deadline of 5 pm TODAY 5/30 due to medical. She needs rescue & foster and pledges. She is at Orange County Animal Services in ORLANDO, FL. Please share her! Thank you so much!
 | 🆘🆘URGENT ** URGENT ** URGENT NEEDS PLACEMENT BY 5 PM TODAY!🆘🆘 AT ORANGE COUNTY ANIMAL SERVICES IN ORLANDO, FL submitted by biancamission to rescuedogs [link] [comments] Sharing a post from Urgent Dogs of Orlando Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/61554543816308/posts/pfbid02QHrgJSJ64uMq27paQ9idAraUyzKo8U4FtPfTDTBgcDKdXXpdyXdGV1PzUtp5NbvUl/?app=fbl 🆘🆘URGENT ** URGENT ** URGENT NEEDS PLACEMENT BY 5 PM TODAY!🆘🆘 We posted her recently, she had a medical deadline and was adopted. Now she's back and she needs a rescue commitment. Her shelter plea: DARNIA #A547229 - This dog is an unaltered female. This dog weighs approximately 7.5 lbs.,is 9Y and has tested negative for heartworm disease. This dog is being posted to rescue due to medical. Meet Darnia! She was adopted from us by a responsible owner, but he can't continue to afford the medical costs. Darnia has an enlarged heart and is presenting signs of mild Upper respiratory infection, with clear discharge. But due to her heart condition, this is causing her to have difficulty breathing. She was placed in oxygen at the owner's veterinary clinic and she even has a I.V catheter in place -records available upon request- and right now is laying comfortably in the clinic's office but needs placement today without fail! 👉 If you are a rescue and can help this Darnia, please email the shelter at: Rescue.Coordinator@ocfl.net 👉 If you want to foster for a rescue, please also email the shelter and send a private message to Urgent Dogs of Orlando. List of rescue partners for Orange County Animal Services (Orlando, FL): http://www.ocnetpets.com/ProgramsServices/Rescues/RescuePartners. 📍📍 If you cannot foster Darnia, but you can PLEDGE to help her, please post a comment below with your pledge amount. No amount is too small. Please help save Darnia! Please share her 🙏❤️ |
2024.05.30 19:16 biancamission URGENT: Darnia has a deadline of 5 pm TODAY 5/30 due to medical. She needs rescue & foster and pledges. She is at Orange County Animal Services in ORLANDO, FL. Please share her! Thank you so much!
 | 🆘🆘URGENT ** URGENT ** URGENT NEEDS PLACEMENT BY 5 PM TODAY!🆘🆘 AT ORANGE COUNTY ANIMAL SERVICES IN ORLANDO, FL submitted by biancamission to petsforadoptioninFL [link] [comments] Sharing a post from Urgent Dogs of Orlando Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/61554543816308/posts/pfbid02QHrgJSJ64uMq27paQ9idAraUyzKo8U4FtPfTDTBgcDKdXXpdyXdGV1PzUtp5NbvUl/?app=fbl 🆘🆘URGENT ** URGENT ** URGENT NEEDS PLACEMENT BY 5 PM TODAY!🆘🆘 We posted her recently, she had a medical deadline and was adopted. Now she's back and she needs a rescue commitment. Her shelter plea: DARNIA #A547229 - This dog is an unaltered female. This dog weighs approximately 7.5 lbs.,is 9Y and has tested negative for heartworm disease. This dog is being posted to rescue due to medical. Meet Darnia! She was adopted from us by a responsible owner, but he can't continue to afford the medical costs. Darnia has an enlarged heart and is presenting signs of mild Upper respiratory infection, with clear discharge. But due to her heart condition, this is causing her to have difficulty breathing. She was placed in oxygen at the owner's veterinary clinic and she even has a I.V catheter in place -records available upon request- and right now is laying comfortably in the clinic's office but needs placement today without fail! 👉 If you are a rescue and can help this Darnia, please email the shelter at: Rescue.Coordinator@ocfl.net 👉 If you want to foster for a rescue, please also email the shelter and send a private message to Urgent Dogs of Orlando. List of rescue partners for Orange County Animal Services (Orlando, FL): http://www.ocnetpets.com/ProgramsServices/Rescues/RescuePartners. 📍📍 If you cannot foster Darnia, but you can PLEDGE to help her, please post a comment below with your pledge amount. No amount is too small. Please help save Darnia! Please share her 🙏❤️ |
2024.05.30 18:01 Ben_Elohim_2020 Empty Eyes: Children of the Grave [One-Shot]
Credit to Blue for the wonderful cover art
Thank you to:
u/SpacePaladin15, for creating the Nature of Predators universe.
u/blankxlate, author of Sweet Vengeance, for proofreading.
EmClear, aspiring author, for proofreading
You, the reader, for your support.
Please consider reading the works of my proofreaders as they’re all authors of excellent stories and be sure to check the links below for more of my work and beautiful art from members of the community.
The following story takes place shortly after the events of Empty Eyes part 2 but, seeing as Trilvri’s story is very episodic in nature, you should be able to largely understand the story without prior context (though I would definitely recommend you give the full story a chance!)
I don’t typically believe in giving content warnings, but I have been advised to give one here. This one is a little fucked up and involves some very bad things being done both by and to minors. Consider yourself warned.
[Empty Eyes] [Nature of Family Master List]
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Empty Eyes: Children of the Grave
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Memory transcription subject: E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Date [standardised human time]: E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Transcription data heavily fragmented…Attempting post-mortem reconstruction…
E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Evidence of neural pathway tampering detected…Suspicion of attempted obstruction of justice…Decoding memory encryption…
Decoding…
Decoding…
Partial reconstruction complete…Full reconstruction ongoing…
Memory transcription subject: Trilvri, VSC Penitent Fleet Cadet (age 8 approx.)
Approximate Date [standardised human time]: 2123
The booted foot connects solidly with my skull once more, eliciting a banal sense of drudgery and tedium as I blink away the dots in my vision to stare into the face of Razvik. He’s a Venlil, like me, white of wool and sour of complexion. He too bears the hallmark scars of his time interred in a predator disease facility: friction burns over the wrists and ankles where shackles rubbed the skin raw, an arc pattern spread across the throat and chest from his shock collar, and lopsided facial features born of a collision with a truncheon where the bones failed to set properly. He probably thinks the slightly slack-jawed appearance makes him look tough. His two henchmen certainly seem to think so standing beside him, too weak and cowardly to make it on their own, choosing instead to trust their fates to Razvik.
It’s a sensible choice… almost. Razvik is big, one of the oldest among our group, and fully endowed by the blessings of puberty. Something most of the rest of us probably won’t live long enough to experience for ourselves. Until the paw when we inevitably meet our fate, digested inside of an Arxur’s stomach or scattered to vapours of dust amid the wreckage of our ships, however, we need to contend with the self proclaimed ‘apex predator’s’ rule. We stand little chance fighting back against a teenager, almost a man in full, and he knows it. What those who follow him seem to forget though, is that Razvik has no loyalty. No empathy to speak of. He’s just as broken as the rest of us, and he’ll turn on those who follow him just as quickly as anyone else. They’re just being saved for last.
“What’s the matter, Dead-Meat?” He sneers at me, baring his teeth in a snarl as he looks down on my form crumpled up into a ball on the floor. “Still not gonna fight back?”
Silent contempt is my armour as I lay on the floor, glaring up into his face with unblinking, unbroken eyes. I survived the facilities. I will survive this. All I have to do is what I’ve always done and I’ll make it through. Endure. Compartmentalise the external and float in a sea of the subconscious mind. Nothing he can do to my body could ever compare to the tortures I’ve borne already. Nerves, long-ago fried beyond all practical use, barely even register pain anymore, simply a dull sense of pressure that lets me know when something is killing me; and I doubt he can do more damage to my brain with just his foot than three cycles of constant electroshock and chemical experimentation already have.
“You know what, Dead-Meat?” Razvik stops to ponder me for a moment, stalking up and down the floor in front of me. “It’s almost not even worth the trouble of brahking with you anymore. You don’t have any kind of reaction no matter what we do. You’re like a vacant brahking doll. Mute more often than not. Useless. I’m half tempted to try shoving my cock up your ass to see if I can get some kind of pleasure out of you that way, but I get the feeling even that wouldn’t get through to you. Besides, it’s no fun if they don’t scream a little when I do it.”
The lackey to his left, a young Venlil boy with brown wool and a face that could almost be considered cute if not for a long scar running through his left eye to his lip, looks aside. An uncomfortable look of shame and humiliation rests upon his face as his tail curls submissively around his leg.
“You know why I keep doing it though?” Razvik asks me. “It’s because of that brahking look in your eyes. The way you look at me like I’m dirt, like you think you’re better than me. I hate it. Well let me tell you something, you’re not better than me. The Commander said it himself, who you were before you got here isn’t worth speh. Your mommy and daddy aren't gonna come in here and save you no matter how much of a big-shot they are, so get used to it.”
Never once have I tried using my Mother or Fathers names to help me. It’s been three cycles since I last saw either of them, since I’d last heard anything about them.
“I have no son… Do what you want with him…”
His final words echo in memory, a painful reminder of my failure in his eyes. For a while I had held out hope that they would change their minds, that they would come back for me, save me… In truth, I am as dead to them as they are now to me. The truth doesn’t matter to Razvik though. A sharp kick in the ribs returns my focus to the present moment as he continues to lecture, taking pleasure in extolling his own might and power over those weaker than himself.
“Pay attention when I’m talking, Dead-Meat.” He says. “All that matters in here is survival of the fittest, rule by force, and let me tell you, I’m the apex predator in here. I’m the alpha, the number one. So you’d best shape up and learn that, quick. The next time I tell you something you’d better do it pronto, without any backtalk or predatory looks. Next time you even think of giving me a reason I might just pluck those offensive little eyes of yours right out of your head for good.”
A flick of the tail sends his two goons over to me, kicking and stomping, aiming for vital points and exposed areas of soft flesh. I curl myself into a dense little ball, weathering the storm of blows with stoic indifference as I ward off the worst of the assault with arms and legs. Razvik saunters over to the cafeteria table to retrieve my tray, the inciting incident for this paws events, and upturns it, spilling the contents all over me and onto the floor.
“Make sure to get me something better for the next meal.” He says as he turns to walk away. “I need plenty of calories if I’m gonna keep my strength up.”
The other cadets watch from the sidelines as I pick myself up off the floor and salvage what food I can. It’s undeniable that this display would cost me in the future, a weak link never goes un-exploited, but there’s nothing to be done about it. I don’t have the power to change my fate. All I can do is endure.
A pair of compliance officers enter the mess hall and everyone immediately lines themselves up at attention, not wanting to garner attention or provoke our wardens ire. I don’t even have a chance. Covered in fruit juices and slops of gruel as I am, they take notice of me immediately.
My teeth clamp shut with force and I topple to the ground with searing pain racing up my leg as the first officer to reach me jabs into my thigh with an electrified baton.
“Filthy brahking predator,” he says, pressing his weapon into the small of my back to send out another jolt for added emphasis, “you’re so ungrateful you won’t even eat the food we’ve so generously provided for you. It seems you still need another lesson about penance for your actions.”
“Everyone else, into the showers!” The second officer waves his baton around the room, issuing his command. “Wash away whatever taint you can and get to your bunks for some shut-eye. Next paw won’t be any easier than this one, so get to it!”
He points his baton down at me. “You! I want this floor so clean that a proper sapient could eat off of it! Then get your ass down to the showers! The longer you take the less time you get for rest claw!”
The two officers stand around and watch me as I clean, scrubbing the polished floors until I could see my own reflection staring back at me, a vacuous little black Venlil with angry, blood-orange eyes simmering with distant hatred and rebellious malcontent. Eventually, and after the officers had their own fun, prolonging my punishment whilst chiding and ‘encouraging’ me with the occasional zap to hurry up, I finished.
