I am a 41 year old female. I’m 5’3 and 140lbs. No surgical history. Im not on any medication. Baseline HR runs high in the 100’s and my blood pressure runs on the low side. Recent cholesterol tests are all within normal healthy ranges. I’m a registered nurse. I suffer from pretty bad anxiety. My health anxiety has worsened after losing my mother to a sudden heart attack and then needing to be on ECMO and ultimately dying.
Three days ago I woke up with a very stiff neck on my left side and pain in my upper back and shoulder. Again all my left side. Can you see where this is going? Haha it’s made worse by lying on that side and turning my neck to the left and certain movements but it’s always present as a dull ache for the past 3 days.
I know the signs of a heart attack. I know when I would need to go to the hospital. I’m just terrified everything is cardiac related now after losing my mom. I did a fair amount of gardening and yard work and I think that it’s prob a pulled muscle of some sort. I used a heat pack and that seems to help a lot.
I’m consumed with the fear that I’m going to die like my mom. I talk to a therapist about this but it’s still so difficult.
Is this most likely a pulled muscle? I have no other cardiac symptoms (no non typical, “women” heart attack symptoms either) I’m a nurse so I know I cannot be guaranteed that if someone says I’m prob fine that I won’t drop dead tomorrow from heart attack haha but I’m looking for even a shred of reassurance to help me back from my anxiety ledge.
I really appreciate any input.

Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for the NOP Universe.
Hey, I hope everyone's doing well!
Today we return to the namesake of this fic, an actual lesson about animals. This one focuses on Koalas! One of Australia's most recognisable critters. I hope you enjoy.
It's hardly worth mentioning, seeing as I'm an infrequent poster at the best of times, but I'll not have another chapter out for a few weeks due to limited free time and devoting most of my writing time to an upcoming ficnapping. Be sure to look out for that!
[First] [Previous] [Next]
Memory transcription subject: Rysel, Venlil Environmental Researcher
Date [Standardised human time]: 8th September 2136
“Koalas!”
Bernard’s energised voice boomed through the air as the classroom's monitor flickered into life, images of this paws lecture topic popping up one after the other until the entire screen was filled with a collage of furry quadrupeds.
Squee! I’ll never get tired of this, it’s all so cool!
As usual the sight of something new stirred immediate discussion, hushed murmurs swelling into vibrant discourse in little more than a heartbeat. Most of the class swiftly huddled together into small herds to bounce ideas around while the rest opted to stick to the solace of their own thoughts as they took in the display.
I’d be quite happy in either situation, though seeing as Sandi had already sunk into deep concentration and Kailo had peeled off to talk with Ennerif and Solenk, it seemed the decision had been made for me on this occasion. Wasting no more time on idle inspection of the people around me, I focused my full attention forward, eager to form first impressions before the lesson began in earnest.
Now then, time to make some educated guesses. What traits does this animal have? I wonder if I’ll get any right this paw?
Professional assumptions went paw-in-paw with the lectures, examining and coming up with hypotheses about the specimens was only natural. Recently however, I’d started to make a little game of it to make things even more interesting than usual. A veritable bonfire of ideas had been set ablaze within me, fueled by my newfound knowledge of Earthen wildlife. Every flash and spark of the flame was a fresh theory I could try to apply to the lectures. It was an invigorating exercise that further stoked my unceasing wonderment.
So far I’d only done this once during the previous class and, to my disappointment, I’d not done too well.
I was right when I guessed that chickens were omnivores, but wrong in my assumption that they could fly. And that red thing on their head, the um… what was it called? The comb! Yes, the comb. I thought that was to attract mates, but it regulates body heat instead. It’s fascinating. Oh! Stars damn it I’m rambling!
I bapped my tail against my leg, the soft thud being just enough to snap me back from my runaway thoughts before I went completely wall-eyed. I was becoming more and more accustomed to getting lost in my own head while remaining conscious of the fact; it was happening so frequently now that it was pretty much impossible not to. Now I was able to pull myself back to the world around me without having to rely on someone else shaking me out of it. Most of the time anyway.
Sandi still keeps an eye on me, and Kailo even decided to help out once without being too snide about it. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah, Koalas.
Glancing at the furred animals, two things immediately stood out. Firstly, their eyes were in a more central position on their face. And second, all the images showed them being on or close to trees. There were other noteworthy observations of course, such as the Koala’s prominent nose and rounded features, but they fell to the wayside as I honed in on these points first.
Hmmm… ok. I already know to discount the idea that they’re predators just from eye position, so let’s get that thought out of here. Maybe omnivorous? Herbivore? Agh no, I can’t just guess that for the sake of guessing, that’s the same problem! Hrm, it’s tough making these assumptions now that everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head.
Nevermind, I’ll focus on the other thing. All the trees make me think they’re arboreal, that seems to be a reasonable assumption. I wonder what else they-
Clearing his throat, Bernard broke my concentration, his call for attention silencing the murmuring conversation and redirecting everyone's focus to the lecturer's podium.
His gaze panned across the room as he waited for everyone to settle, a beaming smile lighting up his face, “As ever I’m delighted to see you all get so into the subject matter from the get go. I’m looking forward to hearing what you were discussing should you wish to share. For now though, how about we get started, hm?”
A chorus of merry bleats rang out from across the audience, ears and tails flicking happily in agreement. Bernard's grin grew in tandem with the class's fervour, clasping his hands together enthusiastically as he launched into the lesson, “Excellent! Then let’s get started.”
The pictures on screen dissolved away until only one remained, enlarging to cover the entire monitor with the fluffy grey face of a Koala peacefully reclining in the crook of a tree.
“Ah, there we are,” Bernard’s baritone timbre drifted through the room as he looked up at the image, his own tone reflecting the relaxed attitude of the animal on screen, “He looks so comfortable doesn’t he? Perfectly at peace with the world, not too surprising considering they sleep almost 20 hours a day. A full paw!”
A wave of beeps and gasps rippled through the herd, punctuated by a single yawn-dressed comment from Rova, “A full paw? Hwuuu… jealous.”
Her drowsy remark elicited several whistling giggles from the herd, Bernard's own jovial chortle joining them as he turned to face her, “Late evening Rova?”
I twisted a little in my seat, panning an eye in Rova’s direction just in time to see her bleary eyes bulge open and her ears shoot up, now intensely aware of the fact she hadn’t been as quiet as she thought she had.
Sitting up abruptly, she hastily tapped down errant tufts of wool that’d flared in surprise as she composed herself, though her nervousness at becoming the centre of the class's attention was still plain for all to hear, “Uh- I um… achem, a little bit yes, um- …sorry. Lokki dragged me out to a movie viewing in the rec centre. It went on pretty late.”
A melodramatic bray from the other side of the room drew everyone's ears away from Rova to the now aghast Lokki, paw splayed across his chest in faux indignation, “Dragged you? Well excuse me for trying to broaden your horizons with human movies. That’ll be the list time I- …Ahaaaa…”
Lokki’s theatrics were cut short by a heavy yawn of his own, a swell of whistling laughter rolling through the herd as vibrant bloom lit up his snout, a sight that elicited a particularly amused bleat from Rova.
Turning away from the duo I looked back at Bernard, pleased to see that he was chuckling along with us. Behaviour like Lokki’s would never have been tolerated in my school and university days but, in stark contrast, Bernard revelled in it, the liveliness of his students fueling his own bombastic style of teaching. It was a pleasant change of pace having a teacher who let us all be ourselves in class; provided we weren’t too disruptive to the lesson plan.
Speaking of which.
His laughter still rumbling through the air, Bernard clapped his hands to pull everyone's focus back to him, “Ok, ok, let’s get back to it then shall we? Rova. Lokki. Hopefully the two of you can stay awake long enough until you can grab yourselves a coffee.”
As the class settled down and the last few giggling beeps petered out, Benard pointed a hand to the screen, “So, the Koala. Let’s start simple shall we? They are herbivorous marsupials native to the eastern and southern coasts of Australia. Easily recognised the world over, they are a well known and beloved symbol of their homeland, along with other animals such as the Kangaroo and the Emu. The former of which you might remember from one of our earlier lectures.”
Indeed I did remember, along with how angry Bernard had gotten after some speh-head had derided the Yotul after he explained how he held specific disdain for such attitudes.
Uuuggghh… I never want to see him angry again. So chilling.
I shook my ears in an effort to dismiss the unpleasant memory, panning my eyes back to the monitor to try and distract myself by inspecting the Koala’s physical appearance once more. Thankfully, by some Star's blessed intervention, Bernard had the exact same idea.
“Koala’s are rather squat in stature, ranging around sixty to eighty-five centimetres in length and weighing little more than fifteen to sixteen kilograms at their full size. As you can see, the fur of this fellow before you is a lovely silvery grey, but their fur can also sport a chocolaty brown hue as well. Arguably the most distinctive part of their appearance is their head, being rather large for their body size and having rounded ears, a large nose, and a pair of small eyes. These are often brown but variations do occur.”
It didn’t slip past my notice that Bernard didn’t bother to point out that the Koala’s eyes were forward facing. I didn’t think he’d simply forgotten, so perhaps he just felt it wasn’t necessary given that he’d already stated it was herbivorous. Either way, no one stuck up a paw or tail to question him.
“Now this will hardly be surprising considering how long they sleep, but Koala’s are largely sedentary and it’s rather easy to see why when you have a look into the contents of their diet.”
With the press of a button the Koala on screen was replaced by images of vibrant green vegetation. Soaring trees and flowering shrubbery weaved together across landscape framed pictures pulled admiring trills from the herd, the diversity of the plant life being shown standing as a reminder that it wasn’t only animal life that flourished on Earth.
After giving everyone the chance to take in the picturesque scenes, Bernard casually hammered that point home, “This is eucalyptus or, more accurately, a choice selection of more than 700 plants belonging to the eucalyptus genus, though the Koala itself favours 30 of them in particular.”
700!? Stars…
Realising that my ears had drooped in my momentary awe, I twisted them back to tune into the lesson, only for them to splay out in shock at the next words to come out of Bernard's mouth.
“The leaves of these plants are the primary food source of the Koala and there are a couple things worth mentioning when talking about these plants. For starters they do not have much nutritional or caloric value, leading to the Koala’s low-energy lifestyle. Additionally, they contain toxic compounds.”
A shiver instantly ran through the herd, ears flicking rapidly in confusion and alarm followed by a few quizzical whispers. It didn’t take long for someone to decide to give a proper voice to the murmuring.
“Excuse me Doctor. Did we hear that right? Their diet is made up of toxic flora?” Vlek’s grumbling incredulity cut through the herd's mutterings with ease. Until Kailo’s recent change of heart, the fifty something rotation old blonde Venlil had been a close second in terms of scepticism. Mercifully his rebuttals had always been relevant questions as opposed to ranting diatribes, so he at least remained on topic if nothing else.
Bernard nodded in confirmation, smiling back at Vlek while absentmindedly twirling the end of his moustache, “You heard me right, they do indeed consume plants that are toxic. Just not to them.”
Any worry or uncertainty still clinging to the herd was swept away by the provision of the glaringly obvious answer, leaving me chuckling inwardly at the oversight.
Ah of course! The plant might be poisonous but they’ll have evolved to deal with that. Stars… I’m so used to expecting the unexpected with Earth that I didn’t even consider the simplest solution.
“I see, thank you Doctor,” Vlek replied, a tinge of interest still audible in his tone, “I assume they’ve developed some adaptation to become immune to the harmful effects?”
The question immediately evoked a smirk from our teacher, but he hurriedly suppressed it while bobbing his head, “They have indeed. There are several factors that aid in their digestion of eucalyptus leaves without succumbing to the plant's baleful properties. The first is a part of the intestinal tract called the cecum. It contains a microbiome that allows the Koala to digest the eucalyptus. Coupled with this is an enzyme in the Koala’s liver that helps them break down the toxins. They are also capable of sniffing out the plants with the least amount of toxins, ensuring that they ingest as little as possible.”
Pausing for a breath Bernard looked back at the screen before turning to face us, another grin curling at the edges of his mouth as he continued with his explanation, “This is mostly for adult Koala’s, because while their young also possess these same adaptations, they don’t just go straight to munching through foliage right after being born. No, they need a little help making that jump and getting a stomach full of all that good gut bacteria. It’s nothing bad, but those of a sensitive stomach may wish to prepare themselves for this next part.”
Bernard’s assurances did little to assuage the concern that his warning had foisted upon us. Having been exposed to so much of the weirdness Earth had to offer everyone always ended up on edge whenever Bernard gave advice like this, even if he did say it in jest.
What strange nonsense thing do Koala pups do then? Judging by the way he’s acting it probably isn’t something as simple as drinking milk from the mother. Hmmm…
“So,” Bernard began, snapping us from our pensive stupor, “Young Koala’s, known as joeys, have a gestation period of thirty-five days on average, which is approximately forty-two paws. Once born they travel from the birth canal to a pouch in their mother so that they can continue to develop and grow. In the pouch the joey finds and latches onto one of two teats and these provide the newborn with a steady stream of nourishing milk. It spends the next six to seven months growing in the pouch, its eyes, ears, and fur all developing as time goes on.”
Okay, interesting. But this is exactly how I thought it’d go. What’s different?
The unexpected normalcy of the Koala’s birth and growth cycle had calmed everyone's nerves, only to be replaced with an air of suspicion as we waited with rapt attention for Bernard to drop the other claw and upend our expectations like he always did.
Not wanting to keep us in further suspense he forged ahead, the tempo of his voice picking up as the smile started to crease his face once more, “Now to make the switch from milk to eucalyptus, the mother also feeds the joey a substance called pap. It comes from the cecum I mentioned earlier, and contains all the gut bacteria required to help the young Koala in making the switch to eucalyptus.”
He stopped and looked around, searching us for a reaction to what I felt was a rather bland statement of fact. What was it he was saying without actually saying? Koala pups drink milk to mature and then include this pap substance so that they can start eating plants. I don’t see what-
The cecum is part of the intestine.
I blinked.
I blinked again, the intrusive interruption scouring my brain clean of any other thought bar the one it’d just implanted itself in the forefront of my mind.
Oh stars. They-
“They eat their own poop!?”
The shocked bleat shattered the peace of the room to reveal that most if not all of us had come to the same tail curling conclusion. As the hall filled with unrestrained vocalisations of disgust, an ‘Ugh’ over here and a ‘Blegh’ over there, Bernard’s own bellowing laughter joined the throng of voices.
“Ha! Everytime! Each and every time. Clearly it doesn’t matter if my students are Human or Venlil. Whenever someone learns about the Koala’s dietary development the reaction is the same!”
Pleased with himself beyond reason, Bernard chuckled away while the rest of us grappled with this ghastly reality. While there were plenty of animals that feasted on things that ranged from simply unappealing all the way to the stomach churningly grotesque, I’d never heard of an animal that actively consumed the excrement of its own species. Benefits aside, the prospect of having to do that to survive to adulthood sent a shiver of revulsion down my spine.
Ewww… Stars, I hope I forget this feeling by 2nd meal. They’re serving sturen and magamroot stew later. I was really looking forward to it.
With the herds mood beginning to temper Bernard tapped the podiums controls, removing the verdant collage of eucalyptus to display several similar yet distinct environments, still chortling merrily to himself in the process, “Ok then, with that little foray into their diet complete, why don’t we look at their habitat in more detail? As you might imagine given their diet and arboreal nature, Koala’s live in forested regions, and can be found in tropical and temperate zones. About a century ago they were classed as a vulnerable species, however efforts were made to turn this around and increase their numbers. Sadly the largest factor in their decline was human activity, as the fertile lands that gave rise to their bountiful forests were coveted farm land for our settlements.”
It was strange to hear Bernard so matter of factly admit to humanity's negative impacts on other species. He’d alluded to such things in the past but always with an air of caution, carefully pawing the line between honestly answering a question while not painting humanity as uncaring and destructive. AKA, the ‘predators’ we’d all initially expected them to be.
Perhaps his comfort in making such admissions was a reflection of the class's comfort with him, for no one so much as batted an ear. Even Kailo, who I would’ve expected to jump at the chance to use this as a prime example of predatory danger, only flicked an ear in stern yet silent concern.
A cough from Bernard drew my attention back, a new picture on screen that showed a forest from a bird's-eye view. Drawn across the image were around a dozen ringed areas, some bordering one another while others overlapped to some degree. It took me a moment, but I soon recognised that what I was looking at was a map, the rings representing what I assumed to be territories. And it didn’t take much effort to guess who each one belonged to.
“From habitats we move onto behaviours, so let’s start with territories. Koala’s are solitary animals. Yes, despite being herbivores. Considering they’re only awake for roughly four hours of the day I can hardly blame them. Lots to do and not a lot of time to do it. Jokes aside, once they mature they are quite independent, carving out a little slice of land for themselves, as displayed in this example, called a Home Range. That is not to say they go it alone and leave everything else behind however. Rather, as shown in the map behind me, they live in their own space while still being part of a larger social group.”
With another press of his pad the picture was updated to show one of two symbols in each segment, along with a key to the side of the map displayed in helpful Venlang. A quick glance told me that the symbols were representing whether the territory belonged to a male or female of the species.
“As you can see there is quite a bit of overlap between different Koala’s territories. It is in these areas that most of the socialising takes place between neighbours. The trees in these locations represent the few areas where intrusion across territories is acceptable for the sake of social interaction. Outside of that the Koala’s stick to their own territories for the most part, with the exceptions of Koala’s who are passing through, attempting to become part of the social group themselves, or dominant males who sometimes go off into another Koala’s range. But how do they know where one range begins and another range ends you might ask? Well, this brings us onto the next part of the lecture. How do Koala’s communicate?”
Wiping away the map from the monitor, Bernard loaded up a video of a Koala sitting in a tree and pressed play. Head held high, the Koala’s body shook as it belted out a reverberating call into the wilderness that could only be described as a garbled combination of a car engine failing to turn over mixed with the hiccups of someone with a particularly sore throat.
That’s how they sound? Oof that must be rough on the lungs.
I clearly wasn’t the only one to share such a thought, because I clocked Sandi tracing a paw along her neck as the noise went on, ears fluttering in discomfort at the noise.
Bernard himself cleared his own throat as the video came to an end, minimising it and replacing it with another image of a tree with a Koala rubbing up against the bark, “I think they’ve got me beat on who’s got the deeper voice!”
His joke garnered several amused beeps, a rare reaction that caused a beaming smile to shine across his face at lighting speed, “Oh you’re too kind. I’ll be here all week. Now where were we? Oh yes! Communication. As you’ve just heard, Koala’s are capable of loud low pitched bellows that can carry over vast distances. These express everything from ‘Hello I’m over here’ to ‘This is my turf, stay away’. Bellowing is more common in the males than the females, opting for shouting matches as opposed to outright fights when it comes to asserting dominance. Other vocal expressions include grunts, wails, and snarls if they’re acting particularly angsty. Mother and joey pairs also communicate through gentle clicking, squeaking, and murmuring sounds. And there’s one more thing worth mentioning. Something they have in common with Humans and Venlil when it comes to emoting.”
Really? They do something we do?
Curious, I pressed myself against the desk, straining as close as I could to once more scrutinise the Koala’s features. Not a lot stood out to me at first, the grey marsupial not sharing many similarities with a Venlil that I could identify.
Ok think. We show emotion with our ears, tails, and our wool on occasion. They don’t have tails so it’s obviously not that. Wool standing on end is more a reaction than a conscious expression. So it must be the ears then.
To my quiet satisfaction, my hunch was soon validated by Bernard, “As well as their vocalisations, Koala’s are very emotive through their facial features. Just like humans, they use their mouths and lips to show how they feel, but these tend more towards the aggressive side of the scale than what you might see on a human. Regarding yourselves however, Koala’s utilise their ears in tandem with their mouth movements when showing strong emotion.”
I was delighted to hear that my assumption was correct, a little happy flick twisting out through my tail and bapping against my chair with a muted thump against the plastic.
Hehe yes! Got one right!
“Now then, we are getting close to lunchtime so I’ll finish this segment off with something I think you’ll find particularly interesting. Diplomacy.”
Perplexed mutterings followed in the wake of the bizarre inclusion to the lecture, my own thoughts being dominated by bewilderment as I tried and failed to make sense of how the two could possibly be related.
Why would Koala’s, or any animal for that matter, be linked to diplomacy? Hmmm...
I could understand dispatching exterminators to deal with a predator issue as a show of goodwill, that at least includes animals, but Humans aren’t like that so I think I can safely scratch that off the list.
Maybe the humans who live in that region benefited from Koala’s in some way. Could they have gotten something from them? But what?
Hopefully not what the pups get from their mothers.
Agh no! Begone awful intrusive thoughts. Blegh! I don’t need that in my head.
As I wrestled with the short-lived revulsion inflicted upon me by my Star's damned subconscious, Bernard placed a new image on screen, one that was decidedly different from all that had preceded it.
On screen were more than a couple dozen pictures of humans. Some were pictured alone while others congregated in large groups while cameras surrounded them from all angles. Across all the images, I noted two common themes. First of all, a solid majority of the humans were wearing formal wear similar to what I’d seen worn by UN representatives on TV. If the gaggle of journalists in the background of the photos didn’t already confirm my suspicions, then it was this similarity which made me conclude they were all people of some importance. Likely politicians judging from context clues.
Secondly, each of the individuals was interacting with a Koala in some form. Some cradled one against their chests while others were feeding it eucalyptus leaves or pellets of some kind. One of the assumed politicians had become an impromptu bed for a snoozing bundle of fur, a gleeful smile spread across their face as they lovingly gazed down at the sleeping Koala in their lap.
As I continued to stare at the assorted photos something clicked into place, a sudden spark flickering into life. A burgeoning light of comprehension that flared and swelled with every wide-eyed breath I took. Some things still escaped me, things I hoped would soon be explained, but in staring at all of the humans happy smiling faces, I was struck with an instant of pure understanding.
If someone, say a Nevok for instance, offered to gift me a creature that was common to them but which might exotic and breathtaking to a Venlil, how could my feelings not be swayed? How could I walk away from that encounter and not have grown closer to them as a result?
“Koala diplomacy,” Bernard waved his hand up at the monitor, a slight reverence in his tone, “My favourite kind of soft power diplomacy. Where political leaders take photo ops with Koala’s and, on occasion, the Australian government loans Koala’s to other nations for a time to bolster positive relations. It certainly helps that Koala’s are a beloved animal worldwide, drawing large crowds and revenue for countries fortunate enough to host the adorable critters.”
The truly alien concept predictably sparked instant discussion in the herd, two polar opposite schools of thought swiftly cementing themselves as the most popular opinions. Simultaneously, I heard one voice trill excitedly while another scoffed at what they clearly saw as a ridiculous and offensive notion.
“Squee! That’d be so cool! I’d love to get the chance to see a Liri from Coila. Remember the Rainbow Boa? Think of that shimmering effect and colour but put it on a bird! Ah! I’ve only heard their song on video. It’d be a treat to hear it in person!”
Ooo! I’ve read about them! I’d love to get up close to one.
“Loaning. As if animals are property to be hoarded and traded? Pugh! Another predatory trait the humans don’t want to acknowledge for what it is.”
Ugh, typical. Jump right to the worst possible option.
However, despite my dismissal of their disparaging fumings, an uncomfortable thought pressed upon my mind. While it was plain to see how much humans cared for the Koala, it didn’t change the fact that humans did keep animals as property just as the scornful herd member had said.
This begged a rather important, disquieting question. Aside from keeping some animals as cattle, a stomach tightening minefield I had no desire to step a claw onto right now, how else did humans keep other creatures. And how did they treat them?
Before I was fully conscious of doing it my paw was in the air, the question primed on my tongue.
Noticing my elevated paw Bernard pointed at me, smiling warmly, “Yes Rysel? What’s on your mind?”
Sorry Bernard. I hope this one’s not too awkward for you to answer.
Flicking my ear in appreciation, and waiting for everyone to settle enough so that I could be heard, I voiced my concerns as neutrally as possible, “Thank you Doctor. I uh, just had a thought. We know that humans keep certain animals for… particular reasons, and we know why. From how you’ve spoken about Koala’s I think it's fair to say that the same cannot be said for them. However, this makes me wonder, what other reasons do humans have for keeping animals and how do you treat them?”
A flash of surprise blinked across Bernard's eyes but vanished so quickly that it felt like I’d imagined it. Had he not expected such a question? Maybe he was just shocked that it’d been me who’d ended up asking it?
Stars, am I so predictable that no one expects me to ask difficult questions?
Unfortunately, a quick glance at my deskmates seemed to prove that to be the case, as both Sandi and Kailo were looking at me with differing degrees of astonishment flapping in their ears.
Well speh.
“A very good point Rysel, certainly one that’s worth raising. Yet another example of you all anticipating what I have to say before I can bring it up myself.” Bernard tapped the podium, switching off the monitor before returning his focus to me, “We won’t be needing that. I’ve nothing prepared that I can show you and we’re heading to lunch in a few minutes anyway. Still, that’s plenty of time to give you a bit of an answer.”
A bit? What does he mean just a bit?
Made even more curious by Bernard's preempted admission that he wasn’t going to fully answer my query, I dialled both my ears on him, fixing him with an inquisitive stare as he started to explain with a tone that was noticeably more nonchalant than any of his previous explanations.
“So, animals in captivity for reasons other than what you already know. Honestly I would love to delve into other reasons regarding why we keep animals. However, I have a lesson plan in the works that I hope to share with you all in the not too distant future. Some of it touches upon this very topic and I’d quite like to bundle it all together. That said, I can tell you how animals in captivity are treated. In short, the answer is very well. There are a mountain of laws both on private and public interests that govern the standards and ethical treatment of animals, and breaches of these laws are quite severe even for relatively minor infractions.”
While I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed by the vague answer to what was really the bulk of my question, I was at least satisfied by Bernard’s assurances that animals in captivity, such as the Koala, were well looked after. Considering the barely subdued grumbling coming from some corners of the audience it was clear that several of the herd didn’t believe Bernard outright, but I trusted him to be honest. Additionally, the mention of an upcoming lecture focused on humans keeping animals caused quite the buzz.
I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at exploring the topic further. He’d pretty much confirmed we wouldn’t be talking about cattle farms, for which I was relieved, but that still left a huge amount of uncertainty in what was to come.
Humans keeping animals as cattle was a forgone conclusion. As horrifying as that reality was, it was one I could understand from a detached and strictly clinical point of view. Being predators they ate meat and therefore they kept cattle. But the concept of keeping animals for any other reason baffled me.
What could be the purpose? The diplomacy thing makes sense now that I have context, but what other reasons could they have.
The class's discussions were interrupted by the recognisable ring of the break bell, the shift in attention eliciting a change in conversation from confused hypotheses to peppy conversation on how everyone was planning to spend their break and what they had in mind for 2nd meal.
“Well I can see everyone’s excited for lunch, and who am I to disappoint,” chuckling Bernard waved us all up from our seats, pocketing his pad from the podium and heading to open the classroom door for us, “Enjoy your break, get a good rest along with a hearty meal, and I’ll see you all back here at the usual time.”
As everyone else filed out I stayed behind, waving at Sandi and Kailo as they left, and pawing over to Bernard once he and I were the only ones left in the room.
Ears folded down and with an apologetic tinge in my voice I greeted him as I sidled up to him, “Hey Bernard, I uh… sorry if that last question was unexpected.”
Chortling in reply, Bernard waved a hand through the air in a sign I’d come to understand meant ‘not a problem’.
“No need to apologise Rysel. It was a good question and most certainly not a problem.”
Heh, called it.
I sighed, allowing tension I didn’t realise I’d been holding to relax itself from my shoulders, “Phew, that’s a relief. I’m glad. I’m curious to hear what this new lesson is you’ve got in store for us by the way.”
Bernard wagged a finger at me, throwing up his eyebrows in mock amazement, “Oh are you now? Well I’m afraid you’ll have to remain curious for the time being. It’s going to be quite the surprise if all goes to plan. But…”
He trailed off, glancing at me before looking to the door like he was making sure no one else was around.
Wait, is he going to tell me? Oh please yes let me know now!
Stopping myself from jumping on the spot in excited anticipation, and trying my damndest to stop my tail from wagging in equal measure, I stared up at Bernard as he stewed in his thoughts before turning back to face me.
“I can’t tell you the specifics, but I’m working with Alejandro and Tolim to get something together. A trip that’s not a trip as it were. And when it happens, I’m going to need a few of the more accepting members of the class to lend me a hand. I’m hoping you and a couple others will be able to help with that?”
A trip that’s not a trip? What does that mean? Agh who cares about that right now! Bernard’s relying on me to help out!
Still trying not to keep myself from bouncing around with pup like glee I swished my tail and nodded my head in joint agreement, happy to help with whatever Bernard had in store for us, “Of course! Anything you need I’ll be there to lend a paw. You can count on me!”
A broad warm smile lit up Bernard's face, a hand patting me on the shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you Rysel. I knew I could rely on you but it still warms my heart to hear it. And, as thanks for this and for the many times you’ve shown your support, the surprise includes a little something special I think you’d appreciate the most.”
If my earlier enthusiasm had been at a nine, then the implication of a supposed gift sent it rocketing all the way to a hundred in a heartbeat.
“Wait… WHAT!? What do you mean? What are you doing?”
As impossible as it seemed, Bernard's grin grew even wider as I almost lost myself in wool shaking exhilaration, “Call it my own form of Koala diplomacy. But I’m afraid that’s all I can say for now. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise even for you!”
“Oh you ass!” Whistling jovially I bapped my tail against Bernard’s leg in fake indignation, evoking a barking bellowing laugh from the man himself.
Still laughing, the two of us departed the class and made for the canteen, my rumbling stomach leading me on while my mind spun with fantastical thoughts as to what Bernard had prepared for us.
And what specifically he had in store for me.

