I’m sorry in advance, this is going to be a bit of a long one!
I feel like I’m at my wits ends. A month ago I got sick with some kind of viral infection. I tested negative for covid doing rapid tests probably 4 times over a few days. I had fever, chills, sore throat, congestion, cough and lost my taste and smell for about 5 days (which has never happened to me when sick) about a week after first contracting whatever it was I had. I got put on prednisolone (corticosteroid) after freaking out about my loss of smell and taste as my doctor said this would help speed up the recovery and reduce the congestion. I then ended up having to go on cephalexin for a bacterial skin infection around my nose after all the blowing of my nose/bacteria getting in the broken skin on my nose (gross…I know).
Just as I started to feel like I could go back to work and my symptoms were easing aside from a bit of congestion still and my nose healing, I began to notice a scratchy, gritty, foreign body feeling in both of my eyes. As I’ve experienced MGD before (or what I’ve been told is MGD), usually just a tiny pimple-looking blocked gland on my lash line that scratches the surface of my eye, I assumed it was this and started using warm compresses/massaging the lids. This usually makes it go away within a few days.
However, I soon realised that I couldn’t actually see any pimple-like blocked meibomian glands and several days had passed and it wasn’t getting any better. Weird, I thought. It began to really bother me at work and make it hard to focus. I also noticed this feeling wasn’t specific to one spot like it usually would be with a blocked gland, this feeling felt like scratching and sand all over my eyes. They were also more bloodshot than usual. Nothing crazy like conjunctivitis, but I could notice the difference. At this point I’d been back at work about 4 days, and by the Thursday of that week it was bothering me significantly.
On the Saturday I went to my local optometrist, who said maybe my eyes were a little dry or I wasn’t blinking fully, but couldn’t really offer much assistance other than assuring me there was nothing in my eye, my glands didn’t appear blocked and suggested I use lubricating drops (which I had already started a few days prior). He also said it was not conjunctivitis. I went away feeling stressed and not very hopeful.
I went back to work the next week and was struggling so much. I even started noticing I was getting a pressure or squeezing feeling in my eyes and across the middle of my eyes that would get worse throughout the day. It would turn into a headache and a feeling like someone had a rubber band squeezing around my eyes. I thought surely this is related to whatever is irritating my eyes. I organised to get into an ophthalmologist that Wednesday, with a referral from the optometrist I had seen on the previous Saturday.
I honestly didn’t have the best experience with the ophthalmologist. I really hoped she would be thorough and answer all of my questions, because this was causing me to break down crying at work almost every day and not have any motivation to do anything other than the basic necessary tasks. She seemed like she almost wanted to get rid of me. Either way, she had a quick look through the social devices and said “your eyes look dry”. She told me treat taking cationorm (a lubricating eye drop she said was better than just systane or hyloforte) and to use lid wipes. She said if I was still struggling in 2 months she would refer me to a dry eye specialist. I thought “god, there’s no way I can cope with this for two months” especially when going to work, and doing basic tasks was hard and getting me down so much.
I tried cationorm drops and did the lid wipes and temporarily stopped the warm compresses as I was worried they had irritated my eyes. Days passed, and another weekend passed and I still felt awful. If anything, it just felt like it was getting worse. Sometimes I would notice the scratchy feeling would be right where the most veins were in my eyes, as if that part of my eye was really irritated. But this would also change and the location of the irritation would constantly be changing.
The next week came (the week we just had) and the ophthalmologist I had initially tried to get into called with a cancellation and asked if I wanted to come in. In between this and the previous ophthalmologist, I had managed to make an appointment with a dry eye specialist because I was struggling so much and wanted even some form of relief. Between the tightness in my eyes, the scratchy eyes and the headaches, everything felt unbearable.
I ended up going to this other ophthalmologist on Tuesday, who is a bit older with maybe more experience, and was also very reputable. She told me my eyes didn’t appear dry (that being said, I had been using lubricating drops for maybe a week or more). She said she thought the cause was blepharitis. She said the front of my eyes (the surface) were also inflamed as well as the inside of the lids. She told me to use a different lid wipe and prescribed me a steroid eye drop (fluorometholone or FML). She felt quite certain this was was the cause of the irritation. Part of me was relieved to have maybe found something that would relieve/stop the flare up (I know it’s not something that can be cured as such). But part of me also felt concerned that maybe neither of them were right if it wasn’t that easy to determine in the first place and they both thought it was something different. The second ophthalmologist did say dry eye could go hand in hand with blepharitis, but she didn’t say that’s what was causing the irritation.
I immediately went and bought the fluorometholone and started it that night. My ophthalmologist has instructed me to put in one drop in each eye 3 times a day for 2 weeks. I also started using Optisoothe lid wipes that have tea tree in them. Additionally, I bought anti dandruff shampoo just to rule that out too, may as well. She said to come back in 3-4 weeks to see how I was going. This worried me because once again I thought “I don’t know how I’ll deal with this for any longer”, but was hopeful the steroid eye drops would ease the feeling and reduce the inflammation.
I’ve now been using the fluorometholone for 3 days, and have not noticed any improvement. A lot of sources online say there should be even a little improvement in the first couple of days. I’m obviously going to continue with the drops, but I’m so concerned that this is going to last a long time, or weeks more.
I’m frustrated and feeling uncertain that maybe it’s not blepharitis OR dry eye, and maybe it’s something caused by my sickness, whether it was somehow covid that was undetected by the tests or just a bad virus. It seems weird to me that straight after I was sick and while I was still recovering, that’s when the eye irritation started. It’s probably late in the story to mention this, but I have still had this weird smell in my nose for about the past 2 or so weeks, which I assume is from being sick and due to my sinuses? This all makes me wonder if maybe it’s some kind of inflammatory response from my body. I just wish I could get some kind of definitive answer and a treatment that would give me some relief.
It’s getting me down so so much, and I’m feeling more anxious and more depressed by the day. I’m canceling going to things, not wanting to leave the house because I feel so irritated, and barely managing to get through a day at work. I feel like my body is almost attacking itself in a way. I think I’m so stressed about this that not even a month later I feel like I’m getting sick again (sore/scratchy throat today).
Does anyone have any similar experiences/success stories/advice? Not sure if it matters at all but I am a female early-mid 20s for reference. If you read all the way to the end I appreciate you!

I’m sorry in advance, this is going to be a bit of a long one!
I feel like I’m at my wits ends. A month ago I got sick with some kind of viral infection. I tested negative for covid doing rapid tests probably 4 times over a few days. I had fever, chills, sore throat, congestion, cough and lost my taste and smell for about 5 days (which has never happened to me when sick) about a week after first contracting whatever it was I had. I got put on prednisolone (corticosteroid) after freaking out about my loss of smell and taste as my doctor said this would help speed up the recovery and reduce the congestion. I then ended up having to go on cephalexin for a bacterial skin infection around my nose after all the blowing of my nose/bacteria getting in the broken skin on my nose (gross…I know).
Just as I started to feel like I could go back to work and my symptoms were easing aside from a bit of congestion still and my nose healing, I began to notice a scratchy, gritty, foreign body feeling in both of my eyes. As I’ve experienced MGD before (or what I’ve been told is MGD), usually just a tiny pimple-looking blocked gland on my lash line that scratches the surface of my eye, I assumed it was this and started using warm compresses/massaging the lids. This usually makes it go away within a few days.
However, I soon realised that I couldn’t actually see any pimple-like blocked meibomian glands and several days had passed and it wasn’t getting any better. Weird, I thought. It began to really bother me at work and make it hard to focus. I also noticed this feeling wasn’t specific to one spot like it usually would be with a blocked gland, this feeling felt like scratching and sand all over my eyes. They were also more bloodshot than usual. Nothing crazy like conjunctivitis, but I could notice the difference. At this point I’d been back at work about 4 days, and by the Thursday of that week it was bothering me significantly.
On the Saturday I went to my local optometrist, who said maybe my eyes were a little dry or I wasn’t blinking fully, but couldn’t really offer much assistance other than assuring me there was nothing in my eye, my glands didn’t appear blocked and suggested I use lubricating drops (which I had already started a few days prior). He also said it was not conjunctivitis. I went away feeling stressed and not very hopeful.
I went back to work the next week and was struggling so much. I even started noticing I was getting a pressure or squeezing feeling in my eyes and across the middle of my eyes that would get worse throughout the day. It would turn into a headache and a feeling like someone had a rubber band squeezing around my eyes. I thought surely this is related to whatever is irritating my eyes. I organised to get into an ophthalmologist that Wednesday, with a referral from the optometrist I had seen on the previous Saturday.
I honestly didn’t have the best experience with the ophthalmologist. I really hoped she would be thorough and answer all of my questions, because this was causing me to break down crying at work almost every day and not have any motivation to do anything other than the basic necessary tasks. She seemed like she almost wanted to get rid of me. Either way, she had a quick look through the social devices and said “your eyes look dry”. She told me treat taking cationorm (a lubricating eye drop she said was better than just systane or hyloforte) and to use lid wipes. She said if I was still struggling in 2 months she would refer me to a dry eye specialist. I thought “god, there’s no way I can cope with this for two months” especially when going to work, and doing basic tasks was hard and getting me down so much.
I tried cationorm drops and did the lid wipes and temporarily stopped the warm compresses as I was worried they had irritated my eyes. Days passed, and another weekend passed and I still felt awful. If anything, it just felt like it was getting worse. Sometimes I would notice the scratchy feeling would be right where the most veins were in my eyes, as if that part of my eye was really irritated. But this would also change and the location of the irritation would constantly be changing.
The next week came (the week we just had) and the ophthalmologist I had initially tried to get into called with a cancellation and asked if I wanted to come in. In between this and the previous ophthalmologist, I had managed to make an appointment with a dry eye specialist because I was struggling so much and wanted even some form of relief. Between the tightness in my eyes, the scratchy eyes and the headaches, everything felt unbearable.
I ended up going to this other ophthalmologist on Tuesday, who is a bit older with maybe more experience, and was also very reputable. She told me my eyes didn’t appear dry (that being said, I had been using lubricating drops for maybe a week or more). She said she thought the cause was blepharitis. She said the front of my eyes (the surface) were also inflamed as well as the inside of the lids. She told me to use a different lid wipe and prescribed me a steroid eye drop (fluorometholone or FML). She felt quite certain this was was the cause of the irritation. Part of me was relieved to have maybe found something that would relieve/stop the flare up (I know it’s not something that can be cured as such). But part of me also felt concerned that maybe neither of them were right if it wasn’t that easy to determine in the first place and they both thought it was something different. The second ophthalmologist did say dry eye could go hand in hand with blepharitis, but she didn’t say that’s what was causing the irritation.
I immediately went and bought the fluorometholone and started it that night. My ophthalmologist has instructed me to put in one drop in each eye 3 times a day for 2 weeks. I also started using Optisoothe lid wipes that have tea tree in them. Additionally, I bought anti dandruff shampoo just to rule that out too, may as well. She said to come back in 3-4 weeks to see how I was going. This worried me because once again I thought “I don’t know how I’ll deal with this for any longer”, but was hopeful the steroid eye drops would ease the feeling and reduce the inflammation.
I’ve now been using the fluorometholone for 3 days, and have not noticed any improvement. A lot of sources online say there should be even a little improvement in the first couple of days. I’m obviously going to continue with the drops, but I’m so concerned that this is going to last a long time, or weeks more.
I’m frustrated and feeling uncertain that maybe it’s not blepharitis OR dry eye, and maybe it’s something caused by my sickness, whether it was somehow covid that was undetected by the tests or just a bad virus. It seems weird to me that straight after I was sick and while I was still recovering, that’s when the eye irritation started. It’s probably late in the story to mention this, but I have still had this weird smell in my nose for about the past 2 or so weeks, which I assume is from being sick and due to my sinuses? This all makes me wonder if maybe it’s some kind of inflammatory response from my body. I just wish I could get some kind of definitive answer and a treatment that would give me some relief.
It’s getting me down so so much, and I’m feeling more anxious and more depressed by the day. I’m canceling going to things, not wanting to leave the house because I feel so irritated, and barely managing to get through a day at work. I feel like my body is almost attacking itself in a way. I think I’m so stressed about this that not even a month later I feel like I’m getting sick again (sore/scratchy throat today).
Does anyone have any similar experiences/success stories/advice? Not sure if it matters at all but I am a female early-mid 20s for reference. If you read all the way to the end I appreciate you!

Hi everyone,
I tested positive for Covid just over 2 weeks ago and the only symptoms I experienced were a scratchy throat, body aches, and fatigue which all subsided within 48 hours. I thought I had gotten pretty lucky compared to most people’s experiences, but today I woke up with another scratchy/sore throat and feeling very tired again. What are the odds my symptoms are relapsing from the same Covid infection, or is it likely a whole new virus? Would doing another Covid test indicate whether I have long covid? Thanks in advance for any input!