Making my way down the sterile white hallway of the orbital station I arrive at the showers to find them deserted. No surprise there. Everyone else is presumably already asleep at this point, taking advantage of the rare privilege that is ‘sleep’ to bask in the wonders of nonexistence, of not being here. I hope to join them soon enough.
Cold water runs down my body, washing away the now caked-on bits of foodstuff down the drain, sending shivers down my spine as I shudder from the sudden drop in temperature. Rumour has it that the compliance officers get warm showers. Personally, I’m not sure if I believe it, though it would seem fitting if for no other reason than it would make us all the more miserable for knowing it.
As I make my way through the drying tunnel I can hear something in the distance, a quiet sobbing. I creep around the corner, silent and unseen as I balance on the soft pads of my feet. Looking out I can see Razvin and his two thugs up to their typical behaviour, cornering a small Gojid boy. I recognize him from my first day in the Corps, a quiet and sensitive lad prone to fits of tears and depression. I think his name was… Ganjeem. It’s a wonder how he managed to get into this program at all with how sensitive he is, but then again the Penitents will take just about anyone with a positive diagnosis, even if the particular subset of predator disease doesn’t showcase itself with the more violent tendencies of someone like Razvik
“That’s right, cry you little piece of speh.” Razvik grabs Ganjeem by the jaw, digging blue-stained claws into his face and pressing him up against the wall. “I’m gonna get my enjoyment out of you one way or another…”
I don’t know Ganjeem very well. I can’t even say I’ve ever really had a conversation with him. He’s as much a stranger to me as anyone else on this station, just another face in the crowd. Still, looking at him there in the corner, knowing what’s about to happen… Something stirs in my heart, a feeling I haven’t known in cycles, and it compels me to act.
“Leave him alone.” I state the order clearly, without excessive threats and bluster. I’m making a poor decision, picking a fight I know I can’t win, but I do it anyway. I feel like I don’t really have a choice.
“Oh, look who’s back for more?” Razvik turns to face me, his erect manhood displayed proudly. “Dead-Meat didn’t learn his lesson earlier. I’ll tell you what though,” he licks his misaligned lips in disgusting fashion, “I like this new energy. I might actually be able to have some fun with you this time. It seems I must have struck a nerve. Who is this little brat to you? I’m not stealing your little boy-toy from you, am I?”
“I don’t know him at all.” I answer coldly. “I’ve never even spoken to him before. Now let him go.”
“Huh, is that so?” Razvik seems genuinely surprised, perplexed by the idea that I might try to help someone I don’t know, the concept utterly foreign to him. “Doesn’t matter I suppose.” He flicks his tail with a snap and flexes his claws as he looks me in the eye. “Boys, bring him over here so I can have my fun with him. I got a certain promise from earlier that I need to uphold.”
E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Memory transcription interrupted…Beginning playback…
Memory transcription subject: Trilvri, Venlil Child (age 5 approx.)
Approximate Date [standardised human time]: 2120
“Mother, please!” I decry, the blazing desert sun overhead, bearing down on me with an intensity almost as merciless as hers. “We’ve been at this all paw! I just don’t get it! I’m exhausted and everything hurts! Please! I just want a break…”
My every limb aches, spasming with an acidic burn of exertion that renders me almost unable to stand or close my paw. Try as I might, I can't stop my paws from shaking. My every breath is laboured, bought at the expense of pain in my ribs and a sour taste in my lungs. A patchwork of swollen bruises are beginning to form under my wool and across my whole body where I’ve been struck. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this. I don’t know how I’ve even made it this far.
“No breaks!” Mother is strict in her instruction, draconian even, demanding perfection in every measure. “Maybe some people can afford to postpone their training until they’re old enough to officially join the Guild, but not you. Not my Son. We will continue working you through the forms until you can do it flawlessly!”
“But, Mother…” I plead, desperate for release, “It… It hurts…”
“Life is pain, Trilvri,” Mother answers dismissively, “and the sooner you learn that the better. Maybe you don’t appreciate it now, but this, all of this, is for your own good. You have a legacy to live up to and your Father and I will accept nothing less. You have the makings of greatness in you, it’s in your blood, but potential means nothing if you don’t use it. That requires effort. That requires pain. You’ll thank me for this someday. Now, do it again!”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I say reluctantly, still eager to please, still desperate to be loved.
Memory transcription restored…Resuming playback…
I catch the first assailant's paw by the wrist mid-swing, turning it over and throwing him over my hip with a savage snap, slamming him down hard onto the slick tile floor. Kneeling down to drop my full body weight on the joints, I compress the shoulder and elbow, breaking it in two more places, before delivering a swift punch to the throat. He barely even has time to scream as his airway starts to swell and his attention becomes singularly fixated on continuing to breathe. He’d live… probably.
It’s a surprise that I still know how to do this. It’s been at least three cycles since I’d first learned the basics and this was the first time I’d ever actually had to put any of it into practice against real opponents. Still, I suppose some things, once learned, are just impossible to forget.
The brown one with the almost-cute face is next. He hesitates for just a moment at the sight of me, completely acclimated to my typical docility and wholly unprepared for such swift and unexpected resistance. That hesitation is what does him in. With my back foot already chambered beneath me in the crouched stance, I spring out with a back kick, pressing my front paws against the floor for balance. The kick takes him in the face, raking claws up his unblemished side in a ragged trio of cuts that tear out an eyeball. That one is certain to leave a scar, but maybe he should thank me? I’m sure that he’ll be receiving less attention from Razvik now that he’s no longer pretty.
He hollers and screams, clutching at his face and screeching as he fumbles around blindly with sightless eyes, falling over himself and crashing to the floor. From down the hall I can hear the other cadets start to rise from their slumber and make their way over to investigate the disturbance. Normal prey would run and hide at such a commotion, but for these predators the scent of blood in the water only seems to draw them nearer. It seems we’ll be putting on a show.
“You bastard!” Razvik rushes me, bearing down on me with his full might as the others begin to arrive.
Crossing my arms in front of me I’m just barely able to take the blow, thrown across the room by the force and colliding with a toilet. The ceramic shatters with a crash as my back makes contact with it, driving the air from my lungs. It takes me only a moment to recover myself, the dull throb of pain all along my spine letting me know that it’s not good, but it seems I’ve managed to avoid outright breaking my back at least. Still, a moment is all it takes for Razvik to catch up with me.
He towers over me, a colossal white pillar of sadistic wrath, and wraps his fingers tightly around my throat. His supple hands squeeze hard, making my neck pop and tingle as he strangles the life out of me.
“Yeah…” He says, enraptured in ecstasy, “This is much better. It turns out you can be a fun little toy afterall. I’m looking forward to all the wonderful experiences we’re going to share. Aren’t you, Dead-Meat?”
My foot flies up between his legs with a savage snap-kick and I can feel his testicles rupture on impact, an orange stain spreading quickly out his crotch. His eyes go wide with shock and his voice pitches upward into a shrill squeak. Now isn’t the time to stop and admire my handiwork though. Seizing on the opportunity I reach behind me and grab the first thing I can find, the heavy back-lid of the toilet. Swinging it around with all my might, I crash it into his left knee, snapping it with a sickening crunch at a ninety degree angle.
Razvik flounders on the floor, reeling from the pain of his crippled limb and his existence as a newly made eunuch. His eyes are the most viscous window of hate imaginable, giving a glimpse into his sickeningly warped, predatory soul. He reaches up a paw to claw at me with a growl, and I swat it back down with a thwack of the lid, snapping three of his fingers back facing the wrong direction in the process.
“I’ll kill you!” He screams at me, barely coherent. “You’ll pay for this! You’ll suffer! You’re Dead-Meat! You hear me! Dead!”
He attempts to reach for me again with his other paw, and again I smack it away with much the same result. A howl of impotent rage and pain reverberates throughout the room. I look around at the assembled faces of my fellow cadets, watching as they wait and evaluate me, seeing what it is I’ll do next. Judging, re-evaluating their own place on the social hierarchy, and trying to figure out if they have what it takes to be on top. All they have to do… is claim that title from me…
The words of my Father come unbidden to my mind.
“Predators are not like you and me, Son. They are savage and uncivilised, devoid of empathy or mercy. The only thing they understand is force, domination, naked violence in its purest sense. When dealing with such monsters you can never show weakness, you can never back down, and you must always present yourself as an unchallengeable, indomitable threat worthy of fear and respect… or else they’ll eat you alive.”
I meet the gaze of the audience, see their questioning faces, and tighten my grip on the lid. I will see their challenge, and I will meet it head on. Simply enduring is no longer enough to survive, not under these conditions. I need to act, to prove myself. I need to become untouchable, unreachable, unconquerable. I need to become someone that none of them will ever dare to cross ever again. I need… to make an example.
“No,” I say to Razvik, my tone as cold and sharp as steel, “you’re Dead-Meat.”
I slam the lid down onto his other knee, shattering it into a million pieces. He screams; obscenities, threats, curses. It doesn’t matter. I know what needs to be done. I straddle his body and work my way up his legs, crushing thigh bones, crushing his pelvis, his spine, and his ribs. Slowly and meticulously I crush every bone in his body, prolonging his suffering and caving in his entire chest cavity. Shards of bone crack and pop through the skin, puncturing organs and spilling blood across the floor, spiralling down through the drain. Razvik is a gibbering mess, his once proud boasts and threats devolved into a series of pleading cries, begging for someone, anyone, to save him. They don’t.
I could end this quickly, a quick blow to the head delivered at just the right angle would put him out of his misery at once. Part of me almost wants to do that. Razvik is a cruel and sadistic man, someone fully deserving of the label ‘predator’, but with every blow of the lid landing upon his body like a hammer strike I can feel a small piece of my own soul breaking away. I want to, but no. This is purposeful. This is a tactical cruelty, not simply cruelty for cruelties sake. Intended and executed to send a message that will be understood and remembered by everyone here for the rest of their short, miserable lives.
Don’t brahk with me. I’m not worth the risk.
Razvik goes silent now, words unable to be drawn from perforated lungs. He quivers and shakes, more an involuntary seizure than anything intentional, his body unable to sustain itself amid the massive and systemic trauma I’ve inflicted on it. With a final crash I slam the lid into the amorphous bag of pulped flesh and splintered bone that is his chest, shattering my improvised weapon on the tile floor beneath.
I rise to my feet, covered in blood that’s not my own and panting from the exertion. I look out, and the faces that meet mine turn away, cowed by the grisly display of dominance. None would be willing to risk an open confrontation with me. Not anymore.
“Ganjeem?” I ask, scanning the herd of onlookers for the figure of the scared little Gojid that had started it all, “Are you ok?”
He looks at me, more fear and terror on his face than even Razvik had instilled in him. He runs away the moment my eyes meet his, screaming. I may have saved him, but in his view I had become the thing all good prey fear most, a wild predator. A monster devoid of empathy or mercy. Just another chained beast aboard the Penitent Fleet, just one more weapon in the Commander's arsenal, no different than any other. I had succeeded in my goals, wildly and beyond all expectations. The ceaseless bullying, the endless torment would stop. I am untouchable, and I am completely, utterly, alone…
Memory transcription interrupted…Fragmentation increasing…Related transcription file located…Beginning playback…
Memory transcription subject: Brykin, VSC Penitent Fleet Commander
Date [standardised human time]: August 18th, 2123
“Commander, please,” one of the new administrative overseers sees fit to voice her uneducated and unwanted opinion as I watch the live camera feed, “this has gone too far. One of the children is dead, a second is dying, and the third may never be able to fly again! This is unconscionable! It’s sickening! We need to stop this! We never should have let it get this far! We knew that Cadet Razvik was a particularly unstable individual and that he was terrorising the other penitents, but we still didn’t do anything, and now look at what's happened!”