chapters 1&2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
The lecture was supposed to be on Rationality 101, apparently not for Newcomers only. Serene was there to have her back but G was having a hard time focusing.
The boring black uniform more fitting for a hotel receptionist defaced the godlike beauty standing in front of a huge screen. Gentry couldn’t believe her eyes: this was the man she had her hands on a little while ago?
No, it couldn’t be.
It had been just an avatar, too perfect in its unblemished visage, too pure for this world. Yet the man whose face she remembered as if it was etched on the back of her eyelids, who she’d been constantly thinking about, who her hands itched to snatch, was standing right there, in the flesh.
Back in the dreamy simulated world she caught herself thinking that a trim waist like this couldn’t anatomically work on a human, yet here he was: a towering spread of fit shoulders perfectly balanced above the flexible whip of his midsection. The light-grey eyes that betrayed every movement of his pupils were as real as the ones that reflected the mock moon during her test. Below them lay the sharp slope of the cheekbones one could cut themselves on.
The only thing a bit different, apart from the outfit choice, was the young god’s hair. In the simulation, it was flowing and probably too long to be practical. This person’s mane was much shorter and fell down his neck in a neat ponytail, tastefully tamed with a single hairpin.
She had to get her hands on this treasure.
He was making last minute preparations for the lecture, looking through the papers on the desk, dark strands framing his face, light grey eyes sharp in careful concentration.
Professor Q, huh.
He said this was his name, and so did the note on the lecture hall door.
She was sure it was the man who had melted in her arms making the most delicious sounds a male throat could produce.
Had he recognised her?
Unlikely.
At the time of the simulation session, she didn’t have a camera that could pick up her facial features but just to be on the safe side, she decided to go by “G” in his class. There were bound to be lots of people with a name starting with a G, right? What would be the odds it was this particular newcomer that Q had tested that would end up in his class?
The man finally lifted his eyes at the audience and a gentle smile momentarily graced his features before disappearing as if he didn’t see someone he’d expected to.
The holoboard on the wall behind him obediently lit up following his nonchalant gesture. Gentry found it annoying that one needed a pair of special glasses to see all the augmented reality stuff and really navigate the city but again, with Sereen’s help she had more or less gotten used to it in the couple of days she had to deal with the necessities like settling down, getting food and finding her way around Ashtapada.
Still, could they use a piece of chalk or, at least, a marker to write on the board? No need to show off your Fully Automated Luxury Space Communism tech just to write a couple of notes on the board!
On second thought, high-tech-crazy or not, if this city brought up men like this one, she would definitely do her best to stay here to… reap the benefits!
They took a desk next to a huge clear floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the winter garden.
“Professor Q seems a little distracted today,” Sereen said, swiftly tapping a couple of buttons on G’s wrist to show her how to confirm that she was attending the lecture. “He’s usually much more chatty and friendly. I wonder what got into him.”
“Is he?” Gentry responded with an artificial air of indifference. “I just hope he’s more open to a discussion than that Poe guy.”
“He is! And Professor Poe isn’t that bad,” Sereen reprimanded before chuckling a little — since his little secret became known to students, he became known as Holopoe. “Just wait and see, it’s gonna be a blast. Q’s lectures are always very engaging.”
It proved to be utter bullshit.
After fiddling with the symbols on the interactive screen for ten minutes into the class, students getting more and more agitated behind his back, the lecturer seemed to give up. Turning back to the audience, he absentmindedly nodded to a couple of people in the lecture hall and sighed with a painfully fake smile.
“For today’s class, we are going to need to read a certain extract from a book,” he said, tone apologetic for some reason, but it solidified G’s conviction that she already knew this person. “I’ve just sent it to each of your wristcomms. We’ll have some quiet time and read it by ourselves, alright?”
“Reading from the comm?” Sereen mumbled to herself. “Couldn’t he just print them out?”
The rest of the students’ grumbles showed that they shared her disappointment. Q could only hopelessly smile again before returning to his work on the board.
Reading from the little semi-transparent screens was indeed torture. Quickly giving up on trying to awkwardly use gestures for scrolling through the text, she looked out of the window to entertain herself with the garden outside. From the modest height they were sitting at, the people below were quite discernible, partly hidden by the greenery, spread here and there in small groups and pairs. Gentry longed to be there, too. What was the use of being here with the most attractive person in the whole world if the only thing she could see was his back?
Well, the back didn’t look half bad, if she was honest, and what was below also pleased the eye.
But still. It would soon bore even the most easily entertained.
Her gaze fell to a small clearing where a lone male figure was sitting, writing something in a notebook. By the looks of it, the notebook was a real paper-made thing without the bells and whistles usual for Ashtapada. The next thing G noticed was a pair of slender legs, barefoot, stretched to dip the toes into the clear water of the artificial stream.
God bless the urban designers of this place!
The figure lifted the head and in an inconceivably graceful motion, swung the long blond bangs away from the face.
G straightened her back. Was it... Ok, maybe Q was the most handsome man she’d seen in her life but this... This was the younger boy she’d noticed a couple of days back, the one in a plaid skirt, shamelessly flirting with everyone within reach. Today, he wasn’t wearing one but the blue jeans hugging his thighs, rolled up almost to the knees, presented a picture just as tantalizing. Even with the hair was a completely different colour, even though the half-up, half-down style kept his face hidden, she was absolutely certain it was the same person.
Just you wait, young beauty, as soon as this “lecture” was over, your princess in shining armour was coming to pick you up!
Suddenly snapping out of the dull weariness, she turned on the auglasses S helped her obtain earlier and tapped away on her comm screen.
What a chance to give the local text sharing feature a go!
“The garden is pretty, but with a blossom like you, it is truly breathtaking. I wonder if anyone has picked this sweet flower or if anyone dares to,” she typed a cheesy note and folded the message into a neat 3D figurine of an origami paper crane with her fingers in the air.
Was S watching? Screw it, even if she was, she couldn’t read the message with her glasses off, right?
Carefully aiming the device at the lone figure, she launched the crane downwards, and it fluttered like a weightless butterfly in spirals, through the glass and right into the young man’s lap, not disturbing the notebook pages. He started at first at the intrusion but then turned his own glasses on and unfolded the message. A shy smile appeared on his plump lips, and he looked flattered, turning his head around to see if the sender was in sight. Catching no one, he typed something below the initial message and deftly folded it back into a crane that, to G’s surprise, flew directly at her, in uneven spirals along the wall. The man traced it with a smile, propping himself back on his arms, his whole slim body and face on full display now.
God, was he good-looking.
Easily passing the physical border of the glass again, the crane crashed into Gentry’s wristcomm, dutifully delivering the message and betraying her tactical position at the same time. An amused kind of surprise showed on the young man’s face and he waved at her to show that she had been exposed. She waved back, trying to look nonchalant but probably failing miserably.
Very smooth, G, way to go.
The message read, “Is a flower only good for looking at? Not this one.”
Oooh, this boy was playing with fire!
“Hey, G,” Sereen nudged. “Have you finished reading?”
“Mm? Oh, yeah.” Gentry lied easily. She had skimmed the first couple of paragraphs and was sure she’d be able to come up with something if asked.
“Done everybody?” the deep gentle voice called from the holoboard and G’s attention snapped back to the dignified face.
The class murmured affirmatively.
“I’m sorry today’s lecture isn’t as fun as usual,” he admitted. “I must say I’m still unsure how to approach such complex topic as this one. But with your help, I hope we’ll figure it out.”
Everyone seemed to perk up.
“You just read an extract on paradoxes,” Q went on. “And you might be wondering why we are raising a philosophical topic on a rational thinking course.”
“There you go,” Sereen whispered. “He’s back to normal!”
G humphed. This did seem interesting. Was it a good idea to read the extract after all?
Q continued, “In the text, you might have encountered the definition of a paradox. Would anyone explain it with their own words?”
A raised hand and the lecturer’s nod brought some courageous soul to their feet.
“It’s when you start with the correct premises, use consistent logic but wind up with an impossible conclusion,” they said. “There are three types: falsidical, veridical and antimony-type, which are...”
“Correct,” Q smiled and nodded the person back down. It was a smile worth starting a thousand wars over.
“Now there’s a reason why I asked you to read about them. Why do you think people have been fascinated with paradoxes for such a long time?”
S raised her hand and received a kind invitation.
“I might be wrong,” she said. “But it seems that they point at the limitations of our thinking, things that seem rational but in fact aren’t. We feel that with our all-conquering logic we can solve any puzzle but it’s not always the case. Right?”
“This is very insightful,” the teacher confirmed. “It is believed by many that what’s rational is true and therefore what rationality cannot explain must be false.”
“I definitely know someone who would die on that hill,” Gentry grumbled under her breath.
“I’m sorry?” Q asked. “Is there something you wanted to add... sorry, I don’t know your name?”
Still half mad with professor Poe, Gentry stood up. “It’s G, I’m a Newcomer. I was saying how a human mind can fool itself into thinking it knows what it looks at as long as it makes sense. But in reality, it’s not there, like the sky.”
That was the only thing she remembered from that last lecture! She felt the tips of her ears heat up but the kind and considering look on Q’s face showed her gamble paid off.
“These are very insightful observations, G, why don’t we try exploring them together?” — he waived her to sit down and turned back to the class — “Five minutes to discuss how paradoxes might reveal the weaknesses of rational thinking. Send your answers to the board when you’re done.”
“Whoa, daring as usual,” Sereen smiled. “I knew you’d enjoy his class.”
“Now, consider these two questions,” Q said to another student who stood up at his hand wave. “If an unstoppable force meets an indestructible object, what is going to happen?”
The person seemed to contemplate it for a while and the teacher didn’t rush him.
“Isn’t it one of those which are impossible to solve because the existence of the one automatically disproves the existence of the other?”
Q nodded, “Correct. The second one about the barber in a small town is of the same sort. Sereen?”
S stood up too, “The one that shaves all and only men that don’t shave themselves?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “At first, a premise like this seems perfectly reasonable, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” S responded, somewhat rashly. “But it’s clear that a barber like this cannot exist.”
“Wait, really?” Gentry whispered as Q nodded in satisfaction and urged her friend to go on.
“Yes, if we ask ourselves if this barber shaves himself. If he doesn’t, then he is part of the group which he does shave that do not shave themselves, but if he is in this group, then he does shave himself which makes it impossible for him to be this barber by definition.”
While the rest of the class was catching up with the logic, Q’s smile got only wider, more inviting.
“What does it tell us about the nature of the premise then?” he asked.
“That although it seems that it sounds logical on the surface, it is in fact nonsense and we don’t even need to hear the rest of the riddle to discard it completely,” S concluded.
The man chuckled.
“Well, I wouldn’t be that brash, to be honest, but on balance, you’re right,” he said. “If you stay after the lecture, I might recommend a couple of books on the topic. Your Newcomer friend is welcome to stay, too.”
G put up the best of the aloof fronts, “I’d be happy to, Professor.”
“Q is fine,” he smiled again and went on addressing the rest of the class that immediately exploded into a heated discussion.
***
“Basically, what I think we’re supposed to learn from this,” S concluded after a while, standing up so that everyone could hear her. “Is that before applying rationality, we have to make sure that all the premises we are dealing with are in fact realistic. Otherwise, there is no way rational thinking will help us.”
“Excellently put, as always,” Q applauded. “I’d love to see if everyone agrees or has something else to add to the discussion but our time is up. Feel free to write me a letter with your reflections on the topic.”
As interesting as the class was, the urge to leave the premises as soon as the teacher dismissed everyone seemed to be universal and applicable even to the Ashtapadans.
“I have to go now,” Sereen said. “Text you later, ok?” And with a reciprocal nod to Q, disappeared in the doors, joining the rest of the students.
Sadly, she couldn’t recall what they were talking about after the lecture, nor what titles Professor recommended for some home reading. She just hoped she didn’t make a fool of herself.
What Gentry did remember though was that after Q left as well and she came up to the panoramic window, Sereen and the mysterious flower boy were leaving the garden together. And it was hard not to notice that her new friend took off her wristcomm before they took off, and hid it in the tall grass.