I had never had a cat in my life (54M) and one year ago my son rescued this beautiful 2yo female calico cat, and named her Ellie. She's the light of my life, and everyone in my home adores her. However, in this first year with her sometimes I felt like she was bored, and many articles and videos recommended having a second cat to accompany each other.
That's why, in the first anniversary with my lovely girl Ellie, I decided to stop by the shelter "just to look".
And there she was, this sweet and adorable 4yo calico female. I asked to meet her and she came to me without fear or hesitations, and allowed me to lift her and pet her. I immediately fell in love with and adopted her. I named her Abby.
While checking Abby's history in the paperwork from the shelter, I found out she was brought in by her previous owner to be euthanized because she was too "bitey and scratchy". The vet at the shelter determined she didn't show any bad behaviors, and on the contrary she was so sweet and demanding of attention, that denied putting her to sleep. And 3 days later I found her.
I brought her home and Ellie didn’t approve Abby at all, hissing and growling to her, but never physically attacking her. Abby hid under the sofa and I laid down next to her to confort her, and that first night she came out from hiding and slept in my bed.
Things started to look promising with Ellie, who despite still growling and hissing, allowed Abby to get closer.
But on the third day, a Saturday, Abby started sneezing sporadically. On Sunday the sneezing became more frequent and violent, specially every time she moved.
Comes Monday and I took her to the vet clinic. They ran blood analysis, x-rays and a PCR test. Abby had fever so they put her on IV hydration and gave her pain medicine. The blood analysis and the x-rays didn’t show anything bad, but they told me the PCR test's results would take 2 days. They injected her antibiotics and steroids, and released her for me to take home. This visit to the vet ended up costing me over $800. They told to keep an eye on her and check her temp.
She's been having outbursts of sneezing at all times, and the poor thing rubs her legs on her nose, like if it's itching. I've done all my best to keep her as comfortable as possible, without forgetting Ellie.
Then today I got a call from the vet's office telling me that the PCR test threw out that Abby had a Feline Herpevirus infection. They told me I had to keep both cats separated for 2 weeks, and stop by tomorrow to get a medicine to give her. Now I fear for Ellie, because I googled it and FHV is highly contagious and, not knowing it, I've been a bit careless in keeping Ellie and Abby separated. In fact, we had made great progress because Ellie is no longer hissing and growling and now lets Abby to get closer, within a 2 feet distance.
A friend told me that I should return Abby to the shelter, but I love her and I don't have the heart to do it. When they finally gave her to me at the shelter, I promised her that she'll be at her forever home, that I'd love her, and I'd never give up on her.
I feel guilt because Ellie may get infected and sick too, but I can't break my promise to Abby of loving and caring her for the rest of her life.
I've read a lot about FHV, and it's said that it is incurable. Cats with the virus can have sporadic flare-ups, but it's said that by managing stressors, and remaining current on vaccines, a pet infected with feline herpes can live a normal lifespan.
So that's why I'm asking you my fellow cat parent, did I make the right decision of keeping Abby despite she could make Ellie sick?
Please give me your advice. As I said above, these two are the first pets I have ever had in my life, and I don't know what to do.
Tl;dr;: rescued a second cat as companion to my first rescued cat, but a few days later she was diagnosed FHV and now I fear for the health of my first. Did I make the right decision by keeping her regarless?

Tested positive for the first time Wed. No clue where i got it or when i was exposed. It started as me feeling tired and chilled. Not unusual as I get this from GERD too. But then the fever eyes and scratchy throat kicked in i knew somethingwas up. It was 80 degrees and I was wearing a coat and heater in car. I had an inkling this was not the usual and it wasn't. Tested positive and In a matter of hours fever went from running 99°to 102°. No loss of smell or taste. Called Dr and got plaxlovid Rx but pharmacy took their sweet time (2days) to fill so I was on my own till they filled it. Fever came and went and I was in bed and I had absolutely no energy. Wasn't hungry but I kept hydration up. I felt better when i was chilled which was interesting. I have asthma so I was worried about that of course this leading to pneumonia. Looked up my meds to make sure they don't conflict with plaxlovid and one did so I had to wait another day to make sure it was out of my system. Read here as much as I could about plaxflovid and my only real issue is the taste which others describe as metallic, to me it's bitter tasting but it's not so bad as others made it out and I'm not stopping it. A bit of nausea and some flavor changes but I knew what it was so I didn't get to concerned. So far, I'm okay, I get tired really easy, hot and sweaty but the alternative is worse so i just don't get to worried about it. Got me a oximeter to check 02 just to be safe. So far that's the story. Will edit was it progresses.
Edit 5/12/2024- put the new filters in hvac. Temps rising and I at this time need it cooler. Got the 1900 to trap viruses. I'm at the other end of a long hall where the intake is but just in case I had hubby change them.

My husband and I have been in the same house since he started sneezing and coughing over 2 weeks ago. Both fully vaxxed/boosted, never had Covid, and weren't even thinking about it until cough worsened and he felt "sick". Dr suggested Covid test and he was + 2 days ago, started Paxlovid. No idea when he actually contracted the virus, but I've been exposed the whole time. So after 15 days of possible covid, we're staying in separate parts of the house (a little late?). Now I have a scratchy throat, headache, fatigue, and slight cough. Is this the inevitable beginning for me?

Okay, so I tested negative for all STDs, including HIV. I got tested because I had sex a month ago, and the symptoms showed up a month after, so I was freaking out. But it turns out an STD isn't causing my symptoms. So, what could it be? Also, I don't have any viruses or infections. Well, I don't have all the symptoms I had on April 30th; right now, I still have some and some new ones. At first, I had these red tiny dots on the roof of my mouth, one swollen tonsil, swollen lymph node, sneezing, and a mildly sore throat on one side. But now, I just have one swollen tonsil, swollen lymph node, sneezing, and a scratchy throat. Had symptoms for 9 days for the whole day. Could it possibly be allergies.

33F - sick with URI for ~9 days. Symptoms have changed over time. Started with a scratchy throat and cough. Turned into what I thought was viral pink eye. Eyes dried shut with goop every morning needing long compresses to be able to open them. 4yo had all the same symptoms. Assumed it was adenovirus since we had it before. Mine then turned into a severe sore throat on day 5.
Day 6 - saw a PA who told me it was bacterial pink eye and prescribed eye drops (moxyfloxacin). Confirmed conjunctival hemorrhage in right eye. For throat pain, told me to rinse with saltwater, use saline spray, and take cepacol as needed. Strep/covid negative. Throat pain got dramatically worse the night of day 6.
Day 7 - awful throat pain and swelling. Could not swallow food, drinks, etc. Had to spit saliva in the sink. Not sleeping from the extreme pain. Choked on a probiotic pill because my throat was refusing to swallow. Felt like bits of my throat skin were floating around when I tried to swallow water. Was using Advil for pain but with 6 pill max it wasn’t really helping for long periods.
Day 8 - Had telehealth with another PA. Explained how terrible the pain was and that I was covid and strep negative. She prescribed a methylprednisolone dose pack for 6 days (taper). She said she was confident it would knock it out. She said if it wasn’t better by Thursday (Day 10), I should take a zpack. Due to my cdiff colonization she wanted to give it time to see if the steroid would work. I took the first steroid dose of 6 pills. Within 3 hours it took the edge off and I was able to take a nap. I was still using pain reliever (liquid Tylenol now due to pill swallowing trouble previously mentioned due to the swelling).
Day 9(today) I took the second dose of 5 pills. It helped a bit but the sore throat has seemingly returned today and has worsened as the day has gone on. It’s not so severe that I can’t eat or drink but it is very painful. I have not taken any liquid Tylenol since 7am and it’s currently almost 9pm so it could be in part due to that.
I notice some throat bumps but they aren’t white and don’t really look like strep pictures on google. I will post in the comments.
What should I do? Should I take the zpack or is this a normal bad virus like adenovirus? I am not used to this level of throat pain. It’s really bad and I just want to feel better. I worry that unnecessary use of antibiotics could result in a cdiff relapse due to being colonized. I also know there are risks to not treating a potential infection. I’m at a loss. Pain is also in my ears but when I went to the clinic on day 6 I was told they aren’t infected, they just have fluid.

24F, 115lb, 5’4”, non-smoker, no meds. Moderate sore throat began around Thursday as the only symptom. Between then and now, I’ve developed other symptoms such as low fever, dry cough, scratchy throat with hoarseness, nasal congestion, runny nose, and diarrhea. My symptoms felt worse this morning when I woke up (especially the congestion and the cough started to become more progressive) so I went to the doctor.
They performed a rapid streptococcus test and it came back positive for Strep Throat despite my other “non-strep symptoms” listed above. I’ve also had my tonsils removed previously. The doctor said that the cough and nasal congestion is stimming from my post-nasal drip. What could this mean?
Is it possible that I have another cold, upper respiratory virus, flu, or sinus infection along with Strep Throat at the same time? Or is the Strep Throat test incorrect (though I read it has a 95-98% accuracy rate.) I’ve been prescribed antibiotics for the Strep, but will this also help with the other symptoms I’m experiencing, assuming it may be bacterial?

Viral fever symptoms
Viral fever, also known as acute febrile illness, is a condition characterized by an increase in body temperature due to an infection by a virus. It is a common ailment and can be caused by a variety of viral agents.

Symptoms of Viral Fever:

Fever: This is the primary symptom. The body temperature rises above the normal range (98.6°F or 37°C) due to the body’s immune response to the viral infection. Headache: Many individuals with viral fever experience headaches, which can range from mild to severe. viral fever symptoms Fatigue and Weakness: The immune system works hard to fight off the virus, which can lead to feelings of tiredness and weakness. Muscle and Joint Pain: Aches in the muscles and joints are common during a viral fever. Sore Throat: Some viral infections can lead to a sore or scratchy throat. viral fever symptoms Cough and Cold Symptoms: Respiratory viruses often cause symptoms like coughing, sneezing, runny nose, and congestion. Nausea and Vomiting: In some cases, especially with certain viruses, gastrointestinal symptoms like nausea and vomiting may occur. viral fever symptoms Skin Rash: Some viral infections can lead to a rash or red spots on the skin. Loss of Appetite: Many people with viral fever experience a decreased desire to eat. viral fever symptoms

Causes of Viral Fever:

Viral fevers are caused by a varied range of viruses. Common culprits include:
Influenza Viruses (Flu): Influenza A, B, and C viruses are responsible for seasonal flu outbreaks. Rhinovirus: Causes the common cold. Coronaviruses: Some strains can cause mild to severe respiratory illnesses. viral fever symptoms Dengue Virus: Transmitted by mosquitoes, causing dengue fever. Chikungunya Virus: Also transmitted by mosquitoes, causing chikungunya fever. Ebola Virus: Causes severe and often fatal hemorrhagic fever. viral fever symptoms Zika Virus: Transmitted through mosquitoes and can lead to Zika fever.

Diagnosis of Viral Fever:

Physical Examination: The doctor will perform a thorough physical examination, looking for signs of infection like fever, swollen lymph nodes, and other specific symptoms. Medical History: Information about recent travel, exposure to sick individuals, and any other relevant history will be discussed. viral fever symptoms Blood Tests: Blood tests may be conducted to identify the specific virus causing the fever. These tests can include: Complete Blood Count (CBC): This provides information about the number and types of blood cells. A higher white blood cell count may indicate an infection. viral fever symptoms Viral Antigen or Antibody Tests: These tests look for specific proteins (antigens) or antibodies produced by the immune system in response to the virus. Polymerase Chain Reaction (PCR) Test: This molecular test can detect the genetic material of the virus in a sample. Chest X-ray or other Imaging: If a respiratory virus is suspected, imaging may be done to check for signs of lung infection. viral fever symptoms Other Tests: Depending on the suspected virus, additional tests may be ordered.
Treatment of Viral fever:-
Rest: Get plenty of rest to allow your body’s immune system to fight off the infection.
Hydration: Drink plenty of fluids like water, herbal teas, electrolyte-rich drinks, and clear broths to stay hydrated. This helps replace fluids lost due to fever, sweating, and potential vomiting or diarrhea.
Fever-Reducing Medications: Over-the-counter medications like acetaminophen (Tylenol) or ibuprofen (Advil, Motrin) can be used to reduce fever and alleviate pain.
Follow dosage instructions carefully and consult a healthcare professional if you have specific concerns or are taking other medications.
Warm Baths or Compresses: A warm bath or a cool compress on the forehead or back of the neck can help lower body temperature and provide relief from fever. viral fever symptoms
Gargling with Warm Salt Water: This can help soothe a sore throat, a common symptom of many viral infections.
Humidifier: If you have congestion, using a humidifier can help ease breathing by adding moisture to the air. viral fever symptoms
Avoid Overexertion: Avoid strenuous activities, as this can put additional strain on your body. Allow it to focus on fighting the infection.
Eat Nutritious Foods: Even if you don’t have much appetite, try to consume easily digestible, nutrient-rich foods like soups, fruits, and vegetables.
Avoid Caffeine and Alcohol: These can lead to dehydration, which is something you want to avoid when you’re already battling a fever. viral fever symptoms
Follow the Healthcare Provider’s Advice: If you have any underlying health conditions or if the fever persists for an extended period, consult a healthcare provider. They may recommend specific treatments or antiviral medications depending on the type of virus causing the infection.
Isolation: If your fever is due to a contagious virus (like influenza or COVID-19), it’s important to isolate yourself to prevent spreading it to others. viral fever symptoms
Remember, it’s crucial to consult a healthcare professional for advice and treatment specific to your situation. Pathology labs in wakad. If your symptoms worsen or if you have difficulty breathing, chest pain, confusion, or other severe symptoms, seek immediate medical attention.

The results are in for Match 15. The winner is…
For Kid Savage, sound around him had begun to dull.
He didn’t hear Moony’s excited chatter beside him, telling him how fine this all was.
He didn’t hear the gunshots firing from just nearby.
He didn’t even hear his own breath, or the heart pounding in his ears.
No, he didn’t hear a thing. All of his senses had faded, as if to focus in completely on the bodies hanging from the power lines. There were more than just the one Moony had thrown, ones he hadn’t noticed until now, all strung up and hanging limp.
His nausea waned.
Suddenly, something broke through that impenetrable silence. Footsteps. Heavy, slow footfalls, just behind him.
The events of that night were already playing back in his head. He knew this part. The end. When he had stared down death, and when slowly, surely, someone else was there. Was he imagining it?
“Been a while. I figured I might see something like this from you.”
No, he was not. That was the voice from back then - the voice that had saved his life. He turned, broken out of his trance, to face Rasna Kaliya. Just like that night. As if he were on a loop.
“Welcome to the land of kings. You want to be a king, kid? You want power? Here it is.”
“Y-You...”
“I heard gunshots.” The ex-leader of Vulture stretched her arms above her head, staring down at the hanging corpses. “And... My favorite food truck was closed.”
“Ahaha, sorry about that!” Moony giggled, placing her hands on Kid’s shoulders, ignoring the way that he jolted at the touch. “As you can see, we were a little preoccupied~! Funky Kitchen’ll be open tomorrow!”
“Hmm.” Rasna didn’t look at her. Kid glanced between them - did Moony know this woman? He’d have to get her to explain later.
“Y’know, we’re actually just about to go get dinner with some, er... Friends. Wanna come?”
“No thanks.” Rasna spun on her heel, making her way back to the building’s stairwell. “I think I’ve seen enough. All four of you... Hah. Nevermind.”
As she left, Moony had the vaguest feeling that she had done something wrong—but it faded in an instant, washed away with blood. That’s right! It’s time for free food!