“Of course he was unstable,” I answer tactfully, “they all are. Don’t allow appearances to deceive you. Every one of these cadets has been selected on the basis of their predatory nature and their potential for killing. None of them should be considered anything even close to an actual child. They are simply predators disguised as such, and it is our responsibility to ensure we make the best use of them that we can.”
“We’re not going to get any use out of them if they all wind up killing each other!” The fledgling overseer refuses to see reason and drop the issue, but then again, I suppose not everyone can be so enlightened as myself.
“They are simply predators being predators.” I answer patiently, hoping to guide and nurture understanding in our new hire. “Culling their own packs of the weak is how they develop and grow. It’s an expected part of the process. Cadet Razvik may have been a promising candidate, but in the end he proved himself to be insufficient. In his death, at least, he serves to strengthen those that remain. In this program there’s never any guarantee that the cadets we’re given will be moulded into good soldiers, but with any luck we may still be able to salvage something useful out of this batch. There’s almost always at least one in the bunch…”
I look back to the screen, watching as Cadet Trilvri exits the room, the rest of his class parting ways to make room for his departure.
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A/N - Hello all! Well that was certainly a rather dark chapter wasn’t it? I do hope you’ve enjoyed this glimpse into Trilvri’s early days as a cadet in the Penitents and witnessing his very first kill. As a fun fact for you guys, this chapter was partly inspired by Ender Wiggins killing of Stilson in Ender's Game. The song for this chapter is, rather appropriately, Children of the Grave by Black Sabbath and try as Trilvri might to make a better world the Penitents remain Children of the Grave. As a second “Fun Fact” there is actually a second song I was considering for this chapter, First Blood by First Blood, which also seems rather fitting. In the end though I decided Children of the Grave just fit the overall story better.
If you like the story then please remember to upvote, comment, and use the “!Subscribeme” function to be alerted to all new posts. I post as often as I can but real life has a tendency of getting in the way and my job makes it almost impossible to keep to any kind of schedule. Your engagement and support go a long way towards helping to keep me on track and motivated, so thank you very much for reading and I hope you'll stay tuned for next chapter!
submitted by Ben_Elohim_2020 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Thank you to:
u/SpacePaladin15, for creating the Nature of Predators universe.
u/blankxlate, author of Sweet Vengeance, for proofreading.
EmClear, aspiring author, for proofreading
You, the reader, for your support.
Please consider reading the works of my proofreaders as they’re all authors of excellent stories and be sure to check the links below for more of my work and beautiful art from members of the community.
The following story takes place shortly after the events of Empty Eyes part 2 but, seeing as Trilvri’s story is very episodic in nature, you should be able to largely understand the story without prior context (though I would definitely recommend you give the full story a chance!)
I don’t typically believe in giving content warnings, but I have been advised to give one here. This one is a little fucked up and involves some very bad things being done both by and to minors. Consider yourself warned.
[Empty Eyes] [Nature of Family Master List]
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Empty Eyes: Children of the Grave
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Memory transcription subject: E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Date [standardised human time]: E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Transcription data heavily fragmented…Attempting post-mortem reconstruction…
E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Evidence of neural pathway tampering detected…Suspicion of attempted obstruction of justice…Decoding memory encryption…
Decoding…
Decoding…
Partial reconstruction complete…Full reconstruction ongoing…
Memory transcription subject: Trilvri, VSC Penitent Fleet Cadet (age 8 approx.)
Approximate Date [standardised human time]: 2123
The booted foot connects solidly with my skull once more, eliciting a banal sense of drudgery and tedium as I blink away the dots in my vision to stare into the face of Razvik. He’s a Venlil, like me, white of wool and sour of complexion. He too bears the hallmark scars of his time interred in a predator disease facility: friction burns over the wrists and ankles where shackles rubbed the skin raw, an arc pattern spread across the throat and chest from his shock collar, and lopsided facial features born of a collision with a truncheon where the bones failed to set properly. He probably thinks the slightly slack-jawed appearance makes him look tough. His two henchmen certainly seem to think so standing beside him, too weak and cowardly to make it on their own, choosing instead to trust their fates to Razvik.
It’s a sensible choice… almost. Razvik is big, one of the oldest among our group, and fully endowed by the blessings of puberty. Something most of the rest of us probably won’t live long enough to experience for ourselves. Until the paw when we inevitably meet our fate, digested inside of an Arxur’s stomach or scattered to vapours of dust amid the wreckage of our ships, however, we need to contend with the self proclaimed ‘apex predator’s’ rule. We stand little chance fighting back against a teenager, almost a man in full, and he knows it. What those who follow him seem to forget though, is that Razvik has no loyalty. No empathy to speak of. He’s just as broken as the rest of us, and he’ll turn on those who follow him just as quickly as anyone else. They’re just being saved for last.
“What’s the matter, Dead-Meat?” He sneers at me, baring his teeth in a snarl as he looks down on my form crumpled up into a ball on the floor. “Still not gonna fight back?”
Silent contempt is my armour as I lay on the floor, glaring up into his face with unblinking, unbroken eyes. I survived the facilities. I will survive this. All I have to do is what I’ve always done and I’ll make it through. Endure. Compartmentalise the external and float in a sea of the subconscious mind. Nothing he can do to my body could ever compare to the tortures I’ve borne already. Nerves, long-ago fried beyond all practical use, barely even register pain anymore, simply a dull sense of pressure that lets me know when something is killing me; and I doubt he can do more damage to my brain with just his foot than three cycles of constant electroshock and chemical experimentation already have.
“You know what, Dead-Meat?” Razvik stops to ponder me for a moment, stalking up and down the floor in front of me. “It’s almost not even worth the trouble of brahking with you anymore. You don’t have any kind of reaction no matter what we do. You’re like a vacant brahking doll. Mute more often than not. Useless. I’m half tempted to try shoving my cock up your ass to see if I can get some kind of pleasure out of you that way, but I get the feeling even that wouldn’t get through to you. Besides, it’s no fun if they don’t scream a little when I do it.”
The lackey to his left, a young Venlil boy with brown wool and a face that could almost be considered cute if not for a long scar running through his left eye to his lip, looks aside. An uncomfortable look of shame and humiliation rests upon his face as his tail curls submissively around his leg.
“You know why I keep doing it though?” Razvik asks me. “It’s because of that brahking look in your eyes. The way you look at me like I’m dirt, like you think you’re better than me. I hate it. Well let me tell you something, you’re not better than me. The Commander said it himself, who you were before you got here isn’t worth speh. Your mommy and daddy aren't gonna come in here and save you no matter how much of a big-shot they are, so get used to it.”
Never once have I tried using my Mother or Fathers names to help me. It’s been three cycles since I last saw either of them, since I’d last heard anything about them.
“I have no son… Do what you want with him…”
His final words echo in memory, a painful reminder of my failure in his eyes. For a while I had held out hope that they would change their minds, that they would come back for me, save me… In truth, I am as dead to them as they are now to me. The truth doesn’t matter to Razvik though. A sharp kick in the ribs returns my focus to the present moment as he continues to lecture, taking pleasure in extolling his own might and power over those weaker than himself.
“Pay attention when I’m talking, Dead-Meat.” He says. “All that matters in here is survival of the fittest, rule by force, and let me tell you, I’m the apex predator in here. I’m the alpha, the number one. So you’d best shape up and learn that, quick. The next time I tell you something you’d better do it pronto, without any backtalk or predatory looks. Next time you even think of giving me a reason I might just pluck those offensive little eyes of yours right out of your head for good.”
A flick of the tail sends his two goons over to me, kicking and stomping, aiming for vital points and exposed areas of soft flesh. I curl myself into a dense little ball, weathering the storm of blows with stoic indifference as I ward off the worst of the assault with arms and legs. Razvik saunters over to the cafeteria table to retrieve my tray, the inciting incident for this paws events, and upturns it, spilling the contents all over me and onto the floor.
“Make sure to get me something better for the next meal.” He says as he turns to walk away. “I need plenty of calories if I’m gonna keep my strength up.”
The other cadets watch from the sidelines as I pick myself up off the floor and salvage what food I can. It’s undeniable that this display would cost me in the future, a weak link never goes un-exploited, but there’s nothing to be done about it. I don’t have the power to change my fate. All I can do is endure.
A pair of compliance officers enter the mess hall and everyone immediately lines themselves up at attention, not wanting to garner attention or provoke our wardens ire. I don’t even have a chance. Covered in fruit juices and slops of gruel as I am, they take notice of me immediately.
My teeth clamp shut with force and I topple to the ground with searing pain racing up my leg as the first officer to reach me jabs into my thigh with an electrified baton.
“Filthy brahking predator,” he says, pressing his weapon into the small of my back to send out another jolt for added emphasis, “you’re so ungrateful you won’t even eat the food we’ve so generously provided for you. It seems you still need another lesson about penance for your actions.”
“Everyone else, into the showers!” The second officer waves his baton around the room, issuing his command. “Wash away whatever taint you can and get to your bunks for some shut-eye. Next paw won’t be any easier than this one, so get to it!”
He points his baton down at me. “You! I want this floor so clean that a proper sapient could eat off of it! Then get your ass down to the showers! The longer you take the less time you get for rest claw!”
The two officers stand around and watch me as I clean, scrubbing the polished floors until I could see my own reflection staring back at me, a vacuous little black Venlil with angry, blood-orange eyes simmering with distant hatred and rebellious malcontent. Eventually, and after the officers had their own fun, prolonging my punishment whilst chiding and ‘encouraging’ me with the occasional zap to hurry up, I finished.
Making my way down the sterile white hallway of the orbital station I arrive at the showers to find them deserted. No surprise there. Everyone else is presumably already asleep at this point, taking advantage of the rare privilege that is ‘sleep’ to bask in the wonders of nonexistence, of not being here. I hope to join them soon enough.
Cold water runs down my body, washing away the now caked-on bits of foodstuff down the drain, sending shivers down my spine as I shudder from the sudden drop in temperature. Rumour has it that the compliance officers get warm showers. Personally, I’m not sure if I believe it, though it would seem fitting if for no other reason than it would make us all the more miserable for knowing it.
As I make my way through the drying tunnel I can hear something in the distance, a quiet sobbing. I creep around the corner, silent and unseen as I balance on the soft pads of my feet. Looking out I can see Razvin and his two thugs up to their typical behaviour, cornering a small Gojid boy. I recognize him from my first day in the Corps, a quiet and sensitive lad prone to fits of tears and depression. I think his name was… Ganjeem. It’s a wonder how he managed to get into this program at all with how sensitive he is, but then again the Penitents will take just about anyone with a positive diagnosis, even if the particular subset of predator disease doesn’t showcase itself with the more violent tendencies of someone like Razvik
“That’s right, cry you little piece of speh.” Razvik grabs Ganjeem by the jaw, digging blue-stained claws into his face and pressing him up against the wall. “I’m gonna get my enjoyment out of you one way or another…”
I don’t know Ganjeem very well. I can’t even say I’ve ever really had a conversation with him. He’s as much a stranger to me as anyone else on this station, just another face in the crowd. Still, looking at him there in the corner, knowing what’s about to happen… Something stirs in my heart, a feeling I haven’t known in cycles, and it compels me to act.
“Leave him alone.” I state the order clearly, without excessive threats and bluster. I’m making a poor decision, picking a fight I know I can’t win, but I do it anyway. I feel like I don’t really have a choice.
“Oh, look who’s back for more?” Razvik turns to face me, his erect manhood displayed proudly. “Dead-Meat didn’t learn his lesson earlier. I’ll tell you what though,” he licks his misaligned lips in disgusting fashion, “I like this new energy. I might actually be able to have some fun with you this time. It seems I must have struck a nerve. Who is this little brat to you? I’m not stealing your little boy-toy from you, am I?”