For some context, I got married to my husband B, over 1 year ago and I cannot help but wonder if my husband loves me or not? So, back 2 years ago, I got married to B, over arranged marriage because in my culture it's a good option and culturally appropriate since my pervious boyfriend's were all jerks. So, during initial interactions, B was very calm and mature with me and seemed a genuinely nice guy. It also really added to his good looks and high income that I could not refuse the offer and also after a few interaction we decided to get married. But as soon, as we got married, he started interacting less and less with me, I mean he did not even spent the first night with me, and over 3 months our bedroom life was quite dry.
He was still a good partner to have, if I asked for some moeny he will give me no questions asked, he was not jealous or abusive, but it was just like living with a roommate, I did try to spice up things, but he would always reject me or turn me down, in fits, I would also curse him or try to argue with him but he just ignored me most of these times. In between all this, my job got the better of me and I got sick due to overworking. I could not care less about telling him as I thought it would just anger him so I just took a leave and spent the whole day in the bed, but to my surprise when B got home and saw me sick, he started to be really caring and asked me why did I not tell him earlier or how bad was it etc. During the 4 days which my fever remained, he quitely took all over the house chores got me breakfast, lunch and dinner, and regularly took care of me, he even slept close to me while regularly using ice strips. It was during those days that I first saw him actually show me a warm smile and while serving me breakfast. Even before leaving for work, he would cook meals for me and left me special notes in case of emergency. At first I was skeptical as to how much can a person change so I did not respond much to him as he did to me usually.
After I got well, he reverted back to the old pattern. And this situation happened two more times, around the third time I asked him why he is he being so nice to me all this time and not to me usually when I am more healthy, I mentioned that at the start of our marriage I literally begged for some of his attention and now he is literally taking days off of work to acre for me? After patiently listening to all this, he got really flustered and embarrased and just left my room. I felt bad for saying all this to him and the next day when he brought me breakfast as usual, I apologized to him and he said it's okay and water under the bridge. But what happened yesterday really shook me, see until yesterday I thought he did not really love and was forced in this marriage by his parents which is what usually happens in arranged marriages.
But yesterday, when I was trying to sleep, he opened my door and brought a glass of warm water and kept it beside and after a few seconds, he literally whispered "I love you.", and I felt a soft kiss on my forehead. He left while giggling and I was so excited and confused, I just could not sleep all night. I am writing this today all sleep deprived and confused, what to do now? Is he just manipulating me, gaslighting me or does he actually care?