It's a tie!? With a scores of 75!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Honeydew Blue and Ouroboros	14 (5+0.5+2) - 16 (6+0.5+2)	It was neck and neck the whole way through!
Quality	Moonchild "Moony" Lamoreaux and Kid Savage	24 (8 8 8) - 23 (7 8 8)	Reasoning
JoJolity	Moonchild "Moony" Lamoreaux and Kid Savage	27 (8 9 10) - 26 (8 9 9)	Reasoning
Conduct	Tie	10-10	Nothing to report!

Kid Savage thought to himself that this may be the worst thing that had ever happened to him. No, scratch that. Worse things had definitely happened. The worst thing would be the Middleman, and the second worst would have to be the events of earlier tonight. This was the third worst moment in his life, then.
“Are you listening, boy?” Ouroboros’s arm landed over his shoulders, shaking him around a bit. “I’m telling you, this story’s a classic! Not many chances to hear tales all the way from Ancient Greece, no?”
He really, really wished he was sitting next to Moony right now. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going wrong with her, but at least she wouldn’t have been so... Like this. They were the only customers in the diner Ouroboros had chosen, the rest probably scared away. He did not like this arrangement. It didn’t look like Moony did, either. She’d had the bad luck of being seated next to one Honeydew Blue, who’d taken a particular interest in the jacket Moony was wearing.
“Uhm...” Moony looked incredibly uncomfortable—it was the most negative emotion Kid had seen from her all night. “Miss, w-would you, er, stop sniffing that? Y-You got the point across the first time...”
Honeydew ignored her, and had now switched back to staring way too hard at Kid. She was still wearing his jacket, for fuck’s sake!
“Anyway, anyway!” Ouro continued his rant, grinning all the while. “Our story begins back in, er, when was it...”
Maybe this was worse than earlier tonight, actually, thought Kid, who wished with all of his heart he had taken the outer seat in the booth.
Looking for something more relaxing? How about a game of golf?
(Shoutouts to u/DSOddish for the match concept!)
Scenario: Port Konwar — 1:36AM
Port Konwar, the logistics and transport center of Rākinnagarh: while a large boon to the city’s economy thanks to the trade and industry the area provided, the port itself does not find as much money poured into supporting it as is exchanged within it to the city at large or its trade partners—and what does find its way to the section of the city does little to help poverty levels similar to that in the neighboring Bedtown.
However, while Bedtown holds little economic value beyond the factories that still have life left in them, Port Konwar is the subject of much more economic interest and as such the city has made sure the area is better policed—the military presence in the area also served to reduce the crime rate in public, but behind closed doors and in dark alleyways it still persists.
The docks were a microcosm of all of this: ships came and went with goods for trade, the area built up exactly as needed and not much more, all built to last in utilitarian fashion. An officer walked up to one of the incoming ships as the small crew started to unload their cargo, coming to a halt as he waited for one of the men to toss him his bribe so he could pretend the smuggling they were partaking in never happened—the exchange shadowed by the larger vessel that docked in to another part of the docks to begin loading up with the contents of the next train to arrive at the nearby station.
A series of light, yet hurried steps slapped against the concrete path alongside the docks. Two shadows clung to the nearest brick wall, one lithe and tall, followed by a deceptively average build. The tall one shimmied against the wall, her eyes striking various spots around her surroundings. As another set of steps approached, the figure froze flat, gripping the other one’s shoulder to pull her back. Sweat beaded down her forehead as two men in matching overalls walked past, a sleeping tiger embroidered on their backs. She swallowed a bit of air, hoping desperately that not a single bead of sweat would dare drip off of her face. Her light-haired partner held her breath, trying her best not to move an inch, a monumental task, to be sure.
Once the guards had moved well past the wall, Lucil Caravan gripped her knees as she gasped for air. She didn’t know how long she had been holding it for, but it must’ve been for an eternity, given how sweet the sensation of breathing felt to her at that moment. She looked up to her partner, who had just finished unwrapping a lollipop.
“Hey, Brighid?” Lucil wheezed. Brighid didn’t respond, as she was immediately turned around, peering behind the wall. She must not have heard her.
“Hey,” she said once more. “What are we doing here, again?”
“Weren’t you paying attention, silly?” a voice chimed from inside Lucil’s pocket, causing her to jump a centimeter off the ground. Gripping her heart, Lucil reached into the pocket, pulling out her burner phone. The small, green LED screen illuminated the lower part of her face, which frowned at the sight of a little jumping envelope stuttering across the screen, a white “1” surrounded by a red square. With a sigh, she flipped open the phone, revealing a feminine form on the screen inside. She twirled her purple hair between her fingers while waving a friendly greeting.
“Can you blame a girl for being distracted?” Lucil said as a matter of fact. “We both know Brighid can get a heavy with the details. Hard to keep them all straight.” She shot a look over to the lawyer, who was still taking note of the scenery behind them, jotting something down furiously in her notepad. “Besides, her energy lately has been throwing me for a loop.” Lucil turned back to her phone. “Don’t you find this all a little weird?”
A chuckle sparked out of the phone, its staccato rhythm causing Lucil to wince. “Well, I suppose I can’t blame you,” Paranoia said with an incredibly sad face. “Humans can only process so much information at a time. You should be careful with how much you give them,” she sang, as she made a grand effort to drag the ‘air’ in front of her into herself. “Give them too much…” her form jittered back and forth, with what looked like smoke pouring out of her ears. Once the image stabilized, she wore a big smile, her head tilted slightly askew. “...and their brains will turn into mush!”
Lucil rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Now, are you going to tell me what we’re doing here, or what?”
Paranoia crossed her arms, resting her chin on her left hand. “That dep~~ends.”
“-On?”
Paranoia flickered once more, revealing her to be lying down, seemingly in midair, kicking her legs. “We haven’t really gotten to know each other, have we? We work at the same place, greet the same faces.” A puzzled look plastered itself onto the virus. “But I don’t know a thing about you!”
Lucil looked up from her phone, out into the dimly lit street they had just come from. “Is this really the time?”
“How do you expect me to share such vital information with a stranger?” Paranoia pouted. “After all, you could jeopardize the whole mission…”
Lucil glanced over to Brighid, who still had not moved, and then back to Paranoia with a heavy sigh. They were going to be here a while. “Fine, what do you want to know?”
The sound of lead scratching paper was barely audible, an impressive feat given that Brighid Rhodes was vigorously filling her notepad with information. A combination of current observations mixed with crude maps of what looked to be hallways stretched along the pages, her eyes fixed in a forward-facing axis between the pad and the office building ahead of her. The sign above the entrance matched the uniforms of the workers that nearly passed them by. She had watched them enter the premises, and they still hadn’t left. It was odd for employees to be coming in to work this late at night. Though, as she knew well enough, this was nothing new for the Ragged Tiger Shipping Company.
Memories of just a couple nights before ebbed into her head, causing her pencil to slow to a crawl. Images of late night workers, packing crates with tired eyes, tight, concrete hallways with far too many corners, gunshots whizzing past her head. She crunched her lollipop as she grit her teeth. Her investigation had not gone quite the way she had wanted it to, no thanks to her carelessness. She could have risked everything, scraping barely by through luck’s good graces.
She looked down back at her notes, where she had scrawled three more bits of information onto the page. Names: “Le Bon”, “A. Rex”, and “Notorious”, each one circled incessantly, something Brighid figured she was doing unconsciously. Her stoicism cracked for a second, letting the smallest of smiles shine through. She didn’t leave empty handed, however. Despite the odds, she had gotten these names, pried them from fate’s own fickle hands. It was more than she had gotten in years, something she was quite enthusiastic about. However, she still only had about 3 small pieces of this 1000-piece puzzle. Fortunately, she knew just where to find the remaining 997.
“Do you like music?”
“Uh, yeah. I’d say so.”
The virus’ eyes lit up. “Oh really? What kind of music do you like best? I’ve been getting into hyperpop lately, myself.”
“Yeah? Well, I guess I’m more into heavier sounds,” Lucil shrugged. “A little bit of grindcore, some rock, mainly anything with a grungey sound to it.”
Paranoia contemplated this response, pacing back and forth inside the screen. Suddenly, a lightbulb flashed over her head, one a little too round, a bit too bright. “Oh, what a silly question to ask,” she replied. “I suppose I should’ve known, right? You’re in a band, aren’t you?”
“-what?” All the color left Lucil’s face. What did she say? She found herself short of breath again. At the same time, she felt her heartbeat whir from a steady rhythm to a faster beat, as if it was getting ready for a race.
“W-what are you… talking abou-?” is about all she could get out before becoming a statue. Her eyes were affixed to the small screen, a grainy picture of some sort of trio. She recognized them, of course. The girl in the middle was her girlfriend, Agata. The guy on her left was a part of her band. The girl on the left. She dug her fingernails into her palms. That woman was incredibly familiar, a face she’d recognize anywhere. She looked a bit different, of course. Maybe a bit more mature? It could’ve been the lighting. But the tag under her picture labeled: “Lucil”, left nothing to speculation.
Paranoia tilted her head, a look of intense curiosity stuck to her face. “This is you, right? Your band? You must remember, they only performed just a few nights ago.”
“Yep, that’s me,” Lucil spat out, swiftly clasping the phone shut. She could practically hear her heart pounding against her sternum. She was shaking, violently. Lucil’s eyes darted around her phone, unwilling to stare at it directly. Just what was the point of all that? What was Paranoia getting at? Lucil looked back over to Brighid, whose own statue-like movements brought her back to reality. She shook her head, taking a glance at her notebook, which the lawyer was absent-mindedly tapping with the pencil, rounding out the lead.
“Hey, Brighid,” Lucil called out, reaching a hand to her shoulder. She jolted upon contact, turning around with furrowed brows. “What?!”
“Oh, hey! Sorry about that.” Lucil held her hands up. “Just wanted to make sure you were-”
“I’m fine,” Brighid said, brushing her dark hair behind her ears. Her demeanor gradually dulled. “Are you ready to move?”
Lucil frowned. “I, uh, still don’t quite follow-”
“Of course we are!” a cheery voice chirped from the burner phone. Lucil had half a mind to chuck it. While she contemplated how much noise it would actually make, a porcelain hand shot out from the inside of the phone, followed by an arm. The top part of the flip phone lifted up ever so slightly as a small figure eked its way out of the screen. With the phone fully open, the figure fizzled right beside Lucil, as a full-sized Paranoia draped its arm around her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand straight up.
“After all, we’ve got a murder investigation on our hands. And we won’t find anything by just twiddling our thumbs!”
“CANNONBALL!”
SPLOOSH!
“Fuckin’ shit!”
“Ahahaha! Well, you’re the one who asked us along! You should have expected a splash zone!”
Nojus sat down, their chair audibly creaking under their weight as they grabbed a pole, fitting some bait onto it and casting the line. They didn’t seem to care about being similarly soaked to Raspberry, furiously shaking out his shirt.
“Is this normal for the two of you?” Raspberry harrumphed, watching Nojus’ husband swim to the middle of the river, then dive underneath.
“What? No! Normally he’d have tossed me in first.”
“...Dammit.” Raspberry sat down himself. “Didn’t take you for a fisher. Nikki would’a come along but she doesn’t like the thought of killing living things.”
“Haha! I’m not!” Nojus announced. “I have no idea what I’m doing here at all—ha!” They tugged on the rod. “Got a bite!” They stood up, nearly pitched out of their seat by the tugging. “It’s a big one!”
“Holy shit, we’ve only been here for a second. And I thought your husband would’ve already scared the shits away with his antics.”
The two watched, Nojus tugging on the line, watching as a large shape lumbered towards them…
“You seem distracted lately, Brighid,” Lucil noted, the group walking towards their target of the Ragged Tiger office.
“Yeah!” Paranoia grinned at the attorney. “Though I suppose this being personal might do that—though I have an idea that it might be something else on your mind.~”
Brighid sighed, turning towards the virus as they continued onwards. “I don’t know what else you’re convinced I’m thinking about, but sure. Go ahead.”
“That Texas kid! She’s been popping up in the news lately, and, well, she does sound a bit like what happened to y—”
“How’d you know about that?” Brighid whipped around to glare at Paranoia. She wasn’t exactly an open book when it came to her past, and she certainly wasn’t an open book around Paranoia. The girl in question simply giggled to herself.
“Texas... That’s Paris Aco’s kid, right?” Lucil spoke up before the tension between the two got anywhere bad. “Y’know the, uh, the one who died? That lady?”
“The very same.” Brighid exhaled. Paranoia was right; it was a situation that felt all too familiar to her. A child, wrapped up in the world of delinquents and ruffians, whose mother was taken all too early by something in the shadows she couldn’t hope to reach. It was pretty much exactly what happened to her, actually, so she was bound to have some sympathy about it. “Dunno how much I could do for her now, but...”
“But you’d like to do something, hmm~?”
“Yeah.” Brighid didn’t know why Paranoia took such an interest, but she didn’t question it. Maybe it was her way of ‘getting to know her’. “The last thing I want is to just be another adult pitying her. She doesn’t need that. Lord knows I didn’t.” She chuckles to herself, twirling a lollipop stick between her fingers. “Guess I gotta think on it.”
Lucil remembered the girl coming into the Gallery a few times—those bright strands of green were hard to miss. It’d been before Paris had died, of course. She hadn’t seen the girl since. But Texas had seemed to take a liking to the lawyer. Recent events must’ve been tearing her apart. Seeing someone dear to her suffering from such a loss... Having someone dear to her...
Lucil didn’t quite like how thinking about that made her feel.
“In any case.” Brighid’s expression returned to its usual coldness. “That’s not what we’re here for.”
Raspberry looked on with caution as Nojus reeled in their catch, the dark shape getting closer and closer to the surface…
…And then Nojus’ husband cleared the water, bleeding heavily from the hook in his mouth.
“YOOOOOOOO!” Nojus grabbed Raspberry, still tugging the man closer with their other hand. “Look! Look who I caught!”
“???????” Raspberry’s face was screwed up in utter confusion as Nojus continued the tug of war, until they’d caught their beau and pulled him up onto the dock by one foot. “Hey, uh, I have- let me remove the hook at leas-”
“I’ve got it!” Raspberry had the scissors torn out of his grip, with Nojus handing the scissors to their husband, letting him take out the hook himself.
“You aren’t gonna catch anything edible in there.” Nojus’ husband mentioned as he pulled the hook out. “Besides me~!” He pulled off a stupid pose, splayed out on the dock. “...The water quality’s god awful. It tastes like mining chemicals and fertilizer. Do you guys know what nitrogen tastes like? It sucks. Really bad.” He shook himself a bit.
“What the hell?” Raspberry grumbled. “Nikki said a few friends of hers had a great fishing spot a while back; things were great then!”
“Huh.” Nojus shrugged. “Oh well.”
“She wouldn’t have lied, either.”
“Yeah, sure. Industry, price of progress, all of that.” Nojus’ husband said. “I’m gonna swim some more. Hey, sweetie, why don’t you find some content to make? Meet up here in an hour? I want to raid a bunch of weird boats I found underwater.”
And with that, he dove back into the river, splashing the two once more.
“...So!” Nojus produced a phone, immediately starting up a stream. “Hey everybody! I’m here with my bro, Raspberry Beret, and we’re about to do some ~investigations~ for you all!”
“What?! We?” He shook his head. “What the hell do you mean we?”
“I mean—” Nojus pulled up next to Raspberry. “—we! I’ll need you to pull off some of the camera work bro, make it so I can edit an absolute hit. Also, I don’t know where to do investigations. They’re the hot new thing in the city, right? Poking around, seeing what you can find.” They flashed a grin at the screen. “And I bet with your local knowledge, you can pick out a place that has some juicy secrets to show to the masses, right~?”
“I—”
“You’re the one always talking about trying new things!” Nojus interrupted his protestations.
“Hey—”
“Nikki—”
“You can’t—”
Raspberry stared into the wall of sheer, ebullient readiness to start as many monetizable problems as possible, and broke against it. “...Fine.”
“...Nikki told me about seeing some shady nonsense happening in a dockyard; she thought it was some illegal goods and said that she was worried about it being in the city. She’d be fine with me investigating that. Probably.”
“Great! I’ll start up my intro; lead the way bro!”
Bridgid and Lucil both kept quiet, having reached the area of the docks where they could begin their investigation. They watched from behind a couple crates as a couple of guards moved past, patrolling the area and leaving an opening. Careful not to make a sound, the duo (and virus via phone) began to move—
A bombastic voice shout-whispered, audible even to them, “It’s right in-”
And then as it was cut off, a scratchy yell began behind them.
Brighid whipped around, catching Paranoia in the arms of ｢Outlando d’Amour｣, the girl hissing, face contorted in fury.
“It’s them! It’s them!!” She crowed.
“Who the hell are you screaming about?” Lucil hissed.
“That voice! They’re the livestreamer that beat up Carol! What are they doing out here?” Trapped in the Stand’s arms and unwilling to make a pincushion out of Brighid, she pulled out her phone, showing a screen.
“-at’s up, Nojus Nation?!” Nojus’ smile filled the stream. “We’re at the Ragged Tigers dock, looking at a lot of shady stuff! Well, I’m going to do my part, and do an ‘unboxing’ of all the contraband my good friend’s wife is worried about! Give it up for Nikki!”
Paranoia gnashed her teeth. “OoooOOOOH I want to stab and stab and stab them so~OOoO--OOO MUCH!!!”
Brighid pulled her into an alleyway, eyes wide. Their cover was almost certainly blown by now, and it would make finding anything of use just that much harder. “Lucil!” She hissed over Paranoia’s diatribe about the bloody vengeance and how long she’d e-stalked Nojus for.
“What the fuck’s up with her?” Lucil responded.
“I don’t know, but I think I can’t stop her- Paranoia. Paranoia! Listen to me!”
At an instant, Paranoia stopped, glancing up to Brighid with a cutesy expression. “Ye~s?”
“If I have you and Lucil uh….” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Beat those two to the punch, break all of the contraband in there you can find, will you promise to be stealthy about it?”
“Can I stab Nojus? Plea~se?” A knife had manifested in her hand.
Brighid dropped Paranoia like a sack of potatoes, the girl landing flawlessly. She looked helplessly to Lucil, who shrugged. “Only a little. I’ll slip in while the guards are busy.”
“O~kay!” And with that, Paranoia was off.
Lucil nodded to Brighid. “Best of luck.”
Brighid took a bit to steady herself. “Yeah. Best of luck.”
“Hey, Nojus.” Raspberry drawled, sliding a hand into his jacket.
“Huh?! Sorry, I’m just dealing with my chat! A ‘troll’ has been saying some very nasty things! Engagement is through the roof!”
“What troll- someone saying that they’d stab you?”
“Yes!”
“Holy fuck-”
Raspberry full-body tackled Nojus through the hole in the fence they’d made, a knife slicing right where Nojus’ throat was a moment before, impacting into a nearby crate.
“Hm.” Was Nojus’ only reply.
More notifications popped into their chat.
“Luci says I can’t kill you now…” Nojus read off, Raspberry watching the woman who threw the knife pop into the same mass of cargo they’d fallen into, followed by another. “...but I can totes upstage you. Lots of exclamation points.” They popped onto their side, lounging. “She almost killed me there. Good catch; we’ll see if she’s wrong, hm?”
“How the hell did you get a fucking psycho knife bitch on your ass, Nojus?”
“Shhh. Guards.” Nojus whispered, only now seeming to acknowledge their surroundings. They shrugged. “I dunno. I genuinely don’t know who either of them are. Maybe she’s jealous about my following. Lot of streamers out there trying to make it big.”
“.....” Raspberry stared at Nojus for a moment, then shook himself. “So they’re trying to interfere with your work? I can… I can work with that. Hopefully Nikki won’t mind as long as we don’t get caught.”
Far away, as Brighid turned to do her own mission, despite herself she muttered,
“Open the game.”
Location: A drydock filled with shipping crates. The map is 90x60 meters, with various objectives marked down on it. There are shipping containers (green) which are 2.25m wide, 3m long, and 3m high. There are also wooden shipping crates (orange) which are 1x1x1 meters.
Marked on the map are the objectives the teams need to accomplish. The diamonds contain information on where their containers are, while the Xs are the actual containers.
Goal: Complete the following objectives in this order:

1. Steal information that reveals which cargo contains smuggled goods. (Diamond)
2. Destroy the contents of the crates without getting caught by guards. (Xs)
3. Exit the map by returning to your starting positions.

Although both players/teams must complete the same objectives, the intel they must steal and crates they must destroy differ between them. The goal of the match is not to prevent your opponent from completing their objective, but to instead complete yours ‘better’ than they can. Players/teams can interfere with each other to slow their opponents down, but may not directly attempt to retire them. Anything up to light maiming and stabbing is fine, but keep your eyes on the ball.
For the sake of the match, the primary goals are fulfilling the objectives completely, fulfilling the objectives with panache, and fulfilling the objectives without being caught. It isn’t enough to simply win the match; it’s to stunt while doing so (either for Paranoia to outdo Nojus or for Nojus to get a really good video). In this situation, being caught includes any evidence that could be clearly traced back to the players; inexplicable occurrences from their Stand abilities do not count. A player could make noise which could alert guards, as long as they manage to stay unseen. Additionally, Nojus streaming will not count as being caught, as none of the guards are subscribed to their socials.
In essence, as long as the players are not spotted and captured in a way that would lead to their arrest, they have some leeway in the clause to not be caught.
The crates whose contents each team needs to destroy will be marked on the map from the very beginning, but they cannot proceed to step 2 without first completing step 1 as per the rules of the match.
The shipping containers and crates not filled with contraband are filled with various dishware. Plates, bowls, glasses, utensils, all the way up to basic pots and pans. The lower down that a container is, the higher quality the contents are; price will vary on the specifics, but one ‘item’ (plate, set of silverware, pot, etc) will generally vary between 20,000₹ on the bottom and 100₹ on top.
Additional Information: Hostile guard NPCs patrol different parts of the map along predictable routes, though they will deviate from their routes to investigate anything suspicious before returning to their routes. Guards start with 322 physicals, a 2 Skill in Patrolling, and a 5 Skill in Increasing Suspicion. At the start of the match, they will give a cursory investigation of an area, but will quickly give up. There is no direct time cap on the match, but as more bizarre things happen around them they will be on increasingly high alert; if one team or another stalls out for a significant amount of time, they’ll almost certainly be found.
While there are a large amount of guards, players may RETIRE some as they feel is necessary. Keep in mind that guards going missing on the job will cause the others to go on increasingly high alert and draw in replacements eventually, and whoever RETIRES a guard is obligated to hide them, or have significantly more heat on them.
The shipping containers are sufficiently expensive as to be un-purchasable by Nojus in the match. The wooden shipping crates are worth 20,000₹ each. Guards are fitted with uniforms (worth 4,000₹), stun batons (worth 7,500₹), and dice for an endemic underground gambling ring (worth 50₹).

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
Gallery of Wayward Reverie	Paranoia and Lucil Caravan	“What the hell are you jerks talking about! We don’t speak human trash-ese!” Even if horrible bloody murder isn’t quite on the cards right now, you still have to outdo this ‘influencer’ at their own game! Antagonize and confound anyone in your way as much as possible, especially through your management of threats in your way!
The Willow Wisps	Nojus Ipolitas and Raspberry Beret	“You think you can pay for this? This suit cost four million lira!” Like you’ll let some small timers get in the way of some hot dollar content. Antagonize and confound anyone in your way as much as possible, especially through your movement and pathing!

Link to Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!

Currently feel like I have a cold, but my stomach has been BUGGING me all day😭 Every time I get sick I lose my appetite and feel so nauseous even though my other cold symptoms truly aren’t that bad (i have the most minimal congestion ever and a scratchy throat). Because my immune system is in a state of distress from fighting off this other virus, is it possible my celiac flares up too from this?

I’m at a breaking point. This is my third pregnancy, and my hardest. I’m chasing around two toddlers, with little contact to the outside world. I have come down with every single virus you can name,and have had the same headache for the last two months. At night, I wake up every few hours to my jaw being clenched and neck stiffened. Last night I woke around 2am with a my sinuses clogged and my throat scratchy. I almost screamed, I was so angry. I didn’t sleep until about 5am I assume, my kids waking at 7. I don’t have help, It’s just my husband and I. His family are not sympathetic, and mine even colder and further away. Normally I love being a mom, I love playing and teaching. I love cooking and sharing that experience with my kids, I love warm weather and I just love my family so much. My body hurts, my heart hurts, and my children are being loaded up with screen time and snacks. I’m struggling to find ways to cope, I never really cried until my first was born. I was taught to be angry or be quiet, and the behaviors I’ve worked so hard to push past are peaking out once again. I randomly burst out in tears or clench every muscle in my body. I hope to god this is hormonal and will go away once I get to the finish line. Please tell me it gets better. The most I get in my real life, “you asked for this”, “You didn’t have to keep the pregnancy” (and my personal favorite) “it seems like something is just always wrong with you”

So I have a strange condition for the last couple of weeks. As soon as I go to bed I start coughing, my nose gets stuffy and throat scratchy. During the day I'm ok.
It's definitely doesn't feel like a cold or a virus, more like an allergy. Nothing has changed in my room to think it's an allergy to smth inside my room. I've done a good cleaning just in case but still get all the symptoms. What can it be?
I doubt it's a pollen allergy because it doesn't bother me when I'm outdoors and kicks in once I'm back and go to bed...