“I don’t know him at all.” I answer coldly. “I’ve never even spoken to him before. Now let him go.”
“Huh, is that so?” Razvik seems genuinely surprised, perplexed by the idea that I might try to help someone I don’t know, the concept utterly foreign to him. “Doesn’t matter I suppose.” He flicks his tail with a snap and flexes his claws as he looks me in the eye. “Boys, bring him over here so I can have my fun with him. I got a certain promise from earlier that I need to uphold.”
E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Memory transcription interrupted…Beginning playback…
Memory transcription subject: Trilvri, Venlil Child (age 5 approx.)
Approximate Date [standardised human time]: 2120
“Mother, please!” I decry, the blazing desert sun overhead, bearing down on me with an intensity almost as merciless as hers. “We’ve been at this all paw! I just don’t get it! I’m exhausted and everything hurts! Please! I just want a break…”
My every limb aches, spasming with an acidic burn of exertion that renders me almost unable to stand or close my paw. Try as I might, I can't stop my paws from shaking. My every breath is laboured, bought at the expense of pain in my ribs and a sour taste in my lungs. A patchwork of swollen bruises are beginning to form under my wool and across my whole body where I’ve been struck. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this. I don’t know how I’ve even made it this far.
“No breaks!” Mother is strict in her instruction, draconian even, demanding perfection in every measure. “Maybe some people can afford to postpone their training until they’re old enough to officially join the Guild, but not you. Not my Son. We will continue working you through the forms until you can do it flawlessly!”
“But, Mother…” I plead, desperate for release, “It… It hurts…”
“Life is pain, Trilvri,” Mother answers dismissively, “and the sooner you learn that the better. Maybe you don’t appreciate it now, but this, all of this, is for your own good. You have a legacy to live up to and your Father and I will accept nothing less. You have the makings of greatness in you, it’s in your blood, but potential means nothing if you don’t use it. That requires effort. That requires pain. You’ll thank me for this someday. Now, do it again!”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I say reluctantly, still eager to please, still desperate to be loved.
Memory transcription restored…Resuming playback…
I catch the first assailant's paw by the wrist mid-swing, turning it over and throwing him over my hip with a savage snap, slamming him down hard onto the slick tile floor. Kneeling down to drop my full body weight on the joints, I compress the shoulder and elbow, breaking it in two more places, before delivering a swift punch to the throat. He barely even has time to scream as his airway starts to swell and his attention becomes singularly fixated on continuing to breathe. He’d live… probably.
It’s a surprise that I still know how to do this. It’s been at least three cycles since I’d first learned the basics and this was the first time I’d ever actually had to put any of it into practice against real opponents. Still, I suppose some things, once learned, are just impossible to forget.
The brown one with the almost-cute face is next. He hesitates for just a moment at the sight of me, completely acclimated to my typical docility and wholly unprepared for such swift and unexpected resistance. That hesitation is what does him in. With my back foot already chambered beneath me in the crouched stance, I spring out with a back kick, pressing my front paws against the floor for balance. The kick takes him in the face, raking claws up his unblemished side in a ragged trio of cuts that tear out an eyeball. That one is certain to leave a scar, but maybe he should thank me? I’m sure that he’ll be receiving less attention from Razvik now that he’s no longer pretty.
He hollers and screams, clutching at his face and screeching as he fumbles around blindly with sightless eyes, falling over himself and crashing to the floor. From down the hall I can hear the other cadets start to rise from their slumber and make their way over to investigate the disturbance. Normal prey would run and hide at such a commotion, but for these predators the scent of blood in the water only seems to draw them nearer. It seems we’ll be putting on a show.
“You bastard!” Razvik rushes me, bearing down on me with his full might as the others begin to arrive.
Crossing my arms in front of me I’m just barely able to take the blow, thrown across the room by the force and colliding with a toilet. The ceramic shatters with a crash as my back makes contact with it, driving the air from my lungs. It takes me only a moment to recover myself, the dull throb of pain all along my spine letting me know that it’s not good, but it seems I’ve managed to avoid outright breaking my back at least. Still, a moment is all it takes for Razvik to catch up with me.
He towers over me, a colossal white pillar of sadistic wrath, and wraps his fingers tightly around my throat. His supple hands squeeze hard, making my neck pop and tingle as he strangles the life out of me.
“Yeah…” He says, enraptured in ecstasy, “This is much better. It turns out you can be a fun little toy afterall. I’m looking forward to all the wonderful experiences we’re going to share. Aren’t you, Dead-Meat?”
My foot flies up between his legs with a savage snap-kick and I can feel his testicles rupture on impact, an orange stain spreading quickly out his crotch. His eyes go wide with shock and his voice pitches upward into a shrill squeak. Now isn’t the time to stop and admire my handiwork though. Seizing on the opportunity I reach behind me and grab the first thing I can find, the heavy back-lid of the toilet. Swinging it around with all my might, I crash it into his left knee, snapping it with a sickening crunch at a ninety degree angle.
Razvik flounders on the floor, reeling from the pain of his crippled limb and his existence as a newly made eunuch. His eyes are the most viscous window of hate imaginable, giving a glimpse into his sickeningly warped, predatory soul. He reaches up a paw to claw at me with a growl, and I swat it back down with a thwack of the lid, snapping three of his fingers back facing the wrong direction in the process.
“I’ll kill you!” He screams at me, barely coherent. “You’ll pay for this! You’ll suffer! You’re Dead-Meat! You hear me! Dead!”
He attempts to reach for me again with his other paw, and again I smack it away with much the same result. A howl of impotent rage and pain reverberates throughout the room. I look around at the assembled faces of my fellow cadets, watching as they wait and evaluate me, seeing what it is I’ll do next. Judging, re-evaluating their own place on the social hierarchy, and trying to figure out if they have what it takes to be on top. All they have to do… is claim that title from me…
The words of my Father come unbidden to my mind.
“Predators are not like you and me, Son. They are savage and uncivilised, devoid of empathy or mercy. The only thing they understand is force, domination, naked violence in its purest sense. When dealing with such monsters you can never show weakness, you can never back down, and you must always present yourself as an unchallengeable, indomitable threat worthy of fear and respect… or else they’ll eat you alive.”
I meet the gaze of the audience, see their questioning faces, and tighten my grip on the lid. I will see their challenge, and I will meet it head on. Simply enduring is no longer enough to survive, not under these conditions. I need to act, to prove myself. I need to become untouchable, unreachable, unconquerable. I need to become someone that none of them will ever dare to cross ever again. I need… to make an example.
“No,” I say to Razvik, my tone as cold and sharp as steel, “you’re Dead-Meat.”
I slam the lid down onto his other knee, shattering it into a million pieces. He screams; obscenities, threats, curses. It doesn’t matter. I know what needs to be done. I straddle his body and work my way up his legs, crushing thigh bones, crushing his pelvis, his spine, and his ribs. Slowly and meticulously I crush every bone in his body, prolonging his suffering and caving in his entire chest cavity. Shards of bone crack and pop through the skin, puncturing organs and spilling blood across the floor, spiralling down through the drain. Razvik is a gibbering mess, his once proud boasts and threats devolved into a series of pleading cries, begging for someone, anyone, to save him. They don’t.
I could end this quickly, a quick blow to the head delivered at just the right angle would put him out of his misery at once. Part of me almost wants to do that. Razvik is a cruel and sadistic man, someone fully deserving of the label ‘predator’, but with every blow of the lid landing upon his body like a hammer strike I can feel a small piece of my own soul breaking away. I want to, but no. This is purposeful. This is a tactical cruelty, not simply cruelty for cruelties sake. Intended and executed to send a message that will be understood and remembered by everyone here for the rest of their short, miserable lives.
Don’t brahk with me. I’m not worth the risk.
Razvik goes silent now, words unable to be drawn from perforated lungs. He quivers and shakes, more an involuntary seizure than anything intentional, his body unable to sustain itself amid the massive and systemic trauma I’ve inflicted on it. With a final crash I slam the lid into the amorphous bag of pulped flesh and splintered bone that is his chest, shattering my improvised weapon on the tile floor beneath.
I rise to my feet, covered in blood that’s not my own and panting from the exertion. I look out, and the faces that meet mine turn away, cowed by the grisly display of dominance. None would be willing to risk an open confrontation with me. Not anymore.
“Ganjeem?” I ask, scanning the herd of onlookers for the figure of the scared little Gojid that had started it all, “Are you ok?”
He looks at me, more fear and terror on his face than even Razvik had instilled in him. He runs away the moment my eyes meet his, screaming. I may have saved him, but in his view I had become the thing all good prey fear most, a wild predator. A monster devoid of empathy or mercy. Just another chained beast aboard the Penitent Fleet, just one more weapon in the Commander's arsenal, no different than any other. I had succeeded in my goals, wildly and beyond all expectations. The ceaseless bullying, the endless torment would stop. I am untouchable, and I am completely, utterly, alone…
Memory transcription interrupted…Fragmentation increasing…Related transcription file located…Beginning playback…
Memory transcription subject: Brykin, VSC Penitent Fleet Commander
Date [standardised human time]: August 18th, 2123
“Commander, please,” one of the new administrative overseers sees fit to voice her uneducated and unwanted opinion as I watch the live camera feed, “this has gone too far. One of the children is dead, a second is dying, and the third may never be able to fly again! This is unconscionable! It’s sickening! We need to stop this! We never should have let it get this far! We knew that Cadet Razvik was a particularly unstable individual and that he was terrorising the other penitents, but we still didn’t do anything, and now look at what's happened!”
“Of course he was unstable,” I answer tactfully, “they all are. Don’t allow appearances to deceive you. Every one of these cadets has been selected on the basis of their predatory nature and their potential for killing. None of them should be considered anything even close to an actual child. They are simply predators disguised as such, and it is our responsibility to ensure we make the best use of them that we can.”
“We’re not going to get any use out of them if they all wind up killing each other!” The fledgling overseer refuses to see reason and drop the issue, but then again, I suppose not everyone can be so enlightened as myself.
“They are simply predators being predators.” I answer patiently, hoping to guide and nurture understanding in our new hire. “Culling their own packs of the weak is how they develop and grow. It’s an expected part of the process. Cadet Razvik may have been a promising candidate, but in the end he proved himself to be insufficient. In his death, at least, he serves to strengthen those that remain. In this program there’s never any guarantee that the cadets we’re given will be moulded into good soldiers, but with any luck we may still be able to salvage something useful out of this batch. There’s almost always at least one in the bunch…”
I look back to the screen, watching as Cadet Trilvri exits the room, the rest of his class parting ways to make room for his departure.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N - Hello all! Well that was certainly a rather dark chapter wasn’t it? I do hope you’ve enjoyed this glimpse into Trilvri’s early days as a cadet in the Penitents and witnessing his very first kill. As a fun fact for you guys, this chapter was partly inspired by Ender Wiggins killing of Stilson in Ender's Game. The song for this chapter is, rather appropriately, Children of the Grave by Black Sabbath and try as Trilvri might to make a better world the Penitents remain Children of the Grave. As a second “Fun Fact” there is actually a second song I was considering for this chapter, First Blood by First Blood, which also seems rather fitting. In the end though I decided Children of the Grave just fit the overall story better.
If you like the story then please remember to upvote, comment, and use the “!Subscribeme” function to be alerted to all new posts. I post as often as I can but real life has a tendency of getting in the way and my job makes it almost impossible to keep to any kind of schedule. Your engagement and support go a long way towards helping to keep me on track and motivated, so thank you very much for reading and I hope you'll stay tuned for next chapter!