Hi all! First off, so glad this sub reddit exists because it was a life saver when I was making decisions on my own ACLr and knowing what to expect from surgery. I'm a 2x cancer surviver, Paramedic, Rugby player, and now have been a caregiver to my partner who just celebrated 3 months from her own ACLr. I collected a bunch of advice and tips and tricks that I have used both during cancer treatment, my own experience with ACLr, and now through care taking my partner through hers. I know there have been guides before, but mine is a bit different and aimed at caregivers so I thought I'd post it here since ya'll helped me so much instead of it just circulating the rugby community every time a teammate or friend has to have ACLr or some other reconstruction. Hope it's allowed and helps!
A Cancer Patients Guide To Knee Reconstruction Recovery
A Comprehensive Guide To Surviving and Thriving In the Pre and Post-op Period Built From The Perspective of Caretaker and Patient.
Before The Date
__/__/____

Preparation

It is important to adequately prepare for surgery in the weeks and days leading up to the procedure. A significant period of immobility and reliance on support can be expected immediately post-op and will vary by procedure and personal experience. Physical modification of living space and thorough preparation allows for the immediate post-op period to be free of emergency store runs and the small inconveniences that can add up to big frustration. Not having food and drink nearby as well as other essentials may be a small deal now, but can turn into a big deal when you can no longer get those things for yourself. While physical preparation (home modifications, adaptive tools, meal prepping, etc.) are important, mental preparation is crucial to the long term success of the repair. Making small, achievable goals in the immediate post-op period and maintaining a long sighted view of recovery will make the pain and immobility that is initially experienced more bearable. Additionally, social support through a partner, family members, or friends is an essential part of recovery, as is maintaining contact with sports teams or other social groups during rehabilitation.

General PEARLs

• Pre-surgical rehab is an essential part of recovery and can improve immediate outcome so if it is a resource available to you- use it!
• Learn the basics of your procedure such as reconstruction technique, graft type, surgeons recovery timeline, where you will do your rehab, and what you should expect going into and coming out of surgery. Knowledge is power and can give a sense of control and set reasonable expectations in a situation that is otherwise out of your control.
• Seek out positive experiences and recovery stories from other people who have had your procedure and gather as much advice as possible from resources such as ACL. Know that some people will have negative experiences, everyone is an individual, and that much of your long term recovery is in your control.
• Expect and learn to advocate for yourself or the person you are taking care of. Be vocal and honest with any needs you may have and understand that issues may come up in the immediate post-operative time that you as a patient or caregiver may have to contact your surgeon to resolve. Familiarize yourself with who to call and when *before* you leave after surgery, as well as being quick to call with any questions or problems that arise. It is better to be told that what you are experiencing is normal than to sit with the anxiety of the unknown.
• Create a folder with all relevant information: Surgeons name, procedure information, follow-up appointment dates and times, phone numbers, emergency contacts, facility of choice in an emergency situation, and any other important information. Maintain this folder throughout your recovery and add paperwork as it comes.