I had to euthanize my sweet baby Ariadne yesterday, just 2 days after she was diagnosed with CHF.
I got her when I finished my masters degree and got my first apartment. I visited a humane society adoption center where there were several outgoing and very playful kittens that practically swarmed me when they were let out by the staff so I could choose one. Then there was Ariadne... she was hiding in the corner of her cage, scared to come out. I walked over and we just looked at each other. I knew she was the one. I have always been very introverted and anxious in crowds. Something just clicked as if we understood each other.
From that day forward, she had been a constant in my life through career changes, moving across country, moving back to my hometown, moving back across country, moving back to my hometown again. Together, we lived in Houston, Philadelphia, Boston, and outside NYC.
Nearly everything she did would put a smile on my face. She had 'smoker's meow' (from the time I got her, her meow was so scratchy sounding like she'd just finished a pack of cigarettes after singing a full set in a country music hall). She LOVED to stick her head inside my baseball caps and roll around trying to fit inside or bury her head in my shoes when I took them off after getting home from work. When she was happy, she'd deathdrop on her back and roll around waving her front legs. She had a little snore when she slept that eased me into sleep on so many tough nights. Unlike her 'brothers' I adopted after her, she was VIGILANT about her bathroom manners and would make sure she buried very well before requiring me to clean her water bowl because she'd then go dab her paws in to clean them off after. On late nights after my partner went to sleep and I was still up gaming, she'd come and help me take breaks by requesting attention or would just lay down on my desk and watch me play. She had the most amazing purr every time I'd pet her. We'd have conversations after I came home from work where I'd inquire what trouble her brothers had gotten up to while I was away and she'd meow back a report and respond to my follow up questions. "No! They did that?" "Meow meow." "Well that's not good... how should we handle it?" "Meow."
Last Friday, she began keeping to herself a bit more than normal but was still eating and using her box just fine. Saturday, she had found a spot on some boxes in the closet in my game room and was spending a lot of time in it. This wasn't too out of the ordinary. She often liked to have some time alone away from her our companions, but she was spending more time than normal. I checked on her and she was able to hop down and seem pretty good, though a bit more tired than I expected. Sunday, I could tell something was actually wrong. In the morning, I found her with some mucous in her eyes, so I thought she'd maybe gotten a bit of an upper respiratory virus. That night, she passed up her normal sleeping spot on one of our dining room chairs and instead came and slept on a recliner I have next to my side of the bed. Now, I think she was trying to spend as much time with me as she could. Monday passed with no real decline in her behavior other than that she seemed more tired, but Tuesday morning I found her hiding in the cabinet of the guest bathroom with no desire to get up or eat. I called out of work and took her to our vet. They ran radiology and sent the results to second specialist to review. The results came back as CHF.
I was devastated, but our vet assured me that based on her current vitals there was no immediate emergency. We started her on a diuretic and blood pressure medication to help remove fluid and help her heart. I had hope that we'd make it through the current situation and we'd adapt to a happy life with a few lifestyle changes. Wednesday, she started slightly wheezing as she breathed. My fiancé took her to the vet again, but they couldn't detect anything worse in her heart murmur. She believed that Ariadne had developed an upper respiratory infection from the fluid, so she was given oxygen treatment and an antibiotic shot. I spent a good portion of the afternoon just laying with her on the carpet. She was still able to walk, but seemed disinterested in drinking any water or moving more than she needed to. Thursday morning, I spent some time with her before work. She seemed so tired, but purred pushed her head up into my hand as I pet her.
Then I got a text I was terrified to receive. When my partner got home from work, she was unable to move her back legs. I lost one of her brothers to a sudden saddle thrombus with no previous indications of heart disease or issues just 2.5 years ago - we'd literally been playing one hour and the next I found him in terrible pain and rushed him to an emergency vet. By the time of the observation, he was already almost gone and we had to let him go. After the text, I had my partner get Ariadne to the vet ASAP. I rushed out of work, but halfway to the vet I got the call that the vet determined she'd also had a clot and that there was nothing they could do but keep sedated until I arrived.
I was already in tears when I walked in. They carried her from the back and gave me time to say goodbye. I stared into those same sweet, understanding eyes that I first encountered 13 years ago. Through heavy tears, I told her how much I loved her, how amazing of a companion she'd been, and that I would never forget her. I gave her one last kiss on the top of her head on the spot she loved to get little kisses while she rested under my arm on weekend mornings. The vet came in, administered the injection, checked her heart, and let me know she was gone.
Every minute since then has been hard. I've gone through all the stages of sadness, anger, regret (Did I give her the life she deserved? Could I have done something to keep her healthier? Was I as good to her as I could have been?). Everywhere I look in my home, I can still see her. I counted the number of times each day that I smiled or laughed because of something she did, and realized I'm losing at least 20 such moments a day... 20 moments that carried me through even the hardest and most difficult days of my life before this. Our weekends were always our more special days. After my fiancé left for work, she'd hop into his spot in the bed and just sleep with me. We'd "chat" after I got up and she'd basically follow me around whether I'd be gaming, watching movies, or taking a nap on the couch. Tomorrow will be my first such day without her. I'm spending most of my time helping her remaining brother with some possible anxiety at her absence.
I found this subreddit while reading website after website about CHF as if any of it will help her now. I decided I'd share my story to help me process everything that's happened in just 7 days. I miss her so much. She was the perfect, most loving, most supportive pet companion I could have had, and she brought me so much joy during her time with me. I hope I didn't let her down in giving her a life she enjoyed also.

Pacific NW USA, late 30s male, exercise every day, monitor body composition and bloodwork every 6-12 months, typical workout diet (vegetables, rice, chicken, etc.), used to only get a cold every year or two or sometimes even less. 3x Pfizer (between 2021 and 2022) and 1x Novavax (2023)
Ever since having lingering covid symptoms, has anyone else been getting "half sick" every month or two?
By "half sick", I mean like the scratchy, inflamed, sting-y throat, specifically the soft palate, nasopharynx area. It definitely isn't from sleeping with your mouth open, allergies, or GERD (I've experienced those kinds of irritations before). Tons of thick, post-nasal-drip mucus, and in my case, it is nearly always clear too. Hard to swallow and can only force out through your mouth, not blow it out through your nose. Low fever that is most noticeable at night when you get sweaty sleeping. Basically, like the start of a bad cold but then it never gets much worse or only has one symptom and no others. And then a few days later it just kind of evaporates instead of going through a typical cold cycle of runny nose, decongesting, then eventual recovery. Never before in my life have I had these "half sicknesses".
I looked around and couldn't find anyone else describing this, so I'm wondering if it's just me. The few times I've seen a doctor they've just said things like "A lot of viruses going around!" and that's it. I'm not looking for an answer or anything. Just seeing if anyone else can relate. Thanks for any info!!!

In case it helps in anyway, here is a history of my covid battle:

• Mid 2022: first confirmed exposure to covid, but only felt run down for about 2 weeks.
• Late 2022: first positive PCR test. Felt nearly exactly like a cold (including discolored mucus) but with a bit of a fever for a day, felt back to 100% in 10-14 days. Might've been a bit more sensitive to foods I was already sensitive to (eg, dairy, coffee) but hard to say for sure. Resume normal exercise, but quit taking whey protein.
• June 2023: got really sick with big blobs of yellow, green, and brown mucus during the wildfires in the eastern US. Negative rapid tests for covid. Really bad sore throat, kinda like strep. The acute part seemed to only last for 3 or so days. Had some rundown symptoms before the acute illness and then a lingering "not quite right" feeling for 3-4 weeks after the acute illness where I abstained from exercise. First time ever that something was lingering that long in my life. The next 1 or 2 months was nearly symptom free, but maybe the food sensitivity was escalated a bit more. Feel good enough to resume normal exercise.
• Sept 2023: Feel run down again like before I was sick in mid 2022, but it doesn't progress and I'm left feeling like that. Mild fatigue, brain fog, extra post nasal drip mucus (clear), just every single day. Generally feel well enough to do some light exercise, but something is still "off". Start of LC in my opinion.
• Nov 2023: "half sick" with a really bad sore throat, worse than strep, but basically no other symptoms other than remaining LC ones, but with an increase of the constant clear mucus. Strep and rapid covid tests negative. Suddenly gets better after about 6 days of getting worse and worse and no other symptoms. Get the Novavax vaccine and no reaction to it. Not well enough to exercise.
• Dec 2023: "half sick" for about a week. Mostly just a very mild sore throat that felt like the start of a cold but never progressed and then suddenly got better. Rapid covid tests negative. Took zinc 3-5 zinc lozenges for the first 2-3 days. Still same LC symptoms, still not exercising. Resume taking whey protein + L-glutamine.
• Jan 2024: "half sick" for a few days. Took zinc lozenges for 2 or so days. I did eventually clear a small oddly-dark, oddly-sticky bit of mucus (usually the mucus is clear) from my sinus and within a day or two my excess mucus LC symptoms are greatly reduced, basically gone. My brain fog and fatigue are gone for a few days too and I remember what it was like before covid! They come back in a few days though. But back to being well enough to do light exercise.
• (Current) Mar 2024: "half sick" with a sore throat, like in Jan 2024.

Hello! My son and I both started having symptoms over the weekend. Friday night I was struck with random vertigo followed by headache and sinus pain. By Saturday, my son had a massive headache, sore throat and fever. I had a headache and scratchy throat all weekend. By Monday, my son was pretty bad and tested positive. His fever finally broke yesterday and he is doing better. I have felt like I’ve had a head cold since Monday. Yesterday was the worse for me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and massive headache. At one point yesterday, I woke up and was completely disoriented. This morning I have finally tested positive. I’m feeling a little better but already suffered a massive nose bleed this morning. I did a virtual visit on Monday but was unable to get the anti-viral due to negative tests. They told me I only had one more day. Welp, with me testing positive today, I’m a day late. I really think I’m over the hump. I haven’t run any fever and even though I’m asthmatic, I haven’t had any trouble breathing. Any recommendations to get this virus over with?