2024.05.30 10:48 altspiretransform Exploring Alternative Medicine: A Journey through BAMS, BUMS, and BHMS
In a world where conventional medicine often takes center stage, there's a growing interest in alternative approaches to health and wellness. One such avenue is the realm of AYUSH - Ayurveda, Yoga & Naturopathy, Unani, Siddha, and Homeopathy. Among these, Bachelor of Ayurvedic Medicine and Surgery (BAMS), Bachelor of Unani Medicine and Surgery (BUMS), and Bachelor of Homeopathic Medicine and Surgery (BHMS) stand out as prominent paths to holistic healing.
Embark on your exploration of alternative medicine today, and discover the profound healing potential that lies within the realms of BAMS, BUMS, and BHMS.
Also, read about - Top career counseling for AYUSH college aspirants (BAMS, BUMS, and BHMS).
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Embracing Holistic Healing
At the heart of alternative medicine lies the principle of treating the individual as a whole, addressing not just the symptoms but also the underlying causes of illness. BAMS, BUMS, and BHMS programs offer students a deep dive into ancient healing traditions, blending centuries-old wisdom with modern scientific insights.Understanding BAMS
BAMS, or Bachelor of Ayurvedic Medicine and Surgery, delves into the principles and practices of Ayurveda, one of the world's oldest holistic healing systems. Students learn about the three doshas (Vata, Pitta, and Kapha), herbal remedies, dietary guidelines, yoga, meditation, and more. With a focus on balance and harmony, Ayurveda aims to restore health and vitality by aligning the body, mind, and spirit.Exploring BUMS
BUMS, or Bachelor of Unani Medicine and Surgery, is rooted in the ancient Greek principles of medicine, emphasizing the balance of bodily humors (blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile). Unani medicine incorporates herbal remedies, dietary modifications, cupping therapy, and lifestyle interventions to promote health and treat diseases. It embraces the "Tibb-e-Nabawi," or prophetic medicine, which advocates for natural healing methods.Unveiling BHMS
BHMS, or Bachelor of Homeopathic Medicine and Surgery, revolves around the principles of homeopathy, a system of medicine founded by German physician Samuel Hahnemann in the late 18th century. Homeopathy operates on the principle of "like cures like," where highly diluted substances that mimic the symptoms of a disease are used to stimulate the body's self-healing mechanisms. BHMS students study materia medica, repertory, organon of medicine, and case-taking techniques to diagnose and treat patients.The Journey Begins
Embarking on a journey through BAMS, BUMS, or BHMS is more than just acquiring academic knowledge; it's a profound exploration of ancient wisdom, cultural heritage, and the art of healing. Students are immersed in diverse learning experiences, including classroom lectures, clinical rotations, hands-on training, and research opportunities. They gain insights into the intricate connections between health's physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects, paving the way for a holistic approach to healing.Conclusion:
As we navigate the complexities of modern healthcare, the allure of alternative medicine continues to grow. BAMS, BUMS, and BHMS programs offer a unique blend of tradition and innovation, empowering students to become compassionate healers, advocates for wellness, and agents of change in their communities. Whether you're drawn to the ancient wisdom of Ayurveda, the holistic principles of Unani medicine, or the gentle healing touch of homeopathy, the journey through BAMS, BUMS, and BHMS promises to be transformative, enlightening, and deeply rewarding.Embark on your exploration of alternative medicine today, and discover the profound healing potential that lies within the realms of BAMS, BUMS, and BHMS.
Also, read about - Top career counseling for AYUSH college aspirants (BAMS, BUMS, and BHMS).
2024.05.30 02:04 healthmedicinet health daily news May 29 2024
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5-29-2024
NOT A GYM RAT? HERE’S HOW TO GET STARTED ON AN OUTDOOR EXERCISE ROUTINE
Between the sweat smell, fluorescent lights and omnipresent television screens, April Herring has never connected with going to the gym. Instead, she runs, bikes, hikes, plays tennis, pickleball and football—anything to get her exercise outside as often as possible. “Fresh air, sunshine, the variety of the trees as the seasons change,” said Herring, an administrator at Carroll Community College in North Maryland. “There’s something about the energetic healing5-29-2024
TOO MUCH EXERCISE COULD ACTUALLY TRIGGER A HOT FLASH
Hot flashes affect roughly 80% of women during the years around menopause. Despite how common they are and how much research has been conducted relative to what causes them, much remains unknown. A new study suggests that acute changes in physical activity, temperature, and humidity may play a role in the hot flash experience. Results of the survey are published online today in the journal Menopause. As one of the most frequently experienced menopause symptoms, hot flashes are sudden heat dissipation events that often involve an increase in heat transfer5-29-2024
ADEQUATE SLEEP IMPORTANT FOR YOUR HEART HEALTH, SAYS PHYSICIAN
Does how much you sleep affect your heart? According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, adults who sleep fewer than seven hours each night are more likely to experience health problems. Dr. Juan Cardenas Rosales, an internal medicine physician at Mayo Clinic, stresses that adequate sleep is crucial for your overall well-being, including your heart health. Getting a good night’s sleep can give you the energy to jump-start your day and your health. “Sleeping is very important to try to prevent other chronic5-29-2024
STUDY SHOWS DISRUPTED SLEEP INCREASES RISK FOR SUICIDE AND HOMICIDE
An analysis by researchers in the Department of Psychiatry at the University of Arizona College of Medicine—Tucson showed that risks for death by suicide and homicide peak at night, with nocturnal wakefulness, age, alcohol use and relationship conflicts being especially prevalent as contributing factors. Nearly 19% of suicides and 36% of homicides occur at night. Suicide and homicide share little in common, but their highly concordant overnight risk patterns suggest a common feature: nocturnal wakefulness. “Disrupted sleep may acutely impair rational thought, which can drive impulsive behaviors in vulnerable individuals,”5-29-2024
RESEARCHERS IDENTIFY THE INITIAL STEPS IN COLORECTAL CANCER FORMATION
Research provides new evidence that most colorectal cancers begin with the loss of intestinal stem cells, even before cancer-causing genetic alterations appear. The results, published on May 29 in Developmental Cell, overturn the prevailing theory for colorectal5-29-2024
CAN PSYCHEDELICS HELP STUTTERERS?
Synesthesia, hallucinations, euphoria. The documented effects of classic psychedelic substances such as psilocybin (magic mushrooms) or lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD) are vast. With their usage common and their effects profound, a team of speech and psychology researchers explored the impact of psychedelics on people who stutter, finding evidence that users see some benefits. “Given the positive effects of psychedelics on conditions like anxiety and PTSD, which share symptoms with stuttering, we think that investigating the potential impact of psychedelics on stuttering can be a fruitful area of research,” says lead5-29-2024
SPENDING TOO MUCH TIME ON SOCIAL MEDIA AND DOOMSCROLLING? THE PROBLEM MIGHT BE FOMO
For as long as we have used the internet to communicate and connect with each other, it has influenced how we think, feel and behave. During the COVID pandemic, many of us were “cut off” from our social worlds through restrictions, lockdowns and mandates. Understandably, many of us tried to find ways to connect online. Now, as pandemic restrictions have lifted, some of the ways we use the internet have become concerning. Part of what drives problematic internet use may be something most of us5-29-2024
TIPS FOR PROTECTING BABIES FROM HARMFUL UV RAYS
Skin cancer is the most common cancer in the U.S., and it only takes one blistering sunburn during childhood or adolescence to nearly double a person’s chance of developing melanoma later in life, according to the American Academy of Dermatology Association. Since babies are much more prone to sunburn than older kids, it’s especially important to protect them from the sun’s harmful ultraviolet (UV) rays. May is Melanoma and Skin Cancer Awareness Month.5-29-2024
AUTHORITIES URGE PROPER COOKING OF WILD GAME AFTER 6 RELATIVES FALL ILL FROM PARASITE IN BEAR MEAT
The federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has reaffirmed the importance of properly cooking wild game after six people became sick from a parasite traced to undercooked bear meat that was served at a family reunion in South Dakota. The six—one in South Dakota, four in Minnesota and one in Arizona—became infected when bear meat that was served rare turned out to be contaminated with roundworms that cause trichinellosis, also known as trichinosis. Two of the people ate only the vegetables that were grilled with5-29-2024
FIGHT AGAINST OBESITY GOES FAR BEYOND INDIVIDUAL STRUGGLE TO CHANGE LIFESTYLE, SCIENTISTS SAY
Overweight and obesity rates are rising worldwide, with several Latin American countries in the forefront. Estimates for 2020 pointed to a global obesity rate of 14%, and experts predicted 24% by 2035, including both adults and children. “Nutritional and pharmacological strategies are important to mitigate the problem, but is this enough? We know socioeconomic and environmental factors influence the occurrence5-29-2024
POTENTIAL THERAPY FOR ADDICTION, DEPRESSION AND OCD
A model image of the targeted deep brain zone, the striatum, a key player in reward and reinforcement mechanisms. Neurological disorders, such as addiction, depression, and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), affect millions of people worldwide and are often characterized by complex pathologies involving multiple brain regions and circuits. These conditions are notoriously difficult to treat due to the intricate and poorly understood nature of brain functions and the challenge of delivering therapies to deep brain structures without invasive procedures. In the rapidly evolving field of neuroscience, non-invasive brain stimulation5-29-2024
STUDY FINDS HEART HEALTHY BEHAVIORS MAY HELP REVERSE RAPID CELL AGING
The benefit of better heart health may be associated with the positive impact of heart healthy lifestyle factors on biological aging (the age of the body and its cells), according to research published in the Journal of the American Heart Association. “Our study findings tell us that no matter what your actual age is, better heart-healthy behaviors and managing heart disease risk factors were associated with a younger biological age and a lower risk of heart disease and stroke, death from heart disease and stroke and death from any cause,”5-29-2024
COMBO THERAPY BOOSTS SURVIVAL FOR ADVANCED COLON CANCER
People battling advanced colon cancers might have a new treatment option that could extend their survival, a new trial finds. The findings were present the at the annual meeting of the American Society of Clinical Oncology in Chicago, and should be considered preliminary until published in a peer-reviewed journal. A combination of two experimental immunotherapy drugs plus standard chemotherapy led to a median 19.7 month survival for patients, compared to the median 9.5 months observed among folks who only got a targeted therapy called regorafenib. “These results pave the way5-29-2024
TICKS AND THE DISEASES THEY CARRY
In many regions of the U.S. and the world, enjoying the great outdoors comes with a hidden risk: ticks and the diseases they carry. Ticks can carry pathogens like Borrelia burgdorferi and Borrelia mayonii, which can cause Lyme disease in humans. Lyme disease is the most common tickborne illness, but there are also dozens of other diseases that ticks can transmit to humans. Dr. Bobbi Pritt, director of the Clinical Parasitology Laboratory at Mayo Clinic, says reported cases of tickborne infections are on the rise, and she offers practical tips5-29-2024
HIGH PRICE OF POPULAR DIABETES DRUGS DEPRIVES LOW-INCOME PEOPLE OF EFFECTIVE TREATMENT
For the past year and a half, Tandra Cooper Harris and her husband, Marcus, who both have diabetes, have struggled to fill their prescriptions for the medications they need to control their blood sugar. Without Ozempic or a similar drug, Cooper Harris suffers blackouts, becomes too tired to watch her grandchildren, and struggles to earn extra money braiding hair. Marcus Harris, who works as a Waffle House cook, needs Trulicity to keep his legs and feet from swelling and bruising. The couple’s doctor has tried prescribing similar drugs, which mimic5-29-2024
BREAST CANCER SURGEON RUNS A FARM WHERE THE ONLY CROP IS WELLNESS
Monique Gary, a breast cancer surgeon, is a self-described “Philly girl” who was born in Jefferson Einstein hospital and graduated from Philadelphia High School for Girls. Four years ago, she left city life and bought a 40-acre farm in Upper Bucks County, where she runs free, daylong retreats for cancer patients and offers nature walks, aromatherapy, juicing and cooking demonstrations, gardening, and yoga by her fish pond. The farm’s only crop is wellness. “I’m a busy surgeon and when I moved here, I didn’t have any crops, but I knew5-29-2024
SCIENTISTS IDENTIFY KEY PROTEIN THAT PRESERVES MOTOR ABILITY DURING AGING
scientists show that age-related decline in motor ability can be countered in fruit flies by enhancing the expression of the protein Trio, suggesting potential treatments for age-related movement decline. As we age, we suffer a noticeable decline in motor ability, which affects our quality of life and independence. This can be traced to changes occurring at neuromuscular junctions, the critical points where nerve cells communicate with muscles. The deterioration of motor ability is closely linked to the degeneration of5-29-2024
LOCAL DISPARITIES MAY PREVENT NATIONAL VACCINATION EFFORTS FOR RUBELLA
When public health officials make policies about when and how vaccination programs are implemented, they must weigh the benefits and risks of how infectious diseases spread throughout the country. However, these analyses are often based on national-level data and, in some countries, may overlook nuances at the local level. A new analysis by an international team, including Penn State researchers, revealed that the resulting recommendations may keep some countries from realizing the benefits of vaccination and globally eradicating diseases, such as rubella—a contagious viral infection that causes mild symptoms in5-29-2024
INTERMITTENT FASTING SHOWS PROMISE IN IMPROVING GUT HEALTH, WEIGHT MANAGEMENT
The human gut contains trillions of bacterial and other microbes collectively known as the gut microbiome. New research explores how these diverse microorganisms help manage weight. ASU researchers explore the effects of an intermittent fasting diet combined with protein pacing on body weight and overall health. Credit: The Biodesign institute at Arizona State University A new study by researchers from Arizona State University and their colleagues highlights a dietary strategy for significant health improvement and weight management. Participants following an intermittent fasting and protein-pacing regimen, which involves evenly spaced protein5-29-2024
A NEW PATH FOR CANCER THERAPY
Tumor cells often hijack normal physiological processes to support their growth, exploiting proteins that are in charge of essential cell functions. It is therefore important to block the activity of these proteins only in cancer cells without affecting their crucial roles in healthy tissues. For this reason, classical approaches using small molecules that induce systemic inhibition across all cells in the body can lead to severe side effects. An example of essential proteins hijacked by cancer cells are the cathepsins, a family of5-29-2024
DO EPILEPSY MEDICATIONS TAKEN DURING PREGNANCY AFFECT A CHILD’S CREATIVITY?