Days Leading Up To Surgery

• Contact support people and confirm any arrangements that have been made including but not limited to: Who is taking you to/from surgery, child or pet care, transportation to first PT appointments, meals, etc.
• Recommended Items we found essential:
  • Ice Machine (Polarcube, etc) if at all possible
    • Recommend checking facebook marketplace or other second hand options, as they cost hundreds new but can be found for $40 or so used.
    • Studies have shown these do actually reduce pain and lend to earlier mobilisation and our experience has shown this to be essential not just immediately post-op but in the weeks and months afterwards so if you *can* obtain one you absolutely should.
  • Large sweatshirt and oversized shorts for surgery day, especially if you wear a bra, as putting clothes on after surgery can be a struggle and it’s easiest to just throw on a sweatshirt and shorts that fit over your post-op bandages and brace.
    • In particular, we found a blanket hoodie to be very useful both for going home and the first few days as it could stay on when moving around/when napping.
  • Neck Pillow
    • Helps with reading or other activities during long hours spent in bed or on the couch and really helped in the first two days to prevent neck strain and provide head positioning during napping.
  • Large pillows for body positioning and elevation of the leg
    • We found cheap, giant, dog beds from places like TJ Max or Marshalls to be more affordable than specialty products
    • A large, thin, dog bed (or blanket) rolled into a tube and secured with stretch bandage or tape around the surgical leg and brace helped significantly with comfort during sleep so that the leg was padded, comfortable, and the other leg didn’t get roughed up from the brace.
  • A shower chair
    • Can be found used at second hand stores like Goodwill, or cheap online
    • Easy substitute is a chair covered in a trash bag
    • Allowed showering the second day post-op which was a huge mental boost and relieved physical discomfort and achy muscles
  • Extra large leg cast cover
    • Can be found cheap online
    • Placed around outside of brace covering the entire leg initially, we then found it easier to place on the leg and place the brace outside of the cover for the remaining healing period for the incisions: We did this after the first PT appointment when it was safe to take off the brace for short periods while laying down. We acquired a second post op brace from a friend (you can find on eBay for cheap) and it was amazing to have, as we could let it dry after showering and immediately put her post op brace back on.
  • Foldable stool
    • Great for elevating the leg during transfers, while on the toilet, etc.
  • Lap Desk
    • Great for eating on the couch or in bed, but we also found it useful as a side table for holding drinks/meds/remotes/books that could be taken to whatever room they landed in at the time
    • A small table works as well, really just anything that can be used to set things on within arms reach
  • Assortment of sodas, water, seltzers, snacks, etc.
    • There is no way to know what you will want and when, but when you want it it’s nice to *have* it available
    • Appetite often decreases after surgery so make sure to have favourites on hand so that when you *are* hungry you have it immediately before your body changes its mind
  • A big bucket
    • We used a soft plastic beach type bucket from the dollar store, it was extremely useful to have to put small items in, a small towel, a spare water bottle, extra meds, baby wipes, etc.
    • Also doubled as an emergency puke bucket, as you never know when a sudden bout of nausea might hit in the first day or two after surgery
  • Extra reusable ice packs and bags of ice
    • Your home ice maker will not be able to keep up with the demands of constant icing the first week or so
    • Reusable ones are great for ‘hot spots’ and short trips where you can’t take the ice machine
  • Extra steri-strips and assortment of bandages
    • Sometimes there’s extra leakage, sometimes your steri-strips come off and you need to slap a new one on, sometimes you’re allergic to the ones they put on you at the hospital. Always consult a medical professional, but it’s handy to have these on hand just in case.
    • We also used a bulky padded bandaid to keep the brace off the healing incisions once the large post-op dressing was taken off which helped immensely.
  • Compression sleeves
    • Aside from helping with swelling these also provided a layer of protection under the post-op brace
    • We found cheap ones at Wal-Mart (copper brand) but also just bought a cheap pair of leggings a size down and cut off one of the legs to use before getting a more expensive one once swelling had fully subsided after a few weeks. Your leg will change so cheap works great at first, then you can get something a bit more substantial when you know what you’ll need long term. Now she wears high compression socks to sleep 3 months out.
  • Slide on shoes
    • Self explanatory, bending down to put on shoes becomes a chore after surgery. Avoid flip flops or other styles that can become a trip hazard.
  • Baby Wipes/Dude Wipes/etc.
    • Wiping down after you get home from surgery can help prevent that icky feeling and restore some sense of normalcy, then can be used over the next few days before you can shower more normally
  • Lotion and chapstick
    • Hospitals dry out your skin big time, and lips are often cracked post surgery from intubation/LMA placement
  • Small, easily labelled tupperware containers
    • Regular pill containers are too small to hold pain meds, OTC pain meds, anticoagulants such as aspirin, supplements, and edibles or other small things you take with your medication. We got small tupperware boxes with lids from the dollar store.
    • We found it very convenient to have six sets of meds set up and labelled with times which meant we never missed doses and could leave the next dose of meds at bedside, take them with us when going to appointments, and keep up with what had been given and when.
  • Small notebook to record med times and other important information
  • Two extra changes of clothes already setup and ready to go
  • Compression device
    • We are athletes so we already had leg compression sleeves but these days off brand versions can be bought online cheap. Studies have shown these lead to reduced pain, increased mobilisation, reduced the chance of blood clots, and there is even some evidence they help with bone healing.
    • We used it 3 days post op and beyond and her range of motion was significantly improved after the first time.
  • A yoga strap
    • Excellent for strapping to the brace and moving the surgical leg
• If possible, pick up post-op medications prior to surgery to prevent any unexpected delay in obtaining them. If this is not possible, verify that the prescription can be filled the day of the surgery by your selected pharmacy and that it has been filled prior to leaving after your surgery. Controlled substances cannot be transferred to another pharmacy without a new prescription sent directly from the provider. You do not want to be trying to get in contact with a physician in the hours after surgery, unable to manage pain, before the pharmacies close for the night.
• Do a thorough clean of your living area, it will make the time after surgery when you cannot independently do normal activities more bearable and a neat organised space is easier to function in when your body is not cooperating. Take special attention to removing tripping hazards and clearing a wide path from wherever you plan to spend your recovery and the bathroom.
• Plan to spend the first couple of days in one spot and on one floor and set up that area the day before surgery. If you have a downstairs bathroom a floor mattress or well setup couch can be your landing pad until you are more mobile and is the easiest during the immediate post-op period. That being said, if you don’t, it’s easier to get upstairs by sliding up on your bum immediately post-op when your pain is still well controlled than realise that you have no bathroom downstairs a few hours later when the pain has started to set in. Wherever you intend to land, plan on staying there at least a couple of days and bring all your supplies to that area. Plan to lay with your surgical leg on the outside of what you are laying on, this makes transferring easier.
• Have your recovery bed setup the day before surgery and prepared for when you return before you leave the day of, including blankets and your supply table setup.
• Meal prep, whether that means cooking or getting easy to make microwave meals is up to you. You won’t feel like cooking and neither will your caretaker the first few days. High protein, easy to eat meals are key! We had chicken and broccoli casserole, egg and sausage frittata, and lots of applesauce the first few days and it was a lifesaver not to have to think about meals.
• Spend some time mentally preparing for the long haul of recovery and make long term plans that fit within your timeline. For example, we planned to attend a rugby game five days after surgery *but* planned nothing else for that day and the next day. We also planned hiking trips the next fall, and other events appropriate for her timeline along the way that could be looked forward to and keep up morale. Remember that this is temporary and that it is okay to be recovering and resting, expect hard moments and days but keep things planned so you don’t get stuck in those down places.
• Eat your favourite meal and eat well the day before surgery. Your body needs fuel to recover and fasting the day of surgery sucks. As weird as it sounds, after multiple surgeries, the pre-surgery night meal of whatever I want is one shiny thing in a crappy situation to hold on to.
• Plan for what you want your first meal to be and consider making a playlist for the ride to and from surgery. Small things, again, help maintain a sense of control and comfort in a situation where you are largely out of control and these things can be done with friends or support people in the days leading up to reduce anxiety and pass time.
• Hit the gym, take a walk, do a hike, visit places or do things you enjoy but won’t be able to do in immediate recovery! We took my partners knee to one last tournament before her surgery, it helped pass time and kept spirits high.

Day Of And Immediate Post-Surgery Phase

• Maintain fasting starting at whatever hour you are told. Some people can drink clear liquids up to a certain point, others are completely nothing by mouth. Your instructions will guide you on this.
• Before leaving home double check that everything is set up how you need it and place a blanket, pillow, drink, and snack of choice in the car. You may or may not need it but if you do it is important to have. Make sure your ice packs are in the freezer ready to go!
• Bring your own post-op snack if you are picky or have food allergies, otherwise you’re stuck with whatever graham cracker and applesauce combo the facility gives you.
• Go with the flow, or as I always say “surrender”. Feel what you feel, have a cry in the car before you go in, listen to your playlist, bring your blanket or other comfort items into pre-op, tell your support person what’s going through your mind, tell your pre-op staff how you’re doing, ask all the questions, and most importantly just do what you have to do. For some people surgery can be overwhelming and the loss of control frightening, but fighting only makes it worse, so whatever you are just be it. I’m pre-op pacer myself, but some people just snuggle up under some warm blankets and wait. Either way, just let the waves take you where they go and know you’re along for the ride. Remember that future you with a healthy joint thanks you for what you’re doing today.
• Speak frankly with your anesthesiologist and utilise any pain control or anxiety control options given to you. There is no award for least meds taken or toughest patient of the day. If a nerve block is available, know that you can request sedation for its placement, and utilise that option if at all possible.
• Caregivers should bring something to keep them entertained and be prepared for a long period without update once surgery has started. Honour your feelings as well, it can be tough to watch someone you care about go through this! Consider having someone to act as a support person for you as well through text or phone, that way you can divert your own worries or struggles to them and away from the person having surgery while still making sure you are also taken care of.
• Make sure that pain is well controlled before leaving after surgery. You have more options there than you will at home and getting things under control once pain has become unbearable can be very difficult.
• Make sure you note when the next dose of medication is due, what medication they should be taking, and write it down.
• Double check contacts from your surgeons office and add any post op paperwork to your folder in case you need the information later.
• If your post-op meal requires picking up, or your prescription, try and do that immediately after leaving surgery even if you are not hungry yet. This is the most comfortable you will be for a while and your support person will be unable to leave for at least that day and night. I have been known to peruse the big gas station after surgery in search of snacks, my partner however simply waved to the nice people at the drive through and napped the rest of the way home before eating some hours later.
• Once you get home crash wherever you plan on spending the rest of the time. Don’t have friends or family over that first day. Just go ahead and sleep through the rest of the anaesthesia and get comfortable.
• Try and keep your home cool, and consider keeping the room dim for the first few hours if not days. Sleep is precious and pain meds can make you hot, and getting hot can lead to nausea. It is better to have the home cool and the person snuggled under blankets and comfortable than be trying to cool someone down who just had surgery and got too hot and is now dizzy, nauseous, and miserable. The least stimulation for the first little while the better, and naps will happen throughout the rest of the day and over the next few days. A cool, dim place lets this happen much easier than a bright, warm place where they might be overstimulated or awakened by noise or activity.
• If allowed, try and activate the quad muscle immediately after returning home and once every few hours by having them squeeze it and feeling for contraction while in the brace. Some people will be able to begin range of motion exercises immediately and if so, make sure to do them as soon as allowed even if that means just helping them by doing gentle manual range of motion movements in the brace.
• If it’s not already on, begin continuous icing as soon as you come out of surgery either by meticulously timing the replacement of ice packs or with the ice machine. Make sure to check the ice machine, replace ice as often as needed, and keep it on *continuously* for the next few days. For us this meant I checked it at every medication dose throughout the night and added ice during that time as well. We went through frozen mini water bottles and bags of ice like crazy the first week.
• Elevate the surgical leg as high as possible, placing support under the heel and calf but not directly under the knee to promote extension and prevent more headaches with gaining range of motion later on.
  • We found that icepacks directly under the knee helped tremendously with the discomfort associated with this.
• Anticipate that bathroom trips will not be fun or easy and take them extremely slow. As a caregiver allow the person to guide you on what they need and don’t need your help with and avoid grabbing or moving someone unexpectedly. Standing, acclimating to being upright, and then proceeding to the bathroom is the best way to do things and rushing will only result in frustration for both of you. A rolling chair or wheelchair can be helpful, but for some people standing up and sitting down is harder than just moving on to the bathroom. Pay attention as a caregiver and know that it is possible they may need your help getting off the toilet or back from the bathroom so be close by and available should that happen. For the first few days do not lock the bathroom door in case of an emergency.
• Place chairs or things to sit on around your path to the bathroom, kitchen, etc. And consider a small backpack or using a rolling chair to carry items around the house.
• Once you know when your next dose is, set alarms for each time your doses are due. If using the med boxes this makes doing meds and keeping track very easy, as they are each labelled with a time and all we had to do was open the box and take the meds instead of finding each bottle and dosing each med individually each time. As the days went on we were able to re-label and time the boxes as needed and remove meds as needed or adapt to what was needed when sleeping or up during the day.
  • For example day 1 would look like:
    • First post-op doses at 4pm box: 250mg tylenol, 10mg oxycodone, 5mg edible.
    • 8pm box: 250mg tylenol, 10mg oxycodone, 800mg ibuprofen, 10mg edible, 12.5mg diphenhydramine (itching and sleep), stool softener, and regular night time meds.
    • Midnight box: 250mg tylenol, 5mg oxycodone, 5mg edible.
    • 4AM: 250mg tylenol, 5mg oxycodone, 800mg ibuprofen, edible (if nauseas or restless).
    • 8AM box (preparing to get up): 250mg tylenol, 10mg oxycodone, 5mg edible, aspirin, stool softener, normal morning meds.
    • 12pm: 250mg tylenol, 10mg oxycodone, 5mg edible, 800mg ibuprofen.
    • Repeated on time, reducing pain med dose as tolerable, and refilling boxes 1x a day.
• If possible do scheduled tylenol (paracetamol) and ibuprofen (or another NSAID), alternating them on the dosing schedule, and take them religiously even through the night. This also goes for additional pain medications, which you will also need to wake to take through the night if you are prescribed for at least the first night.
• Staying on schedule might mean waking up in the night, but it’s better to be awoken to take meds than to wake up in pain and spend several hours trying to get it under control. You may find you seldom need them if your nerve block is in place, or you may just not need very much at all during your recovery. It is easier to trial run this after the first day by stretching out the time between doses from 4 to 6 to 8 and then potentially off entirely, but everyone will have their preferences.
• Eat a small snack with every med dose and keep emergency meds (extra pain med doses, nausea meds, etc.) at bedside as well as the next set of meds due so they can be taken when it is time.
• We found that edibles were a great addition to pain and nausea control after surgery. There are medication options available and having at least one option for nausea is advisable for the first few days after surgery when anaesthesia and medication can really make you want to puke.
• Expect absolutely nothing in the first few days post-op. Some people will feel well enough to move around, others will not be able to do anything but get up to use the bathroom. Expecting nothing is better than expecting more and being disappointed or frustrated. I would highly suggest not making plans until your first follow up 7 or so days after surgery.
• Be obsessive about icing, meds, any PT you have been given, and keeping track of appointments. Give yourself the best start to your recovery that you can and you will thank yourself later!