In what I thought were my last moments, I remembered her
Detonation in… 59
58
57
56
55
54
It's crazy how your life really can flash before your eyes.
Though I couldn't remember her name, I remembered her laugh.
How it felt to smile, the contortions in her mouth.
I remembered her feeling happy.
Sad
Angry
Scared
Pain
I remembered her life.
No.
My life.
“Holy shit, you're in Family 101 too?”
I met him when I was buying coffee.
I don't remember his name. Names, like everything else, are gone. There are only blurs in my mind that resemble faces and splinters of what could have been a voice. I've been told to write this as closure to myself, accepting my pain and moving on from my past. But the more I write, the more I remember, and, like a virus, it is slowly taking over me.
The boy who would later become Brother was the guy standing behind me whistling to himself, scrolling through his phone with the volume just a little too loud for 8:30. I'm told to visualise the memory like I am there, imagining each sense. I remember it was raining, and the smell of the rain comforted me. I could taste bubblegum in my mouth, and the slightest hint of chocolate pastry and stale orange juice.
It was the start of the spring, and cherry blossoms were already blooming outside, petals dancing across the walk.
There was a small local coffee shop off campus that did morning lattes with free sugar cookies.
Not an ideal breakfast, but it was energy, and I needed it after barely sleeping the night before. The guy behind me who couldn't seem to stand still, bouncing up and down on his heels like a hyperactive child, wasn't helping.
I was already highly irate, and it didn't take much to piss me off in the morning. The coffee steamer made me cringe, the sound of cups and silverware gritting my teeth together.
The barista making my drink looked like she hated her life, which wasn't making me feel any better. She worked like a robot, her hands doing several things at once. The girl had light blonde hair hanging in her face. The shadows under her eyes were making me tired.
College student. Maybe in her last year.
I thought about making idle conversation, but when I happened to catch her eye, she silently pleaded with me not to.
I could kind of sympathise with her.
I worked in my grandpa's coffee shop in Thailand when I was fourteen.
Never again.
Instead of striking up a chat and making her morning worse, I only offered a smile. My phone was already dying after I maxed out the battery doom scrolling, and my headphones were in my bag. So, I pulled out my class schedule. I thought I was hallucinating when I glimpsed it earlier that morning.
There was one particular class that didn't make sense. It just appeared out of nowhere. I already knew my core classes and electives, so what the fuck was Family 101? I called the college to enquire, but the woman I had been speaking to put the phone down on me.
When I called again, I was directed to the Dean’s office, who of course did not pick up.
So, I found myself on my way to Family 101.
Whatever it was.
I didn't realize phone guy was peering over my shoulder, until he cleared his throat loudly.
“Holy shit, you're in that weird class too?”
When I twisted around, he nodded at my schedule. This guy looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, hiding behind a mop of sandy coloured curls. His trenchcoat immediately cemented him as an English major. I wasn't sure what was more pretentious, his style, or the unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
The kid pulled out his own schedule that was neatly folded into a square, pointing to it like an excited kid.
“Family 101 with Professor Hargreaves? I'm in there too, man!”
I nodded, hesitantly. “Yeah. Room GH78?”
He responded with a grin. “It's a small world, huh.”
Before I could answer, my order was called out. “Caramel latte?”
Turning back to the counter, the barista was finishing up my drink, piercing the lid with a straw. But her eyes weren't on me. She was glaring at Mr Pretentious.
“No smoking allowed in here.” Her voice was a little too monotone to be human.
The guy inclined his head. “But it's not technically smoking.”
“Sir The barista's smile was a little too forced, though there was a hint of amusement in her tone. “I said there's no smoking allowed in here,” she paused, folding her arms. “Get rid of it, or I'm telling Mom.”
When I turned to him, the boy’s eyes had darkened, lips curved around the cigarette. “Wow. How old are you now, like twenty five? And you're going to run to Mom? It's not even lit, dumbass.”
Unfazed, the girl took another order, maintaining her smile. “Get rid of it.”
He scoffed. “I'm eighteen now. You guys can't order me around anymore.”
“True. But you'll stop being Mom’s perfect little golden boy if she finds out you smoke.”
“But I'm not even smoking!”
She raised a brow. “You're chewing a cigarette. The rules at home don't apply here, so you can't get your own way. Get rid of it before my boss has an aneurism, or I'm telling Mom her perfect son smokes fifty packs a day.“
I sensed him stiffening behind me, losing his bravado. “You wouldn't.”
“I would. She's already suspicious.”
The guy rolled his eyes, plucking out the cigarette and stuffing it into his pocket. “You're a little bitch, Bess.”
The barista, or Bess, straightened up, blowing a kiss. “Love you too, Acey.”
“Urgh! Don't make it weird!”
Her gaze found mine, satisfied. “Enjoy your drink.”
I found my voice, avoiding their sibling spat. “Thanks.”
I attempted to leave the store, but the guy stepped in front of me, blocking my way. Bess served another customer, maintaining a smile through gritted teeth. I noticed she was hitting the cash register a little too hard. “By the way, dad’s birthday party is on Sunday. And yes, his new girlfriend is coming. If you don't turn up and leave me to deal with the terror twins, I will burn you alive.”
The boy mocked a frown, inclining his head. “Aww, Bess, I didn't realize you cared that much about me!” his tone dripped with sarcasm. “I mean I would love to watch Mom and Dad scream at each other all day, but I'm actually busy,” he stepped back, shooting her a grin.
I made another attempt to sidestep him, only for the guy to stop me again, this time motioning for me to wait.
“I'll be going away for a while, sis. You'll probably never see me again.”
Bess didn't look up. “The party starts at three,” she grumbled. I'll see you there.”
“No you won't,” he said in a sing-song. “I told you, this is the last time you'll be seeing me.”
Bess caught my gaze, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. “If only.”
“I heard that.”
Bess slammed an iced mocha down. “You were supposed to, dear brother.”
The last thing I wanted was to accidentally insert myself in an apparent family affair. So, when I saw an opening, I grabbed my coffee and made my way to the door, only for Mr Trenchcoat to follow me, swiping canned coffee from the counter.
“I'll pay for it later!” he shouted over his shoulder, ignoring Bess’s, I thought I was never going to see you again?
“Yo! Family 101. Mind if I join ya?”
I guess I had already made a friend.
“Sure.”
I regretted my response, maybe 0.1 seconds later.
This guy would not shut up.
“So, Family 101 sounds shady, right? Or am I crazy?”
“It sounds strange,” I commented. “I wouldn't say shady, though.”
“But don't you think it's weird?” he said, the two of us pushing back out into warm spring air. The conversation started out fairly normal, only to devolve into conspiracy theories. Still though, his company was better than being alone.
Tuning out most of his manic muttering, I found myself smiling, revelling in a light breeze blowing my hair out of my face. Most of my memories are gone, cruelly torn away. But I still have pieces, splinters of a puzzle I've been piecing together.
It was the perfect temperature. Not warm enough for short sleeve weather yet, but I didn't have to wear a coat.
I remembered my coffee was too hot, scalding, and I took hesitant sips, immediately burning my tongue.
I didn't even know his name.
His accent was endearing, a slight English undertone if I concentrated. He jumped over cracks on the walk, already talking at a speed I couldn't keep up with. But it was refreshing. While he spoke in fast forward, I took notice of his stripy backpack that was unzipped, half of his books hanging out.
When he skipped in front of me, I zipped it up for him.
Not that he noticed.
“I mean, I thought the name was kinda funny, like what, are they teaching eighteen year olds how to make families now?” he twisted around with his arms spread out, expecting me to answer.
I just shrugged, sipping my coffee.
The guy was already getting odd looks from commuters. I don't think he knew how loud he was talking. “Yeah! Exactly, right? I mean, zero of my friends have this class, and I've asked a lot of people in my dorm. Family 101 doesn't exist according to Google, and that is already a huge red flag–” The guy cracked open his coffee and took a long swig (and a breath, thankfully), his expression twisting like he'd bit into a lemon.
“Urgh!”
When he politely covered his mouth before turning and spitting it out onto the sidewalk, I couldn't resist a snort.
“Do you not like canned coffee?” I asked.
“It's diet!”
“Why didn't you get a normal coffee?”
The guy blew a raspberry, taking another experimental sip. This time he didn't spit it out but he did dramatise swallowing it. “Bess would do unspeakable things to it,” he held up his can. “I would rather drink sewer water.”
I nodded slowly, following him across the road. I could see the campus ahead. It was smaller than I thought, a glass structure reflecting the early morning sun. “Bess. So, that was your sister?”
The guy shot me a look, his eyes narrowing. “Urgh. No. Ignore her, she was dropped on the head as a kid. I'm pretty sure Bess is running on half a brain-cell.”
I laughed. “She called you little bro!”
This kid was stubborn, downing his sewer water coffee. “That's her official title, but I'm pretty sure Mom fucked a demon, and out she came.”
I sipped my own lukewarm coffee. “Your family sounds… interesting.”
I still didn't know his name, and yet somehow that was okay. The guy spluttered, though his expression darkened. “Oh, you don't know the half of it,” he was squeezing the can in his fist, pulverising aluminium between his fingers. “I have a helicopter Mom who I just managed to escape. Dad fucked his twenty year old assistant, and my older sister is the second coming of Satan.”
“Escape?” I managed to say in a breath.
His gaze wandered. “Yeah. Mom’s intense. When I was in school, she wouldn't let me date or even have friends. It had to be just the two of us,” the boy sighed. “Mom hated Bess when she was little. Dad said it was postpartum depression, and she tried to get help, except she had no bond with her whatsoever.” he shot me a sickly smile.
“It was different when I was born. Mom loved me, and treated Bess like shit,” his voice cracked a little. “When we were kids, it was always me who was getting toys and vacations to Disney, while Bess got nothing. So, naturally, my older sister grew to resent me because, in her words,” he mimicked his sister’s voice.
“I'm the evil brother who took away her Mom.”
Before I could respond, he sighed. “Bess can have her. That woman is a certified psycho, and I don't say that lightly about my own mother." The guy raked his fingers down his face, and I could see the mental turmoil in his eyes.
No wonder this kid didn't want to go to his dad’s party.
“Mom locked me in my room when I turned fifteen, and refused to let me have friends. She tried to homeschool me, but dad was against it… thank god. I had a curfew of 3:30 after school, and if I wasn't back on the dot, she would come looking for me and drag me back home.”
He let out a bitter laugh, and I found myself wondering why it was me who this stranger was pouring his heart out to.
“I only managed to get away from her because of college, and even then, she tried to force me to get a job and stay at home. I had to wait until she was sleeping so I could move out. Otherwise, she would try and manipulate me into staying, and I would rather die than live in that house.”
I nodded. “Did Bess and your dad try to help you?”
The kid surprised me with a laugh. “You're kidding, right?”
We entered the campus building through automatic doors, and he stuck to my side. The interior was cosy. I appreciated the reception area filled with leather reclining chairs and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans.
When I asked where our classroom was, we were directed up a flight of stairs. My new friend took them two at a time. “Bess thinks I was Mom’s golden boy, and sure, I was on the outside. But I was also a prisoner in my own home,” reaching the top of the stairs, the boy didn't turn around, waiting for me to catch up. “My sister either didn't see it, or was in denial I was being treated worse than her.”
When I joined him, he surprised me with a smile.
“And that is why you should never have a family.” he mocked a bow. “Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.”
I offered him my own slightly forced grin.
“Noted!”
The last thing this guy needed was a class called Family 101.
He needed therapy.
The two of us were late to the class, immediately catching the attention of the professor, who was mid-rant. He was younger than I imagined, a thirty something year old man standing in front of a PowerPoint presentation.
“Late comers, please do not interrupt your classmates and find a seat please. Thank you.” The classroom was filled with students and I squeezed into a seat at the front, the guy plonking down next to me.
“As I was saying,” the man paced up and down the stage. “People are not having babies anymore, or they are, but they're not in stable families. Birth rates are at an all time high, but how many of those women are in real families?”
The boy nudged me, chuckling. “Oh, boy.”
“American families are dying,” the professor continued. “Young people don't want to create a family these days. They want to travel the world or progress in their careers. You have your teenage hood to do that. Your childhood is for discovering your identity and who you are.” he stopped pacing.
“Over fifty percent of young people these days choose to live at home with their parents to escape the reality of being an adult. You choose to bury yourselves in nostalgia, gaming, television and movies to avoid entering the world of adulthood and starting a proper family.”
The others murmured around me, some in agreement, while the majority were laughing at him.
“He definitely made those statistics up,” my friend rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “This guy is a certified nut.”
I had to agree. 50% was overkill.
The professor was unfazed by the reaction. “I mean a real family. A mother and a father, and their children. Most American families are broken up and divorced. The children grow up with an unstable mother and an absent father. The mother is usually a teen parent and the father left them because he couldn't bear the responsibility.”
“Out of touch freak!”
Someone shouted in the audience.
“What if we don't want to have families?” a girl spoke up. “What the fuck are you trying to say?”
“Yeah,” another girl joined in. “It's not the 1950’s anymore, weirdo.”
A boy stood up, cupping his mouth.
“Who gives you the right to tell us what to do? We’re adults, aren't we?”
The professor folded his arms stubbornly. “Sit down,” he ordered the boy, who slumped into his seat. “Okay. Let's do a small exercise. I want you to raise your hand if you are pursuing becoming a YouTuber or online influencer.”
Looking around, nobody did.
The profesor pursed his lips. “Okay then, raise your hand if you are pursuing a career involving the internet.”