While older drugs for epilepsy, taken while pregnant, have been shown in previous research to affect the creative thinking of children, a new study finds no effects on creativity for children born to those taking newer epilepsy drugs. This study is published in Neurology. Overall, the study found no effects on the children’s creative abilities or their executive function, which is a person’s ability to plan, focus, and manage multiple tasks. However, when researchers looked only at children with higher concentrations of these medications in the mother’s blood during the5-29-2024
WHY USING DATING APPS FOR PUBLIC HEALTH MESSAGING IS AN ETHICAL DILEMMA
Dating apps are not just about finding love or hooking up. They’re becoming increasingly important in the communication of public health messaging, particularly sexual health. In 2023, Harvard Public Health magazine suggested that dating apps could “become a key component in [sexually infectious diseases] prevention.” And their prediction seems to be spot on. Grindr, a dating app popular among men who have sex with men, for example, has recently partnered with MPOWER in Ireland and The Love Tank in London to allow users to order HIV test kits through the5-29-2024
HOW EXTREME HEAT CAN AFFECT MENTAL ILLNESSES
During heat waves, hospital admissions for mental health spike. The past 10 years were the hottest on record, and as we prepare for another scorcher of a summer, it’s time to take steps to increase our preparedness for extreme heat. The potential for heat stress, heat exhaustion and heat stroke are well known hazards of extreme heat. Yet, physical health is not the only factor to consider under extreme heat; mental health can also suffer. Many people can relate to the sleepless nights during hot summer months, as well as5-29-2024
FROM HEALTH TO SPORTS—EARS CAN SAY A LOT ABOUT YOU
An ear is like an iceberg—much of it is out of sight. The only visible part is the auricle—the seashell shaped structure made of bendy cartilage, covered in skin. Its main role is to act as a trumpet, filtering and funneling sound waves down into the middle, then the inner ear, where they are converted into our sense of hearing. A medical ear examination usually involves an inspection of the canal, using an instrument called an otoscope. This is usually to investigate more common ear conditions—an infection, or a clog5-29-2024
HOW TO KNOW WHEN IT’S TIME TO QUIT THERAPY
Therapy is great. It gives you the space, time and resources to handle the most difficult challenges of life. Therapy can be especially helpful in the often-confusing life period of your 20s and 30s, when so much is changing and many of your peers have wildly different lifestyles. The aim is to help you discover the thoughts, emotions and behavior that are negatively affecting you, determine where these come from, and develop strategies to change them. But then, how do you know when it is the right time to quit5-29-2024
STUDY FINDS THAT MEMORY COMPLAINTS CAN PREDICT BIOLOGICAL CHANGES IN THE BRAIN
A new study adds further evidence that when a patient or family member notices signs of persistent memory loss, it’s important to speak with a doctor. While there are many reasons why someone’s memory may change, researchers from Mass General Brigham who are studying patients prior to diagnosis with Alzheimer’s disease found changes in the brain when patients and their study partners—those who could answer questions about their daily cognitive function—reported a decline in cognition. Using imaging, the researchers found reports of cognitive decline were associated with accumulation of tau5-29-2024
BLOOD FLOW MAKES WAVES ACROSS THE SURFACE OF THE MOUSE BRAIN
Researchers have, for the first time, visualized the full network of blood vessels across the cortex of awake mice, finding that blood vessels rhythmically expand and contract, leading to “waves” washing across the surface of the brain. These findings improve the understanding of how the brain receives blood, though the function of the waves remains a mystery. The work is published in the journal Neuron. A network of elastic and actively pumping vessels carrying oxygenated blood span the surface of the brain before entering the5-29-2024
RESEARCH REVEALS WHAT WE SEE ONLINE AFFECTS US MORE THAN LENGTH OF EXPOSURE
It is what we are looking at, rather than how much time we are spending our time online that influences our health and well-being, according to a major new report. The study, published in the journal World Psychiatry, is a comprehensive examination of the latest scientific evidence on screen time and mental health, carried out by an international research team. The authors emphasize the importance of taking an individualized and multi-dimensional approach to how the Internet affects mental health, cognition and social functioning. Content that may be relatively harmless to5-29-2024
LIFELONG COGNITIVE RESERVE HELPS MAINTAIN LATE-LIFE COGNITIVE HEALTH, 15-YEAR FOLLOW-UP STUDY SUGGESTS
The brain’s flexibility and ability to cope with loss of neurons or other lesions in the brain is called cognitive reserve. In a 15-year follow-up study, researchers at the division of Aging Research Center (ARC), Karolinska Institutet, suggest that lifelong cognitive reserve helps maintain late-life cognitive health by delaying cognitive transition in the preclinical stages of dementia. The results of their findings were recently published in Alzheimers & Dementia. “We found evidence that lifelong greater cognitive reserve was linked with reduced risks of late-life transitions from normal cognition to mild5-29-2024
YOU DON’T HAVE TO LIVE WITH PELVIC PAIN
Pelvic health is crucial to a woman’s overall well-being but is often misunderstood or overlooked. When symptoms such as urinary incontinence, pain or discomfort, or pain during intercourse occur, they are dismissed as a byproduct of pregnancy and childbirth or just something that comes with age like arthritis. But those symptoms can have a profound effect on a woman’s physical, emotional and social well-being and can lead to more serious complications if untreated. One of the most common conditions is pelvic organ prolapse. This condition occurs when the muscles, ligaments5-29-2024
RESEARCHERS DEVELOP MICRONEEDLE PATCH THAT CAN DETECT SKIN CANCER EARLY
Researchers have developed a new method for detecting malignant melanoma. A new type of patch equipped with microneedles can identify the biomarker tyrosinase directly in the skin, according to a study published in Advanced Materials. The patch is equipped with microneedles that can detect tyrosinase, an enzyme that is an important biomarker for malignant melanoma. By measuring the enzyme’s5-29-2024
MORE OUT-OF-STATE PATIENTS SEEK ABORTIONS IN WASHINGTON STATE
Changes in Weekly Number of Abortions and Out-of-State Patients Before and After the Dobbs v Jackson Women’s Health Organization Decision, January 1, 2017, to July 31, 2023. Vertical orange line indicates the Supreme Court Dobbs v Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision (June 24, 2022). The blue line indicates deseasonalized trends, the black line indicates estimated seasonality, the dotted line indicates the counterfactual, and the dots indicate the outcome (eg, weekly number of abortions).5-29-2024
GAPS BY RACE, ETHNICITY EXIST IN HEALTH CARE QUALITY UNDER TRADITIONAL MEDICARE, MEDICARE ADVANTAGE PLANS
Medicare Advantage (MA) is an increasingly popular source of Medicare coverage for all recipients, including individuals from racial and ethnic minority groups. Certain managed care strategies used in MA—such as prior authorization, gatekeeping for access to certain services or specialists, and narrow provider networks—may pose challenges in accessing care. This means the quality of MA-funded care for minority groups has critical health equity implications. A new study published in Health Affairs and led by Professor Jeah Jung found that MA plans do not equally improve the quality of care across5-29-2024
STUDY SHOWS MORE THAN JUST SOCIAL MEDIA USE MAY BE CAUSING DEPRESSION IN YOUNG ADULTS
Over the past few decades, there has been a significant increase in the prevalence of depression in adolescents and young adults—and a simultaneous uptick in the inclusion of technology and social media in everyday life. However, it is unclear how exactly social media use and depression are associated and relate to other behaviors, such as physical activity, green space exposure, cannabis use and eveningness (the tendency to stay up late). In a study published in the International Journal of Mental Health and Addiction, a team of researchers, led by experts5-29-2024
MATTERING MUST BE CENTRAL IN YOUTH SUICIDE PREVENTION, SAYS STUDY
Youth suicide is a growing concern in Canada, the U.S., and around the world, with some research suggesting this might be linked with excessive social media use in vulnerable teens. With Mental Health Awareness Month closing out this week, York University Psychology Professor Gordon Flett says he was motivated by a growing sense of alarm and frustration when undertaking a review of studies on mattering and youth suicide for his latest research, which appears in Child Protection and Practice. Mattering is feeling significant in the eyes of other people, which5-29-2024
HEARING STUDY REVEALS PREVALENCE OF TINNITUS
About 78% of participants in the Apple Hearing Study, conducted by the University of Michigan, have experienced tinnitus—the perception of sound that others do not hear. That is just one of the findings that U-M researchers and Apple shared today from the Apple Hearing Study, one of the largest surveys on tinnitus to understand the effects of5-29-2024
RESEARCHER CALLS FOR MORE RESOURCES TO BRING REGULAR MAMMOGRAMS TO RURAL TEXANS
women who live in rural Texas, particularly those of a minority background, were less likely to get routine mammograms when compared to their urban counter parts. The findings are published in the journal Geriatric Nursing. Using Texas Medicare data, the5-29-2024
TO SOLVE THE NURSING SHORTAGE, RESEARCHER PROPOSES GOVERNMENT FUNDING FIX
Health economist Olga Yakusheva, a professor at the University of Michigan School of Nursing, believes that current government reimbursement models incentivize hospitals to cut nursing jobs to save money. Yakusheva, an expert on the economic value of nursing, and Robert Longyear, co-founder and CEO of Avenue Health, present a new hospital funding model they believe could help solve the nurse staffing problem and improve patient care. Yakusheva discusses their research, which appears in an article in the journal Health Affairs. Since COVID, we’ve seen a lot of media coverage about5-29-2024
IMPROVING CELL THERAPY BY CREATING T-CELL ‘SUPER SOLDIERS’
A new proof-of-concept study by researchers at the Herbert Irving Comprehensive Cancer Center (HICCC) shows that changing only a single letter in the DNA code of selected genes in T cells may lead to improved cell therapy. The researchers, led by Benjamin Izar, a member of the HICCC, used novel CRISPR-dependent base editing to “supercharge” cell therapies, making them potentially more effective for more patients. Cell therapies work by re-engineering a5-29-2024
ULTRASOUND LOCALIZATION MICROSCOPY: BUBBLES REVEAL TINY VESSELS
To the trained eyes of a doctor, the gray-white shapes and textures of an ultrasound image reveal more than to the layperson. But the tiniest vascular structures have remained elusive—until now. The team from the Department of Medical Engineering at Ruhr University Bochum headed by Professor Georg Schmitz is perfecting ultrasound localization microscopy (ULM). By deploying a commercially available contrast agent with microbubbles and performing a number of calculation steps, it’s now possible, for example, to image the vascular structure of a mouse kidney in minute detail, as well as5-29-2024
NOVEL DEVICE COULD ALLOW EARLY DETECTION OF DEADLY CONDITION
Each year, at least 1.7 million adults in the United States and millions more worldwide develop sepsis, a life-threatening condition that occurs when the body’s immune system has an extreme response to an infection. The condition, which can be difficult to detect and treat, rapidly damages tissues and vital organs and is one of the leading causes of death in hospitals. To help doctors spot when the condition may be developing, one medical technology company, Opticyte, has developed a novel, noninvasive device that can send out alerts when5-29-2024
INTERNATIONAL EXPERTS REACH CONSENSUS ON THE LABELING OF SPATIAL NEGLECT
A consensus has been achieved by an international team of rehabilitation researchers and clinicians on the standardized labeling of spatial neglect, a common disorder following neurological injury, which is characterized by a lack of awareness or response to objects or stimuli on the side opposite a brain lesion. The panel reached a 75% consensus to adopt “spatial neglect” as the standard term for the disorder. The consensus paper, titled “An International and Multidisciplinary Consensus on the Labeling of Spatial Neglect Using a Modified Delphi Method,” was published open access on5-29-2024
RESEARCHERS USE AI, SOCIAL MEDIA TO IDENTIFY HEALTH CONCERNS OF PEOPLE LIVING WITH HIV AND AIDS
Machine learning, artificial intelligence (AI) and social media are providing researchers with the opportunity to analyze valuable information about social issues in relation to health and mental health, particularly in relation to topics people may be reluctant to discuss in other settings, according to Richard Lomotey, associate professor of information technology at Penn State Beaver. Lomotey, along with researchers from Penn State, the University of Saskatchewan- 5-29-2024RESEARCH TEAM CREATES MICE THAT BETTER REFLECT HUMAN GENETIC VARIATION
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2024.05.30 00:19 Brilliant-Lychee-518 Sugar Defender
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- Regulates Blood Sugar Levels: Sugar Defender contains chromium, a key ingredient known for its ability to regulate insulin response and control blood sugar levels. By promoting stability in glucose levels, it helps prevent spikes and crashes associated with high blood sugar.