Early TLP Min-Max Race Choice.

First off know that Starting stats are pretty low impact, generally if you're broke on a new server dumping points into Strength so you can carry a lot of vendor loot is more helpful than anything else. If you're gonna be able to afford weightless bags early and wear your armor without being overloaded then you can afford to worry about Int, Wis, Stamina, Agil, and Dex. Int and Wis early on are more impactful for classes that use mana than any other stat they can get.
One exception is Charisma. On any toon where you are going to be pulling a ton with Lull/Pacify it will save you from criitcal failures (pacify resists that actually agro the mob.) It is suprisingly very high impact in reducing critical lull failures. Probably the most high impact starting stat overall, but only applies to lull pullers. Also helps you get better prices from vendors so dovetails nicely with the strength meta.
Stamina is more HP which is always great and very early on it's a tough stat to get on gear whereas lots of gear has strength on it from the start. The downside is that at low levels it doesn't give much HP but it does improve as you level.
Dex and Agil are the lowest impact early on, unless your agil is so low (<75) that you take an AC penalty.

Racial innate abilities don't mean much for most classes. Some are particulary low impact. A few are nice-to-haves. But a few are pretty impactful. And since eventually you're going to be capped on every stat picking that erudite for higher starting Int will be completely worthless whereas your Dark Elf "Hide" skill won't be.

Major Abilities:

Ogre frontal stun immunity is definitely the highest impact racial ability and generally if your class can be an Ogre he probably should be.

Halflings are the only race to get the Sneak ability. Occasionally very useful for instant indifferent faction with any NPC and sometimes even for actually sneaking past mobs! Really nice for classes that don't get invis, like clerics, warriors and later paladins.

Iksars get a bonus to AC and Regen. The Regen is actually very impactful for Necros early on and more AC is always nice for any class but less valuable for tanks than ogre stun immunity.

Halflings, Wood Elves and Dark Elves all get the Hide ability. Useful for AFK'ing as it's an unlimited duration invis as long as you don't move.

Wood Elves and High Elves have the best origin point early game due to access to 1) the most popular early leveling zones, 2) the Nexus Spires during Luclin and 3) PoK Books that are very close to Kelethin and Felwithe.

Once Frogloks are available they are generally the best Origin point for any class they can be.

Only Gnomes can do the Tinkering Tradeskill so you have to be a gnome if you want to do Tinkering.

Ogres, Trolls and Barbarians all get the ability "Slam", doesn't do much but it's an extra attack with a tiny amount of damage and chance to interupt casters.

Wood Elves and Iksars get the Racial ability to Forage. Slightly useful for Iksars spending a lot of time in lands without access to merchants.

Innoruuk Troll Shaman, Innoruuk Human Clerics, and Innoruuk Dark Elf Clerics can do a simple quest to get a clicky with unlimited charges of the lowest necro/sk snare.

Trolls get racial regen like Iksar which is kinda nice for regenning back health from Cannibalize but combined with the Snare Clicky makes them a reasonable second choice for Shamans after Ogres. The Regen has Negligible impact for WaSk unless you're soloing a lot which is trash exp on official servers compared to grouping.

Small races like Gnome, Halfling, and Dwarf also have an advantage in that you typically don't need to worry about getting a shrink clicky or pots.

Class by Class:

Bard - Low impact. Wood Elves best Origin Point.
Beastlord - Ogre for frontal stun immunity or Iksar for AC Bonus.
Berserker - Ogre for frontal stun immunity.
Cleric - Halfling for Hide and Sneak. Dark Elf for Hide and easy Snare Clicky Quest. (Must Choose Innoruuk)
Druid - Halfling for Hide and Sneak.
Enchanter - Dark Elf for Hide or other for preferred Origin point.
Magician - Dark Elf for Hide or other for preferred Origin point.
Monk - Iksar for AC and Regen. (Humans are Cooler though and get better origin points and faction.)
Necromancer - Iksar for Regen. Initially high impact but eventually meaningless as you get raid gear.
Paladin - Low impact except Halfling (if avail) for Hide and Sneak. High Elf for best origin point. Dwarf for best starting stats.
Ranger - Low impact. Wood Elves best Origin Point.
Rogue - Low impact. Wood Elves best Origin Point. Gnome so you don't feel bad about not having a Mask of Tinkering.
Shadowknight - High Impact. Ogre for frontal stun immunity or distant second Iksar for AC Bonus.
Shaman - Ogre for frontal stun immunity or Iksar for AC Bonus and Regen or Troll for regen and easy Snare Clicky Quest. (Must Choose Innoruuk)
Warrior - High Impact. Ogre for frontal stun immunity or distant second Iksar for AC Bonus.
Wizard - Dark Elf for Hide or Gnome for Tinkering, The only class that Doesn't suffer from Dark Elf's terrible origin points.

tl:dr

If you can be an ogre be an ogre. (Unless you're a shaman and really want regen and the ability to snare mobs with the worst snare in the game, then be an Innoruuk Troll.)
Pally, Cleric, Druid. Halflings get sneak and hide.
Dark Elf Int Casters get hide at the cost of a crappy Origin point.
Dark Elf Innoruuk Clerics get Hide and Snare clicky neck at the cost of a crappy Origin point. (Human Innoruuk Clerics can get the clicky Neck too with less terrible origin point and faction.)
Necros benefit a lot from Iksar Regen for a long time.
Wizards should be Dark Elves.

Origin points:

GFay and Felwithe are the best early on and stay really good. Easy access to main early level dungeons, closest possible Luclin Spires, PoK Book in same zone as Kelethin and another PoK book right near Felwithe. Also BB docks are one zone away for quick access to Firionia Vie and Freeport areas.
Second best during classic/kunark is probably Freeport for access to EC tunnel and the docks to BB in Freeport and OT in Oasis and improves in Velious cause of N Ro Docks to Iceclad. Takes a Hit in Luclin cause of no Nexus Spires but there's plenty of Druids and Wizards in Commons to buy a port from.
Nothing changes much in Luclin except Erudites get access to a nearby Set of Luclin Spires.

Once PoP drops it's all about how far you have to run and whether you need to zone to get to the PoK Books.

Froglok Village in Rathe Mountains, Wood Elves in GFay, North Qeynos Classes, and West Freeport Classes all have a PoK book in the same zone as their Origin point and are pretty much the best Origin points.
Lots of others are slightly worse but still above average, like Fewlithe Clerics and Paladins do have to zone once but it's a very short run to the zone line and the Pok book is very closeby outside.
Most others are like a medium run and zoning once, kind of annoying but not a huge deal. Like Rivervale, Cabilis East. Felwithe Int casters have to zone twice but both are very short runs.

The Worst is Basically anything in Neriak but especially third gate like Necros and SK's because they have to zone 3 times and then it's still a long run to the PoK book once you're in Nektulous. A close runner up is West Cabilis, zoning twice and running over canals with crap hanging overhead to get stuck on. 3rd worst is probably Ak'Anon, just feels like forever getting to the zone out and then you still have a way to go to get to the PoK book.

There are a bunch of others that also require zoning more than once or just annoying cities to navigate like Paineel, Erudin, and most guild halls that are in the deeper parts of a multi zone city. Surefall is a zone-twice situation with a bit of a run but at least it's a straight line you can autorun and the Druid port is right inside the zone.

So if you care a lot about Origin Points that have a PoK book in the same zone:

1 Kelethin
2 Rathe Mountains Frogs
3 North Qeynos Classes
4 West Freeport Classes

In Acts 6 and 7, it says a few things about Stephen's final moments:

Then some of those who belonged to the synagogue of the Freedmen (as it was called), Cyrenians, Alexandrians, and others of those from Cilicia and Asia, stood up and argued with Stephen. But they could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he spoke. Then they secretly instigated some men to say, “We have heard him speak blasphemous words against Moses and God.” They stirred up the people as well as the elders and the scribes; then they suddenly confronted him, seized him, and brought him before the council. They set up false witnesses who said, “This man never stops saying things against this holy place and the law; for we have heard him say that this Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place and will change the customs that Moses handed on to us.” (Acts 6:9–14)
Then the high priest asked him, “Are these things so?” (Acts 7:1)

Stephen proceeds to give history from the Old Testament and finishes by saying:

”You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you are forever opposing the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors used to do. Which of the prophets did your ancestors not persecute? They killed those who foretold the coming of the Righteous One, and now you have become his betrayers and murderers. You are the ones that received the law as ordained by angels, and yet you have not kept it.” (Acts 7:51–53)

And then he is killed:

When they heard these things, they became enraged and ground their teeth at Stephen. But filled with the Holy Spirit, he gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. “Look,” he said, “I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!” But they covered their ears, and with a loud shout all rushed together against him. Then they dragged him out of the city and began to stone him (Acts 7:54–58)

Did those who could not withstand the wisdom and Spirit with which Stephen spoke want to kill Stephen? Why? Who were the people who did kill him? Were they the council or just other people who were there? And why did they want to kill him? Because they determined that the charges against him were true, or because they were enraged, or because he claimed to see the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God? And why were they enraged?