This time, half of the class raised their hands.
“This is exactly my point,” the professor stepped back. “You are the next generation who will take control of our country. Who will be expected to make choices, to look after our children and ensure we continue to be great, and yet your brains are rotting. You only care about likes, followers, and engagement. You have been brought up on the internet, brainwashed to crave the luxury lifestyles thrown in your faces.”
He stepped forward, “When you should be building families.”
Ouch.
“Should we go?” my friend whispered, knocking my shoulder. “We should definitely go, right? Unless you want to listen to Mr Patriot crying about teenagers having minds of their own.”
“Why should we make families?” a girl behind me spat, breaking the silence. “I didn't even feel safe going to school.”
Another stood up. “Why should we do what you want when you failed us, and will continue to fail our hypothetical children that you so desperately want?”
To my surprise, my friend joined in. “Get off the stage, man. You're embarrassing yourself.”
Ignoring him, the teacher cleared his throat. “All right.” His piercing gaze found my friend. “Raise your hands if you have grown up in a broken family.”
Something seemed to snap in the boy’s expression.
His arm shot up, as did everyone else’s.
I found myself torn.
Mom did leave me when I was twelve, but it was because of her mental health.
She couldn't cope with having a child.
But I was still writing her letters and visiting the wellness centre she was at.
Still, though.
That meant dad was never home, and I brought myself up.
With a heavy heart, I slowly held up my hand too.
Professor Hargreaves was visibly satisfied.
“You were all failed by your own parents,” he said. “Wouldn't you like to build a family to make up for your own abandonment? Your own trauma? Don't you want to raise healthy children who will go on to make a difference? Make our country proud?”
Jesus.
I shared a mutual smirk with Mr. Trenchcoat.
I was half expecting the star spangled banner to start playing.
Though there was just silence.
Before a guy laughed. “Dude. You need help.”
He jumped up, offering the professor a two fingered salute. “Kids suck. Besides, I’d be a shit father, so no thanks.”
The entire front row followed him, grabbing their bags.
Then my row. I stood up too, but my friend pulled me back down.
When I turned to him in confusion, I noticed he was trembling, his cheeks sickly pale under overexposed light.
He dropped to his knees and I followed.
“The doors.” the boy hissed out. “They're locking the doors!”
He was right.
When I lifted my head, students were already protesting, pushing their way to the exits where a scary amount of guards were congregating. The main door was blocked. “Sit down.” the professor ordered. “If you do not take your seat, you will be considered ineligible for the Family 101 program, and will be dealt with accordingly.”
I crawled back into my seat, the boy following suit.
“Fuck.” he whispered. “I don't think we have a choice.”
I found my voice. “To what?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, grasping for my hand. “The name of the class.”
“I repeat,” Professor Hargreaves said, “If you do not take your seat immediately, you will be considered as ineligible for the Family 101 program and will be dealt with accordingly.”
When a girl suddenly dropped to the ground, nobody seemed to notice.
But then the guy in front of me dropped to his knees, then his stomach.
I didn't notice his blood was spraying my face until my vision blurred.
Another girl tipped sideways.
The entire front row went down like domino's, and yet I stayed perfectly still.
I could feel red warmth slick on my face, dripping down my chin.
Pieces of skull dotted my desk, like cats teeth.
In the long, dizzying moment between watching my classmate’s brains being blown out, and realising I would not be getting out of that room alive, I was forced to my feet. I was still covered in blood. I could taste it on my tongue, and it didn't make sense how and why there was so much. Reality didn't make sense, and I don't think I wanted it to make sense. Sound came in waves, bleeding into me and then fading out.
Screams slammed into my skull.
Students dropped into their seats, their eyes wild.
I was half aware of being violently dragged backwards, grouped with the girls. While my friend was pulled back and forced into line with the boys. The professor told us to stand still, and we did, while a swath of black surrounded us. Guards. They poked and prodded us, forcing us to line up like cattle to the slaughter.
Ten, no, twelve, of us were dead.
The rest of us prisoners.
I remembered absently wiping slick red from a blonde’s cheek.
Oh, I thought dizzily.
So, this was Family 101.
I forgot how to think straight after that.
The world became a playground, and my mind was cotton candy. I was on my knees on the classroom floor, and then I was standing in a large white room with the rest of the girls. We were allowed to shower and dress, and that’s the last time I remember coherently thinking.
When I was dragging a scratchy sponge across my skin, watching a stranger's blood swirl around faucet, I picked up the shampoo bottle and peered at it through soaking strands of hair glued to my face.
No tears.
I wasn't crying, and the shampoo didn't sting.
No TEARS.
I laughed, a hysterical bubble of giggles escaping my mouth.
Tears.
I began with my scalp, ripping out clumps of my hair.
The shampoo bottle said no tears.
So, why did I want to tear off my own skin? Why did I want to drown myself under the spigot and escape the white?
I scrubbed my skin until my arms were bleeding, until I dropped to my knees and clawed at my legs with my fingernails. There was so much blood, so much of him painting me, scalding my skin, and I didn't even know his name.
When I tried to claw my eyes out, a female guard restrained me.
First, they took my identity.
This is where I would tell you my name, but I don't remember it.
Every part of me, every piece of her was wiped away.
The girl who liked bad horror movies and wanted to be an artist.
Inside the room with pale blue walls, that girl’s body and mind was twisted and contorted into me. They tore away my ability to cry, to scream, to beg for help, forcing metal rods into my skull and twisting until I gave up my name through a cry that begged to die. They forced me to give up the names of my family and friends, replacing them with names I did not know yet. But as the light flickered above me and time passed slowly, I stopped screaming.
I repeated the names I was told to say, when I didn't speak fast enough, I demanded to be punished.
When the electroshocks stopped running up and down my spine, my body no longer belonged to me.
I did not have feelings of pain when the back of my head was cut open.
I did not scream or cry or beg to die.
Instead, I lay very still while they hollowed me out.
When I joined a long line of girls under fluorescent lights, we looked the same.
Dolls with perfect faces and ponytails, dressed in light pink dresses.
We were Sisters.
They told us how to smile.
How to present ourselves.
If we didn't smile, we were replaced.
If we relaxed our expression or showed emotion, we were deactivated.
The topics we were allowed to discuss:
Cooking and cleaning with our mother, and our favorite book from book club
When one of us stumbled, she was dragged away and replaced with another.
I stayed in a single white room with a pink bed and a stuffed toy I named Ace.
On Choosing Day, I was given my new parents.
I was Sunny Fairview. Sixteen years old. I enjoyed reading books, listening to the radio, and helping my mother clean the house and cook dinner.
My favorite book was Paradise Lost.
I wore a bright yellow dress and a red ribbon in my hair.
Mother smelled like raspberries when I hugged her.
Father shook my hand and told me I was already the best daughter he ever had.
Brother joined us soon after. He was taller than me, brown hair slicked back, wearing simple jeans and a checker shirt. When he first hugged me, he smelled of singed flesh and his brain was leaking out of his nose.
Brother was dragged away after failing to announce his name, his lip wobbling.
“Wait.” he whimpered, blinking rapidly. “I don't… I don't understand what's–”
When his eyes rolled into the back of his head, Brother was promptly fixed.
He came back an hour later with a wide smile.
Freddie Fairview. Sixteen years old. He enjoyed football and working construction.
We lived in a small suburban neighbourhood.
Our house had a white picket fence and Freddie and I liked to play in the yard.
I read books and listened to the radio in my bedroom.
Freddie played football.
Fridays were my favourite. We had eggs benedict for breakfast.
The target knelt in front of me threw up his arms.
“Please,” he whispered. “I didn't do anything–”
Father shot him square in the head, and I lowered my gun, tucking it into my dress.
Freddie, following Father’s orders, plucked the man's eyes from his skull.
We were ordered to hand in both of them.
The Fairview family were never told any other information, except our target and location.
Luckily, the second target was at the diner while we were tucking into our breakfast. Father used his charms as usual, while Freddie and I stayed on standby. I held the rest of the customers hostage, while Mother finished her orange juice. When the target tried to escape, Brother intercepted him at the door, easily dodging his attacks.
The target was desperate, but Brother was fast.
With not much effort, Freddie Fairview was holding the target in the air, his legs dangling.
Mother continued to eat her breakfast, slicing into her sausage. “Careful, son of mine,” she hummed. “You don't want to cause a commotion now, do you?”
Brother blinked. “No, of course not, Mother.”
She nodded, swiping at her lips with a pink napkin. “Put him down, please.”
Brother dropped the target, and Mother calmly stood up, took out her polka-dot coloured pistol, and shot him point blank. When the target's eyes were in our possession, Mom laughed. “Well, kids! Now, wasn't that a lot of fun?”
She swiped blood from her face with her napkin and Brother and I resumed our places at the table. I ate my ice cream, and Brother slurped up chocolate shake. The Fairview Family were not supposed to acknowledge the people who came to clean up the mess.
We just took orders.
Mom clapped her hands together. “Who wants chocolate chip pancakes?”
I grinned.
“I do!"
The Fairview Family were just your average American family.
This time, I was running barefoot through splintered glass. It was pitch black, but my body was on autopilot.
The woman I was chasing twisted around and shot three rounds.
Each of them missed, clumsily zipping past me.
I dived onto her back, and with a twist of my wrist, sliced her throat open.
Then I stuffed my hand down her throat, acquiring the target.
A rolled up piece of paper she had tried to swallow.
Every week, I had my daily check up.
I had to sit in a white room and allow a masked man to prod at my right eye.
“Name?”
I said the same thing every time, straightening my chin.
“Sunny Fairview.”
He prodded the back of my head. “Any other names?”
I shook my head. “No, sir.”
When he prodded my head again, I felt it.
Pain.
The world erupted into confusing colour, and I let out a shriek.
Alyssa? Alyssa, can you hear me?
Static in my brain, like a radio being tuned in.
JUST YOUR AVERAGE ALL AMERICAN FAMILY.
That's what we were.
We went to the park, and had picnics.
I helped Mother cook dinner. She was going to help me make chicken pot pie.
Just like.
Every.
Alyssa, I know you can hear me!
Other.
All.
Please. Fuck. Please wake up.
American—
I’ve got it!
I forgot what colour looked like.
Blinking rapidly, I found myself sitting in my bright pink bedroom. Pink.
It drowned me, my whole room painted a pretty shade of pink. Brother was sitting cross legged in front of me. He was painted in red. There was red on his face, red on his fingers, red on his clothes. It was everywhere and it didn't suit my usually perfect brother. The red didn't make sense. It was alien and wrong. Brother leaned forward. He'd carved into his own eye with a knife.
There was something glistening between his fingers.
So much vibrant red, slick and warm.
Dripping.
Alyssa?
Brother pried my right eye open, peering at me.
In a flash, I saw a stripy backpack, warm red seeping from my nose.
Can you…
...Hear me?
The world blurred.
Static in my head, but this time I could feel.
The gravel on my bare toes when I landed.
“3.1 and 3.2. Stay where you are,” a voice screeched in my skull when I bound forwards. “The Fairview family has been compromised. Deactivate.”
I dropped to my knees, my brain sizzling.
“Wait!”
Brother put down his weapon, throwing his hands up.
“What would be the point in deactivation, huh? Don't you need us?”
10
“Professor Hargreaves,” Brother spat. “Show yourself! It's the least you can do before getting rid of your mistakes.”
9
8
7
“Preparing to self destruct.”
6
5
4
I really liked his stripy backpack.
His.
3
Stripy.
2.
Backpack.
…
I woke up dead.
No.
Alive, but I might as well have been dead.
“Hey, I think this one is still alive!
When I opened my eyes, colour was distorted. I was tangled in a pile of bodies like doll pieces, twisted arms and legs and torsos without heads. I didn't feel fear. I was just numb. The face peering down at me was a woman with wide eyes, dark hair scraped into a ponytail. Her expression was gentle.
“Can you tell me your name?”
When I tried to drink in my surroundings, she shook her head firmly.
“No. Hey, look at me.” she gripped my chin, forcing me to look directly at her.
“Sweetie, can you remember your name?”
Sister.
The woman's name was Miri. She introduced herself as a survivor of the Family 101 program. Her friends search Family 101 neighbourhoods for deactivated models and take them in.
There are fifteen of us, and neither of them are Brother. I wanted to go to the police, but Miri was insistent I didn't.
The police are aware of and are funding the Family 101 program.
To protect deactivated survivors, I have to stay quiet.
Over the last few months, I have been working with Dr. Michael's, who is helping me remember who I used to be.
I know that I had a mother who left me.
And I wanted to be an artist.
But that's it. The rest of me is Sister.
Miri told me to report any strange instances, though I'm not sure how to tell her.
Last night, I was sitting in the yard reading a book.
My favorite book is Paradise Lost.
Miri called me for dinner, and I lifted my head to jump up.
But I could have sworn, standing ahead of me in a perfect straight line, were all three members of The Fairview Family.
Mother, her head cocked at an unnatural angle.
Her stomach had been scooped out.
Father, half of his face ripped off.
And Brother.
The back of his head was gone, his body swaying from side to side.
But he was smiling at me, a wide skeletal grin.
And I remembered his static voice in my head.
I’ve got it!
Alyssa, look at me! We can get out of here, but I need you to trust me, okay?
Here's what I want you to…do.
Something ice cold ran down my spine, and I jumped up, taking slow steps back.
The Fairview Family stopped shuffling towards me, twisted around, and disappeared into the dark.
Freddie Fairview paused, slowly inclining his head. He seemed to stare at me for a long time, his grin growing wider, more horrific, before turning and following the others. I watched their figures get further and further away, my heart lodged into the back of my throat.
Something tells me they'll be back.
Activated or not, I think the remnants of my family want Sunny Fairview back.
I'm leaving Miri’s safe house tonight, I'm terrified of staying here.
I can't put the other survivors in danger.
Fuck.
I really liked his stripy backpack.