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Sugar Defender's potent formula is a curated blend of 24 natural ingredients, strategically chosen to synergistically combat blood sugar imbalances. From Eleuthero's energy boost to Chromium's regulatory prowess, each component contributes to a holistic health solution.1 Eleuthero:
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Sugar Defender Supplement Benefits
Sugar Defender delivers a comprehensive health solution. With benefits ranging from balanced blood sugar levels to increased energy and weight loss support, it stands as a testament to holistic well-being.- Healthy Blood Sugar Levels: Maintains steady blood sugar levels, preventing spikes and crashes for sustained energy.
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- Adaptogenic Qualities: Contains adaptogenic herbs like eleuthero and ginseng, which help the body adapt to stress and maintain balance.
2024.05.29 18:50 odstwingman Mended Heart: Chapter 5
Credit to for creating this lovely world. Thanks to for help with editing.
Mended Heart
Chapter 5
Memory transcription subject: Selni, Venlil civilian
Date [standardized human time]: August 28th 2136
The video player’s power light blinked in the darkness. I had paused the movie when Jon passed out somewhere around the middle of the night. Looking down at the predator gently sighing in his sleep I wondered how I had ever been afraid of him. I was suddenly reminded of a human saying I had heard about it supposedly being illegal to move while a ‘cat’ was on your lap. Not sure what a cat is but I understood the sentiment looking down at the human peacefully asleep with his head on my lap.
After a few minutes of trying to sleep upright I decided it was hopeless and started trying to scoot out from under him. He squirmed and reached as I did, wrapping his arms around my waist and squeezing me before his eyes popped open.
He blinked a few times before releasing me.
“Sorry, sorry.” He muttered groggily as he sat up and yawned. The view of his maw stretched wide shot a tingle of fear up my spine I hadn’t felt in days.
“D-don’t worry about it. S-sorry I woke you, my leg was starting to fall asleep.” I chuckled, doing my best to ignore the feeling. I thought I was past that!
“So, how did you like it?” Jon smiled, clearly still very tired.
“Well, aside from my leg falling asleep it was kinda cute.” My ears laid back in embarrassment and I could feel the tips turning orange. Why would he ask like that? It’s not like we were intentionally cuddling.
“Oh, um… Thanks? I uh… I meant the movies though.” Jon swept his black hair over his ear and averted his gaze awkwardly, A hint of a blush visible on his cheeks.
“O-oh, OH, ignore me oh goodness.” I must have started glowing orange after such a misstep. “I thought they were great, I’m excited to see the rest of them!” I blurted out, trying to change the subject and escape my embarrassment as fast as possible.
Jon only smiled and giggled at my plight. “I’m glad you enjoyed them. Episode 3 is going to be a lot, It’s my personal favorite.”
“Oh boy now I’m even more excited. We really should get some sleep though, only a few hours until we’re supposed to give Garret our answer.”
Jon looked at the time and flushed even more pale. “Oh damn, you’re right. I guess I’ll get to my bunk then. Sweet dreams Selni.” My human stood and shakily walked over to his bunk before flopping into it and wrapping himself in a blanket.
“Sweet dreams Jon.” I climbed up to my bunk and laid on my back. I rubbed my still orange cheeks and stared at the ceiling, slowly drifting off to sleep.
My dreams were marred by terrifying images of battle, I crawled through the destroyed remains of a building and shouted for Jon as debris rained down around me. I looked up at the sky as Arxur ships descended towards me. Injured and dead of many races littered the ground around me, a hoard of Greys charged toward me out of the dusty fog. Suddenly a hand gripped my shoulder and I screamed in terror.
“Hey, wake up! You ok?” Jon’s face peeking over the edge of my bunk was the first thing I saw as I jolted awake. His hand gripping my shoulder as he had just shaken me back to consciousness. “You kept saying my name, you were shaking a lot.”
“Y-yeah, I uh… I had a bad dream.” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of my bunk and struggled to control my rapid breathing.
“You wanna talk about it? We have a while before our meeting.” Jon looked up at me with sincere concern in his piercing eyes. He looked on edge, as if he was expecting me to fall.
“It was… It was a battle; I was surrounded by destruction and I couldn’t find you…” Tears began forming in my eyes despite my efforts to contain them. “The Arxur were attacking and… It felt so real.”
“Aw Selni, it’s ok. It was just a dream, you’re safe. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere without you any time soon.” The lanky human placed a hand on my paw reassuringly. “Do you think it was because of the movies? I probably shouldn’t have shown you something so violent right before bed.”
“No, I don’t think it was that. I wasn’t that scared watching them, even during the big fights. Maybe I’m just anxious about this new job. This is the furthest I’ve ever been from Venlil Prime you know? How can we be sure we won’t end up in the middle of a battle if we venture out with the UN?” I shuddered at the fleeting remnants of the dream in my mind. “Can we really trust that they’ll keep us out of harm’s way?”
“Well I trust they won’t intentionally endanger us but, I guess we can’t be totally sure we won’t end up in some kind of crazy situation. All I can say for sure is that no matter what happens we’ll be together for it.” His hand gripped my paw firmly. “I don’t exactly have a lot of friends, you’re important to me. I may not be the strongest, or the fastest but I won’t abandon you, no matter what.” He held eye contact with me, his intense gaze once would have intimidated me but now his conviction only reassured me.
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around my human friend, allowing him to lower me to the ground. He groaned at the weight but managed to gently set me down before crouching to my level and wiping away my tears. “You ok now? Are you ok with this job?”
“I think so, it’s too good of an opportunity not to take.” I stood up straight and rubbed my face, trying to wake up the rest of the way.
“Good, I’m glad I’ll get to share space with you. Flying is a passion of mine.” A grin spread across the human’s face and he popped upright, shaking his arms in front of his chest again and squeaking excitedly.
“What is that? I’ve seen you do it before, but you seem to hide it in public.” My ears flicked forward curiously and I tilted my head slightly at the sound.
“It’s uh… It’s called stimming. It’s something I do when I get excited. It’s kinda rare among humans but not terribly uncommon. I generally try to hide it to avoid people who would belittle me for it, not that I think anyone here would.” He explained reluctantly, clearly uncomfortable with it being pointed out.
“Do your people affiliate it with predator disease?” I tilted my head inquisitively. My human is definitely odd, but not a threat to the herd. He must struggle to blend in.
“Predator disease, what’s that? Some mind-altering illness like Rabies?” Jon looked back at me with a confused expression.
“You don’t know? It’s an illness with many strains that causes anti-herd behavior. Thought to be spread around by predators, though I suppose we know at this point that Humans don’t spread it.” I continued to explain more details about what I knew, I wasn’t an expert by any means. My medical training was for physical injuries, not behavioral issues.
“It sounds like you’re describing all mental illness as one blanket term. I’m sure the UN medical staff would like to hear about this if they haven’t already. This could be a bit of a problem.” Jon ran a hand over his face and paced, looking clearly distressed. “Selni… What does your society do with these ‘predator diseased’ individuals?” He looked back at me apprehensively.
“Well usually they are taken to a facility to be treated, the non-violent ones come back once their condition is cured.” I explained. How could he not know this? Did Humans just have deranged individuals running around without any controls?
“Oh fuck, the idea of ‘curing’ mental illness has been a major problem in our past. I need you to understand that just because someone is a little different, it doesn’t make them a threat. I’m not exactly ‘normal’ by human standards but, you know that I’m not going to hurt anyone right?” He crouched down to my height; his eyes had a pleading quality I hadn’t seen before.
“As a medical professional I have to advise you to seek help if you think you have predator disease, but as your friend I don’t think anything is wrong with you. I know you aren’t a danger to me. I’ve seen the tests and we’ve shared this room for all this time.” I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, giving him the hug I could see he needed. “I don’t feel any differently about you now than I did before you explained.”
Jon hugged me back tightly, we sat in that embrace for a while before he relaxed his grip and gently pushed against me, signaling that he had had enough. “Sorry, I’ve kinda been averse to physical contact for most of my life. Bad experiences I can tell you about some other time, I enjoy your hugs and little gestures but don’t feel bad if I ask you to stop sometime. I can only handle so much at once.”
“I understand, let me know if you’re ever uncomfortable.” I flicked my ears in acknowledgment and grabbed my bag. “We should probably get on to that meeting huh?”
“Yeah, guess we got a little distracted there. This morning has already been a lot, I wonder if Garret will have work for us right away?” Jon stood slowly so as not to anger his blood pressure and sighed loudly.
I tentatively grabbed his hand, looking up at him for his ok. He squeezed my paw in return as we walked out the door. Most folk on the station were still asleep, I found the empty halls a bit unnerving, but my human looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him out here.
Jon was panting lightly as we arrived in the cafeteria. Sure enough Garret was sitting at the table, right on time.
“Jon, Selni. I hope you two had a good night, you don’t look very well rested.” The soldier gestured for us to sit and slid a couple cups of coffee over to us. “So, any questions, comments, concerns?”
Jon pulled the contract out of his bag, placing it on the table and pointing to a specific line. “It says here that we’ll be responsible for supporting troops in a non-combat capacity. What does that mean exactly?” Jon sat up straight and put on a professional attitude I hadn’t seen from him before.
“It means that in the event of a military operation you, among others, will be expected to transport supplies and personnel to and from secured landing sites. It does not mean we will send you into fire.” Garret explained.
“Ok that’s what I expected. My only other request is that Selni be penciled in. He’s a medical professional and will no doubt be able to help, also he’s my exchange partner and friend so anywhere I go he’ll be there too.” Jon folded his hands together maintaining his professional attitude as he made his request.
“I see no problem with that, it’ll be a good opportunity for the exchange program to see how you work together. I can have an amended contract ready in an hour or so then we can meet up again.” Garret slid the contract over and tucked it in his bag. “Oh, before I forget I’ll send you the manual for the transport craft you’ll be piloting. It’s similar to what you’re used to, but you should still read up.”
“Oh no worries, I’m a sucker for ships. I’ll enjoy getting to know this new vessel.” My human pulled out his holopad, a gleam in his eye as the file came across. “Thanks for the opportunity, I’m looking forward to flying again.”
Our UN contact bid us farewell before heading off to his other business.
Jon visibly deflated once Garret was out of sight. “Well, there we go.” He sighed, placing the holopad on the table and opening the manual. “Wana go over this together? Learn how to fix up the innards of a ship?”
“Why did you have to say it like that?” I chuckled, feigning disgust. “It’ll be a fun thing to occupy us until Garret calls at least.” I leaned in and looked at the screen as Jon scrolled through it, gushing about technical details I didn’t fully understand.
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submitted by odstwingman to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Mended Heart
Chapter 5
Memory transcription subject: Selni, Venlil civilian
Date [standardized human time]: August 28th 2136
The video player’s power light blinked in the darkness. I had paused the movie when Jon passed out somewhere around the middle of the night. Looking down at the predator gently sighing in his sleep I wondered how I had ever been afraid of him. I was suddenly reminded of a human saying I had heard about it supposedly being illegal to move while a ‘cat’ was on your lap. Not sure what a cat is but I understood the sentiment looking down at the human peacefully asleep with his head on my lap.
After a few minutes of trying to sleep upright I decided it was hopeless and started trying to scoot out from under him. He squirmed and reached as I did, wrapping his arms around my waist and squeezing me before his eyes popped open.
He blinked a few times before releasing me.
“Sorry, sorry.” He muttered groggily as he sat up and yawned. The view of his maw stretched wide shot a tingle of fear up my spine I hadn’t felt in days.
“D-don’t worry about it. S-sorry I woke you, my leg was starting to fall asleep.” I chuckled, doing my best to ignore the feeling. I thought I was past that!
“So, how did you like it?” Jon smiled, clearly still very tired.
“Well, aside from my leg falling asleep it was kinda cute.” My ears laid back in embarrassment and I could feel the tips turning orange. Why would he ask like that? It’s not like we were intentionally cuddling.
“Oh, um… Thanks? I uh… I meant the movies though.” Jon swept his black hair over his ear and averted his gaze awkwardly, A hint of a blush visible on his cheeks.
“O-oh, OH, ignore me oh goodness.” I must have started glowing orange after such a misstep. “I thought they were great, I’m excited to see the rest of them!” I blurted out, trying to change the subject and escape my embarrassment as fast as possible.
Jon only smiled and giggled at my plight. “I’m glad you enjoyed them. Episode 3 is going to be a lot, It’s my personal favorite.”
“Oh boy now I’m even more excited. We really should get some sleep though, only a few hours until we’re supposed to give Garret our answer.”
Jon looked at the time and flushed even more pale. “Oh damn, you’re right. I guess I’ll get to my bunk then. Sweet dreams Selni.” My human stood and shakily walked over to his bunk before flopping into it and wrapping himself in a blanket.
“Sweet dreams Jon.” I climbed up to my bunk and laid on my back. I rubbed my still orange cheeks and stared at the ceiling, slowly drifting off to sleep.
“Hey, wake up! You ok?” Jon’s face peeking over the edge of my bunk was the first thing I saw as I jolted awake. His hand gripping my shoulder as he had just shaken me back to consciousness. “You kept saying my name, you were shaking a lot.”
“Y-yeah, I uh… I had a bad dream.” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of my bunk and struggled to control my rapid breathing.
“You wanna talk about it? We have a while before our meeting.” Jon looked up at me with sincere concern in his piercing eyes. He looked on edge, as if he was expecting me to fall.
“It was… It was a battle; I was surrounded by destruction and I couldn’t find you…” Tears began forming in my eyes despite my efforts to contain them. “The Arxur were attacking and… It felt so real.”
“Aw Selni, it’s ok. It was just a dream, you’re safe. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere without you any time soon.” The lanky human placed a hand on my paw reassuringly. “Do you think it was because of the movies? I probably shouldn’t have shown you something so violent right before bed.”
“No, I don’t think it was that. I wasn’t that scared watching them, even during the big fights. Maybe I’m just anxious about this new job. This is the furthest I’ve ever been from Venlil Prime you know? How can we be sure we won’t end up in the middle of a battle if we venture out with the UN?” I shuddered at the fleeting remnants of the dream in my mind. “Can we really trust that they’ll keep us out of harm’s way?”
“Well I trust they won’t intentionally endanger us but, I guess we can’t be totally sure we won’t end up in some kind of crazy situation. All I can say for sure is that no matter what happens we’ll be together for it.” His hand gripped my paw firmly. “I don’t exactly have a lot of friends, you’re important to me. I may not be the strongest, or the fastest but I won’t abandon you, no matter what.” He held eye contact with me, his intense gaze once would have intimidated me but now his conviction only reassured me.
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around my human friend, allowing him to lower me to the ground. He groaned at the weight but managed to gently set me down before crouching to my level and wiping away my tears. “You ok now? Are you ok with this job?”
“I think so, it’s too good of an opportunity not to take.” I stood up straight and rubbed my face, trying to wake up the rest of the way.
“Good, I’m glad I’ll get to share space with you. Flying is a passion of mine.” A grin spread across the human’s face and he popped upright, shaking his arms in front of his chest again and squeaking excitedly.
“What is that? I’ve seen you do it before, but you seem to hide it in public.” My ears flicked forward curiously and I tilted my head slightly at the sound.
“It’s uh… It’s called stimming. It’s something I do when I get excited. It’s kinda rare among humans but not terribly uncommon. I generally try to hide it to avoid people who would belittle me for it, not that I think anyone here would.” He explained reluctantly, clearly uncomfortable with it being pointed out.
“Do your people affiliate it with predator disease?” I tilted my head inquisitively. My human is definitely odd, but not a threat to the herd. He must struggle to blend in.
“Predator disease, what’s that? Some mind-altering illness like Rabies?” Jon looked back at me with a confused expression.
“You don’t know? It’s an illness with many strains that causes anti-herd behavior. Thought to be spread around by predators, though I suppose we know at this point that Humans don’t spread it.” I continued to explain more details about what I knew, I wasn’t an expert by any means. My medical training was for physical injuries, not behavioral issues.
“It sounds like you’re describing all mental illness as one blanket term. I’m sure the UN medical staff would like to hear about this if they haven’t already. This could be a bit of a problem.” Jon ran a hand over his face and paced, looking clearly distressed. “Selni… What does your society do with these ‘predator diseased’ individuals?” He looked back at me apprehensively.
“Well usually they are taken to a facility to be treated, the non-violent ones come back once their condition is cured.” I explained. How could he not know this? Did Humans just have deranged individuals running around without any controls?
“Oh fuck, the idea of ‘curing’ mental illness has been a major problem in our past. I need you to understand that just because someone is a little different, it doesn’t make them a threat. I’m not exactly ‘normal’ by human standards but, you know that I’m not going to hurt anyone right?” He crouched down to my height; his eyes had a pleading quality I hadn’t seen before.
“As a medical professional I have to advise you to seek help if you think you have predator disease, but as your friend I don’t think anything is wrong with you. I know you aren’t a danger to me. I’ve seen the tests and we’ve shared this room for all this time.” I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, giving him the hug I could see he needed. “I don’t feel any differently about you now than I did before you explained.”
Jon hugged me back tightly, we sat in that embrace for a while before he relaxed his grip and gently pushed against me, signaling that he had had enough. “Sorry, I’ve kinda been averse to physical contact for most of my life. Bad experiences I can tell you about some other time, I enjoy your hugs and little gestures but don’t feel bad if I ask you to stop sometime. I can only handle so much at once.”
“I understand, let me know if you’re ever uncomfortable.” I flicked my ears in acknowledgment and grabbed my bag. “We should probably get on to that meeting huh?”
“Yeah, guess we got a little distracted there. This morning has already been a lot, I wonder if Garret will have work for us right away?” Jon stood slowly so as not to anger his blood pressure and sighed loudly.
I tentatively grabbed his hand, looking up at him for his ok. He squeezed my paw in return as we walked out the door. Most folk on the station were still asleep, I found the empty halls a bit unnerving, but my human looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him out here.
Jon was panting lightly as we arrived in the cafeteria. Sure enough Garret was sitting at the table, right on time.
“Jon, Selni. I hope you two had a good night, you don’t look very well rested.” The soldier gestured for us to sit and slid a couple cups of coffee over to us. “So, any questions, comments, concerns?”
Jon pulled the contract out of his bag, placing it on the table and pointing to a specific line. “It says here that we’ll be responsible for supporting troops in a non-combat capacity. What does that mean exactly?” Jon sat up straight and put on a professional attitude I hadn’t seen from him before.
“It means that in the event of a military operation you, among others, will be expected to transport supplies and personnel to and from secured landing sites. It does not mean we will send you into fire.” Garret explained.
“Ok that’s what I expected. My only other request is that Selni be penciled in. He’s a medical professional and will no doubt be able to help, also he’s my exchange partner and friend so anywhere I go he’ll be there too.” Jon folded his hands together maintaining his professional attitude as he made his request.
“I see no problem with that, it’ll be a good opportunity for the exchange program to see how you work together. I can have an amended contract ready in an hour or so then we can meet up again.” Garret slid the contract over and tucked it in his bag. “Oh, before I forget I’ll send you the manual for the transport craft you’ll be piloting. It’s similar to what you’re used to, but you should still read up.”
“Oh no worries, I’m a sucker for ships. I’ll enjoy getting to know this new vessel.” My human pulled out his holopad, a gleam in his eye as the file came across. “Thanks for the opportunity, I’m looking forward to flying again.”
Our UN contact bid us farewell before heading off to his other business.
Jon visibly deflated once Garret was out of sight. “Well, there we go.” He sighed, placing the holopad on the table and opening the manual. “Wana go over this together? Learn how to fix up the innards of a ship?”
“Why did you have to say it like that?” I chuckled, feigning disgust. “It’ll be a fun thing to occupy us until Garret calls at least.” I leaned in and looked at the screen as Jon scrolled through it, gushing about technical details I didn’t fully understand.
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