"Did the lights just go out?"
That was my last thought, overwhelmed with panic. But that panic was fading, replaced by a numbness in my body and blood that should have scared me.
Instead, I felt… nothing, and nothing was oblivion, a deep cavern inside me that had picked me apart and left…this.
There was nothing of me left, and what remained were splinters. I remembered my fingers wrapped around a wine glass. Figures around me. Laughter. I remembered feeling comfortable. Music in my ears, and the graze of cool air on my face. Someone playfully nudged me. Then… darkness.
I woke up… cold. There were no coherent thoughts except that I was cold. I was so… cold. It was silent. My body felt strange, like it was nothing but a lump of flesh I was barely in control of. I blinked once, then twice. There was a sharp pain in the top of my mouth. Not enough to ignite a memory, but definitely enough for my lips to formulate words.
"Fuck."
I said to the ceiling in a croak. My voice had a low cadence, and was a stranger to me. Slowly, my surroundings swam into view. I was uncomfortably curled into large hot tub, my legs hanging over the edge, head pressed against ice cold porcelain and twisted at a weird angle.
The light shining down on me was so bright.
Too bright.
Blinking rapidly, I shaded my eyes.
Something wet dripped onto my forehead.
Then again.
It didn't feel like water. Water wasn't warm, with a thicker consistency. It felt like… soup. I had no significant memories, but I did remember sticking my hands in a bowl of soup and burning myself as a kid. I was frowning at my clothes, a short sleeved shirt and jeans, frayed rope still loosely coiled around my left wrist, when a third drop this time hit my cheek. This one was messier, sliding down my face.
I remembered how to move, lifting my hand and catching stray drops.
Bright red smeared my fingers when I dazedly stared down at them, my body jolting suddenly. Blood. It shouldn't have had a smell, especially one that was the equivalent of sticking my head in my roommate's fire noodles.
I had a roommate.
There was nothing attached to it, only a shadow in the back of my mind.
The blood staining my hands stood out to me, like it was fake. Paint.
I was suddenly aware of how dry my throat was. Scratchy. Like I hadn't drank in days.
I was staring down at my hand, trying to figure out if I wanted to lick my palm, or wipe it on my shirt, when a fourth drop hit. This time it smeared the edge of the hot tub. Three consecutive drips.
I should have felt something. Panic. Confusion. Maybe fear, if my body got a hold of itself.
But no. Instead, my mouth burned.
Not fire noodles burning. Real burning, like my throat was catching alight. Water was my immediate thought.
I could see a working faucet across the bathroom, a silver spigot. I don't know if I was high, or maybe going crazy, but my vision had gone 0-1000 in a single minute, a foggy blur I could barely make out, bursting into vivid clarity. So clear, it was too clear. I don't think I was supposed to be able to see single tiny droplets of water clinging to the spigot.
Tipping my head back, my gaze rolled to the ceiling lazily. More blood, my spotty brain was slow to point out. I was staring at bright red glimmering above me, like a plush carpet. Inclining my head, my jaw throbbed. Sensation was starting to drift back, and with it came the stink of decay.
They were in the corner of my eye. I had already noticed them seconds before, but every time I thought about them, my body grew a mind of its own. Piled in the corner and spread across the floor were bodies. They all had the same face.
The same wide eyes and horrified expression. Bodies that had been torn into and ravaged, severed heads and bisected torso's entangled together. Something seized in the pit of my gut, and I felt myself shuffling back against the tub. But I didn't barf. I didn't feel my stomach contract. That gnawing itching in my throat only grew worse.
I was numb.
Empty.
Wrong.
Thirsty.
"Sam," a male monotone voice came over the speaker. "Sam, can you hear me?"
I moved my head slightly, and the intercom crackled again. "Yes, Sam. I am talking to you. Please make your way to the diary room. We are waiting for you, Sam." When I didn't move, the voice didn't let up. "Do it now, Sam."
I had zero idea of what any of those words meant.
Climbing out of the tub, I dropped onto my knees, my palms grazing wet warmth coagulating across patterned tiles. More blood. This time slicking my hands and soaking my jeans. I don't know why I licked my hands tentatively, hesitantly.
It was a knee jerk reaction. But it tasted good. Thick and coppery. Standing in front of a mirror stretched out across the wall, I had to blink several times to figure out what was wrong. I had no reflection. No face to match my voice. No identity to put back together. Fuck. Was that the only word I knew how to say? I squinted in the mirror, trying to find myself. What I did see was foggy, an outline, a shadow with no discernable face. There was… something. I blinked and got a flash of thick dark hair. A hooded sweatshirt.
Leaning closer, I got a glimpse of half lidded eyes. Dried blood smeared across my lips and chin. I opened my mouth, sticking my index finger across my top molars. Before I could see anything, my reflection, or what was left of it, bled into condensation clinging to the glass. When my head twisted toward the door, my body was already ahead of my brain.
I tensed up, my fingers gripping the edge of the faucet, my nose flaring. The stink of blood was suddenly overwhelming, suffocating my senses. There was someone outside, the thought hit me like a warning, a danger. And that person was… a threat. Still though, that didn't stop me from pulling the door open. It was the light that caught me off guard. Brighter and more intense than the bathroom, it was too overpowering, searing the back of my neck and back.
The hallway reminded me of a fun house. What had been yellow carpet stained with grisly entrails. The threat was a guy knelt a few feet away.
I came to an abrupt stop, a thick paste creeping up my throat. At first, I thought he was crying. Maybe laughing. But the smell was too powerful, and just like me, this guy was being controlled by his own senses, taking advantage of the body in front of him. He was drinking, guzzling down pooling red stemming around a limp hand. I took a step forward. Somehow, I wasn't scared. Part of me wanted to join him, quenching that incessant itching in my throat.
He paused, lifting his head slightly. "I found her first," his voice was a low growl. "Get your own breakfast, dude."
I think that was when I found my voice.
"What the fuck," was all I said. "What the fuck is happening?"
The guy turned slowly, flashing me a grin. It was his teeth that stood out, sharpened incisors bared in a predatory growl. He looked younger than I felt. Maybe by a year of two. Hiding behind reddish brown hair hanging in hollowed out eyes, the guy slowly tipped his head to the side, like he was sussing me out.
There was something out of place, what I thought was glitter at first.
No, they were icicles.
Once I was seeing them, I couldn't stop seeing them. They clung to his lashes, hanging from his lip. Crystals of ice.
This kid hadn't bathed in… I wasn't sure he had ever bathed. Greasy hair sticking in clumps to his forehead hanging in damp curls, his entire face stained new and old scarlet. There were traces of humanity. Even faint.
I caught a watch on his wrist, what looked like a hearing aid attached to his right ear. I saw the hesitance in the way he moved, his jaw clenching, fingers gripping onto the corpse for dear life, sinking into flesh I knew was still warm. There had been a heartbeat, maybe an hour ago. Two, if he savoured her before ripping out her throat.
When it became clear that I wasn't stepping into his territory, his shoulders slumped. "I forgot about you. I mean, I wasn't going to tie you up again, man. You were feral. Which doesn't make sense because I'm pretty sure you're still breathing." He curled his lip. "Huh. Whatever." The kid rolled his eyes, before turning back to his…meal. My mouth watered again when he latched his teeth onto the scraps. He wasn't eating. He was drinking, eyes rolling back, moaning into flesh he was clinging onto like a wild animal. "They're getting sued for this," he mumbled. I could hear it washing down his throat. Smell it wet on his fingers.
Almost taste it.
The kid continued talking, like he wasn't licking rivulets of red seeping down his face and chin. "I'm talking sued, sued. Like, we are going to make millions if they let us out… which is unlikely, but–" His voice collapsed into a childlike giggle, talking to himself through thirsty gulps, relishing every drop. I didn't realize I was backing away, until my body physically dragged me forwards, my throat, mouth, everything was burning. The kid was still talking to me, but I was already looking for a way out. "Hey, I wouldn't go in there," he said. "Those are the newbies, and trust me, you don't want to be near a newbie."
"Why?" I whispered.
The kid honked out a laugh. "Cos' they'll rip your fuckin' throat out! Especially when you're not…cooked."
Ignoring him, I continued down the hallway. I could hear thumping, animalistic snarls. Every door was locked. "See?" the guy called down the hall. "Just leave 'em'. It takes a while to get used to, y'know?" With his voice ringing in my head, I pressed my face against one of the doors. This one was open. There was no snarling. But there was muffled screaming, and traces of life. Heartbeats. Not whatever the fuck I was. "Hey, what did I just say?" the guy's tone darkened when my fingers grasped the handle. I sensed his head snapping up, toes curling in the carpet.
He was behind me in a matter of seconds. He was too close. A shiver skittered down my spine and ignited my blood, a dull pain gnawing in my mouth. I could sense his breaths, every movement he was going to make. "That's not a good idea. We're not allowed to go in there. It's the rules."
Rules.
My mouth was on fire. I couldn't think straight. I had no fucking reflection. The only way I could stop myself from sucking the blood off of my hand, was figuring out where the fuck I was– and this guy – this animal with a human boy's face – wanted me to follow rules?
I pushed the door open, stepping inside.
"Your funeral," the kid muttered in a sing-song voice. But he did follow me into the room. A large bedroom filled with king-size beds. Where the fuck was I?
There were no windows.
No sunlight or traces of a sky either lit up or drowned in darkness. There was just artificial light I felt the need to hide away from. Like I was staring directly into the sun. Sitting on one of the beds, cross legged on scarlet sheets, was a girl and a boy. Tied back to back. The girl's eyes were wide, frantic, shuffling in her restraints. While the guy sat perfectly still, his eyes rolling back and forth, head jolting, like he couldn't keep himself awake. There were at least four layers of duct tape over their mouths.
I took a single step forward. The girl stiffened, and the guy tipped his head back to get a closer look. I saw a flash of silver, what looked like ice, creeping across his forehead and dying a single streak of hair white. The girl's body jerked, a white strip spreading across the duct tape. Her breath, I realized.
Another step, and their eyes tracked my movement, the two of them shuffling uncomfortably. "Woah there," the kid held me back when I started forwards with the intention to untie them. "We're breaking the rules just by being in here, and you want to play let's-be-fucking- best friends with the fresh newbies?"
"Newbie?"
The guy sighed. "Yes. Newbie. I was the first one awake, so naturally, I'm in charge of all of you. " he strode over to the two of them, climbed into the bed, and shuffled over to the girl. She didn't react, her eyes still glued to me. The kid ripped off the layers of duct tape over her mouth, and she didn't even flinch.
Before I could speak, he leaned closer. "Yep. Just as I thought. She's not done." he slapped the tape back over her mouth, and the girl made a whimpering sound. Moving onto the guy, the kid was more hesitant, instead prodding at the boy's neck. He wafted his finger like he was contagious, and I caught a singular ice crystal on his index. "He's almost done. I'll give him a few more hours."
When the boy snarled at him, lunging forward, I noticed twin pricks in the duct-tape gag. He'd bitten through it.
"Not good," he turned to me. "Did I leave any duct tape in the bathroom?"
It took me a moment to reply, especially with the way his eyes were frenzied, flicking back and forth between the two on the bed. His expression significantly darkened, jaw tightening. "What is it?"
He didn't look at me. "I don't think I'm allowed to tell you."
"This is Big Brother," the voice sliced into me, a shiver creeping down my spine. The two on the bed didn't react to the voice. They were still staring at me.
"Now you've done it," The guy muttered.
"Sam, please make your way to the diary room. If you continue to break the rules, we will be taking necessary measures to ensure everyone's safety."
"Big Brother," I spoke slowly, my brain struggling to register. "Like… The reality show."
"Duh," the kid said, "The memory loss thing is getting old, though," he nudged me, and it felt familiar. "Judging by your state though, I'm not surprised. You're half raw and burnt on one side." Before I could reply, he turned me around and shoved me back through the door. "Go talk to 'em. I'll entertain the newbies. Just don't piss them off, all right?" I stumbled, and he caught me, easily guiding me down the hallway.
I wasn't expecting him to get close, his nonexistent breath in my ear. He stunk of rot. So cold. His presence sent goosebumps prickling across my arms. "Look to the right if you can hear me," he said, maintaining his composure. "There are cameras fucking everywhere, and if I start looking around, they'll know something is up."
I panicked, navigating my gaze toward the wall.
"That's the left, idiot."
Switching my eye movement, he let out a relieved breath. "They're hiding something from us," he hummed. "Things like this don't just happen, and they just tell us not to panic, like I didn't wake up fucking dead in the swimming pool with no memory and some fucked up teeth." Maybe I was imagining his breath grazing the back of my neck. "Find what they're hiding."
We stopped in front of a sliding door. The kid was gone before I could turn around. I had no choice, slipping inside a dark room filmed with cameras, a plush chair in the middle. When I collapsed into it, that same voice slipped inside my head. "Hello, Sam."
I didn't reply until I was forcibly coerced to speak. I got four rounds of, "Hello, Sam." Before I gave up and spat out a greeting.
"How are you feeling, Sam?"
"Like shit."
"Big Brother has asked you to come to the diary room so we can reveal important information regarding the outside world and the current state of the house and its seven house guests."
I nodded slowly. Dizzily. "Does it have something to do with me not having a reflection?"
"Yes, Sam."
I took a deep breath. "I didn't apply to be on this. There's been a mistake."
A pause.
"Sam, you applied for Big Brother US on October 23rd, 2011, via the website. You were shortlisted on February 4th 2012, and officially entered the house on July 16th, 2012."
I shook my head.
No, my girlfriend was obsessed with Big Brother. She would apply, not me. The dates didn't match either.
Girlfriend.
The realization sent shivers down my spine. I had a girlfriend.
Just like my roommate, she was nothing to me.
Just a shadow, a splinter in my mind.
"Sam, this information may be distressing," the voice made me jump. "Do you want us to continue?"
I nodded.
"On September 6th 2012, two weeks ago, the first reported case of Cold fever was reported. Also known as the Vryko virus, taken from the Greek word Vrykolakas, the virus first emerged in Reykjavik, in Iceland, and soon spread to neighbouring countries. It was declared a public health emergency by the CDC, followed by a pandemic, after cases were reported in key countries around the world."
The voice paused for me to take this in– and I was. I was just struggling to figure out how this thing had spread globally after being found in Iceland of all places. "Sam, the Vryko virus does not work like influenza or SARS. The mode of transmission is bodily fluids. It is spread through the puncturing of the flesh from an infected individual's teeth. Infected people are reported to have undergone physical changes, such as developing a specific gland that is usually found in spiders and scorpions– as well as significantly sharper teeth."
"You're talking about a bite." I said, when a screen flashed on. I was seeing empty cities, news screens all screaming about the so-called cold fever.
They ignored me. "Symptoms include: Dizziness and memory loss, nausea and vomiting, heightened senses and the collapse of the physical self (such as your appearance in the mirror and photos), aggression, and in later symptoms, a rapidly falling temperature that freezes your blood. If you're lucky, you will reject the virus and your body will go into shock, before freezing over. If Vyroklasas successfully takes over the infected host, the body is shut down so it can survive the body temperature, while said person will experience extreme symptoms of thirst and aggression. As symptoms persist, the infected become harder to reason with, and will grow increasingly more animal-like." they paused. "Sam, you may have noticed these specific–"
"I'm a vampire." I said, cutting her off.
"Vampire is the common word for the infected," the voice said. "Due to the similarity in symptoms related to the undead mythical creature, infected individuals are known as… vampires."
I felt like I was going to throw up.
"Several days ago, we made the decision to keep you quarantined inside the house. However, we were not aware the virus was already inside here. And it has spread amongst house guests. Sam, you are infected. However, your symptoms are progressing much slower. House guests are currently being kept under observation. If you fail to show significant symptoms in the next three days, you will be taken from quarantine. If you do, you will die with the six other houseguests infected."
I leaned forward. "Die?" I managed to get out. "What about my family?"
I didn't understand.
Why wasn't I crying? Why did I feel nothing?
"Big Brother does not have any current information on your family's condition. I am sorry, Sam. We're stuck here too. This series was never televised originally, before the cold fever, due to circumstances we cannot talk about."
"Then why are you still doing that voice?"
They paused.
"It makes me feel normal." I heard just the slightest splinter of humanity in that monotone drawl. "Sam, if you choose to tell your fellow houseguests the truth about the outside world, we will have no choice but to kill you too. We do not need you alive to extract brain tissue."
I didn't realize I'd knocked the chair over until I was on my knees, breathing deeply into my lap. My mouth was aching, my teeth throbbing. It felt like something was trying to protrude from my gums. "If it makes you feel better, the other houseguests have a little over a day before their symptoms persist. You can leave now, Sam. Please stay away from the main bedroom."
I did, picking up the stair and then kicking it over again.
When I left the room, I found myself face to face with the kid.
I should stop calling him a kid. He was 19 or 20. I was 21.
I caught ice glistening on his upper lip. He smiled a fanged grin, and twisted around, leading me back to the bedroom– or at least the door. "I think they're sleeping," he leaned against the wall, fixing me with a look. "Well?"
I could only send him a questioning look, before he sighed. "Relax. There's no cameras down here." his lip quirked. "Let me guess," he kept his voice down, loudly coughing. "We're currently in a global pandemic that destroyed the world, a so-called cold fever turning people into vampires— you're the only one who's immune, and you can't tell us. Oh, and that they're one-shotting all of us."
His words slammed into me, waves of ice cold water coming over me. "How do you know that?"
He shrugged. "Because they told me that too." he frowned down at his blood spattered sweatshirt. "Three days ago, when I was still relatively normal, those assholes told me I was immune. That my body was too warm, something about my bone marrow being valuable, blah, blah, blah." he smirked, settling me with an uneasy grin, stained fangs and all. Behind us, an animalistic shriek jolted my body. I had to bite down on my lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to seek out the threat. This thing was taking over fast.
I swallowed what felt like ice crystals slowly forming in the back of my throat.
The kid's eyes were dark, and I was reminded of the final stage of the cold fever.
"And look at me now."
…
So, to add, YES I got out of this… situation. But holy shit was 2013 a rough year. It took me four straight months of therapy to understand we were NOT in a global vampire pandemic.

Hello all - Last December, I caught a respiratory virus (not COVID), which resulted in only a cough. I visited doctors who prescribed antibiotics, nasal spray, cough pearls, etc., but I still had a lingering cough and allergy-like symptoms for two months.
Fast forward, I had an x-ray done - all good. I then went to see a pulmonologist, and she prescribed Breo Ellipta for a month along with a nasal spray. She said I may have minimal “reactive airway disease”
Initially, Breo caused me anxiety, heart palpitations, a scratchy throat, and I experienced mucus coming up for a few days.
After finishing the month-long dose, since I am traveling to Argentina in a few days, I asked my doctor to prescribe it as a backup until I return to the US.
My question is, once you finish the prescribed month-long dose, can you take it on an as-needed basis? I initially took it for a cough and somewhat wheezing, but I don't want to be taking steroids for too long. The only reason I have it is as a backup when traveling.
Any suggestions or tips are appreciated. Thank you!