I apologize in advance for the length of this thread, but by far this is the user that wrote the most comments in the video of our song. At first, he suggested Scepter and Reign, but he debunked this lead by saying: "Scepter and Reign can be crossed off. I have been corresponding with the lady whose name is mentioned in the legal document, Naomi (first name used with her permission, and only her first name) since Thursday. She was legitimately shocked her name was on the document because in all these years NOBODY ever contacted her regarding it. She thinks they may have realized how much money it would cost and probably withdrew. She knew both bands fairly well, scale of 1-10 she answered "6.5 maybe 7'ish". She designed 1 "logo" for each band that was literally just a sketch she made with their band names on them she could print out in the Xerox store she worked at. Scepter's original name was actually "Dungeon Master" but they changed it to fit their name on her design. As for the abandoned demo from Scepter, she said they abandoned it because they couldn't afford to produce it. They didn't even make it far enough to name their 3 or 4 songs. So, on to the big question, are either bands involved with this song? According to her both bands came out in 1985, and according to her this "The Falling King" song predates both bands by a year or 2. This is not Scepter or Reign, this song is older than both bands. According to her, she first heard this song on a Detroit station while visiting family. Even back then, the Detroit station personnel had absolutely NO CLUE who this was. She remembers her father making fun of the singers accent claiming it was a "Posh" accent and also used to think the lyric was "The fall, the fall in the king" lol. I explained how this song was recorded off of several stations in 1987 and she replied "How many songs do you hear on the radio that are several years old?". She was stumped this was played on Z-Rock because this does not sound like an amateur band to her. She is not the only person to make comments that this does not sound like an amateur band, this sounds professionally recorded and produced, something EXTREMELY few amateugarage bands could have done. I thought i had something, but at least i tried. By the way, apparently Reign still performs in the Pittsburgh area under the name "Metallic Thunder"." (THIS IS HIS LATEST COMMENT) If this is true, it means our search will be even more difficult.
In one of his earliest comments he said this: "My 2 oldest sisters (born in 1970 and 1972) actually remember this song being played by garage bands and local talents in the Coatesville PA area. However, they both swear on mom and dads ashes that the first time they heard this song, a local music festival in Exton PA, I was NOT born yet (I was born in 1984). Even back then nobody could say who it was or what the title was. In fact the one band from Downingtown PA used to refer to it as "The Dungeons and Dragons song". And by that i mean, according to my sisters the lead singers girlfriend (or his sister....they could never tell?) would be in the crowd and when they were ready to end their performance she would shout "Play the Dungeons and Dragons song". My sisters also remember the adults thinking this song was somehow a promotional thing for the PA Renaissance Fair. Unfortunately they cannot offer any clues to the identity of this band or songs title, their guess, back then and still today, was Manowar."
At first, he claims our band is Manowar, explaining: "I do not think Manowar is an obscure band, nor do my sisters. The "obscure" bands mentioned in my postings are all the local garage/amateur bands that they remember playing this song and most of those garage/amateur bands even back then, along with my sisters, were under the impression this was a Manowar song. Many people, not just on this post but others feel this is Manowar "pitch" song, other bands thrown around have been Iron Maiden, Overdrive (Or Overkill, i'm not sure if it's the same band?), Blackmane, Axis and Cirith Ungol (spelling?). Keep this in mind, it's not that uncommon for mainstream/well known bands to have unreleased music in their "library". A good example, ask the most diehard Rammstein fans what their first song ever was, they'll probably answer Du Recht So Gut or Rammstein. Most people have never heard their 1992-1993 pitch song, "Tier" (Monster, beast). In fact, Till Linderman himself stated in 2018 he was unaware Tier was ever recorded by anyone, yet alone put up on the internet. Like this "Fall of the King" song, "Tier" was toted as an mystery song for years but was in a group of 4 or 5 other songs that Rammstein did but never released. One of my favorite bands, Corvus Corax, actually had something similar happen, a song they did back in the early 90's, "Vampire", opening for another band was recorded by a fan in the audience and made rounds on the Neo Folk community ages later. Corvus Corax themselves heard it on a radio station in Denmark roughly 2009'ish and called them asking how and when they got that song because they NEVER recorded it for public use. Personally i cannot give a wager who this is? I am not that good with this genre so i go with what people older than me and much better with this music say. To me it could be Manowar, something they never intended to be released publicly, it could be the Z'Rose a bunch of people feel it is, it could be Overdrive/Overkill (i do not know if these names are the same band or 2 separate ones?), it could be me time traveling impersonating my great uncle Fred......ok that last one was just meant to be a joke lol." Then someone says: "has your sister contacted erik to see about the the song?" and he says "OH HELL NO!!! They haven't spoken since they broke up in 1991-1992. I did reach out to his brother probably a year ago and never heard back."
He suggests it's either Manowar or Sarissa (he mispelled them): "@aSome1 There's some confusion, my sisters never said Z'Rose was playing the song in our hometown area. Local teenage to early college yrs bands were playing it. They recognized this song when I was on a family Zoom chat, i had this song on in the background (by accident actually lol) and my oldest sister (#1 born in '70) asked what i was listening to. I turned it up and she shook her head and asked the other sister (#2 born in '72) "Oh my gosh isn't that that stupid Manowar song Erik and his brother used to play all the time?". Erik was the name of her high school boyfriend. They remember hearing it first at an amateur music fest when my brother (born in '82) was still a baby. Mainly they remember mom fitting all of them in her old "Batmobile" station wagon. By the time i was born in '84 that station wagon was gone for at least several months. The band names they specifically remember playing this, and keep in mind these were "Garage bands" from the 80's were: Venomous Vomit, Razors in your Coffee (Erik's band), Ash to Ash, Cauldron Kings, Coven of Metal, Pridesville, South of Hell and Purgatory. They said there were a few more, but didn't remember....or care....to know their names. (Disclaimer: Several peoples associated with those mentioned bands have been contacted by me and several have replied.....the most common reply is "How the hell do you know us!?" lol)
"I have actually been looking at this song for almost 3yrs. I've had some "good leads" and some "bad leads" and i've also had "WTF leads".......but at the end it is still unsolved. So far the biggest contenders, from people way better with this music than me (I'm more a symphonic or extreme metal person) have been: Manowar, Iron Maiden, OverDrive, Overkill, Onslaught of Destruction and Sonic Mahem. My sisters really believe it is possibly an unreleased or "pitch demo" of Manowar but they also said it might be a Greek band from the early 80's called Sarassa or something like that?"
Then he denies it's Z-Rose: "@lostwavefinder587 I have seen that name tossed around a lot on forums and random chats (this being one of them). Most people way smarter and better with this music than myself seem to have the opinion that it is not Z'Rose. They range in reason from: the equipment sound professional and they were not, the dates don't add up, Z'Rose only did covers so even it is them in the recordings it's still not their song.....one individual (a supervisor at work who lived in Texas during this time frame) actually said "Z'Rose wouldn't have been sober enough to finish that song". I have only heard 1 Z'Rose recording, and unfortunately the person who recorded it (I think the date says 1989?) spends the majority of the 5 minute video talking during the performance so all i hear is them and not the singer. I have to emphasize about %99 of this info i'm presenting is NOT from me but people who know this genre of music way better than me....i'm more Symphonic metal and neo folk (Corvus Corax, Heilung, Faun etc."
"Out of curiosity, since a lot people think this might be Z'Rose, has anyone contacted the family/families of Nick or Joe Cavazos? My "team" is looking into a blog page from 2018 of a pretty intense exchange between a blogger and a woman who is believed to be "Rocker Joe's daughter. In this exchange she states this song is NOT her dad and uncle's band. But it gets pretty rough because the blogger keeps pressing and let's just say some NSFW language is exchanged. I will only say this, the woman's name does match one of the names in Julio "Joe" Cavazos obituary, but they can't tell if it is actually HER or someone posing. I also find it interesting that in another posting of this song someone is claiming to be the nephew of both Nick and Joe.....but about a dozen people ask about this song and he does not answer them......but someone else will ask something unrelated to this song and he answers??"
"About a year ago on another posting of this song, someone had a link to a conversation with a woman who was allegedly Joe Cavazos daughter. She very adamantly denied this was her dads band, Z'Rose. They person kept pressing her and she did not budge a single inch, "NO, its not my dad's band". The only thing that could be confirmed was the woman's name did match a name in Julio "Joe" Cavazos obituary as his daughter. But if it was her or not I can't say? Many peoples on other postings and on forums have all claimed to have gotten in contact with Z'Rose and stated they responded "No" to this being theirs.
So the "Kings Fall" song by Bernard Cavazos is actually a completely different song. He is also not related to the Z'Rose Cavazos. Somewhere I read that the "Kings Fall"/"Fallen King" song by Bernard Cavazos is about a corrupt politician or mafia like "king" not an actual king. Again none of this is from me, it's from things I read, not me.
When 'Wang' did a video about several mystery songs he included this one. In his video (I don't know if he made more than one?) he talked about how that Bernard Cavazos has been contacted and has denied this is his Fall of the King song. If my memory is correct Wang read a message from him explaining his "king" was a corrupt politician or gang leader like king. Wang also mentioned there was another Bernard Cavazos who was a doctor and he is sick and tired of people contacting him about this song"
Someone that replied to him said:
"@CharlesMarkward probably this tape recording was an attempt from them to make something of their own, many bands have started this way, an example is the Brazilian power metal band Angra, they were first meant to be an Iron Maiden tribute but as things went by, they have decided to release things of their own...I couldn't find anything about this "Z'Rose" band in metal-archives, neither at Google with a simple research, but the data gathered until this moment make sense: the Z Rock radio is from Texas, the so called "Z'Rose" band is also from Texas, it was the 80's, so, without internet, this was the way bands used to promote their work...but your story adds some drifts from this sensible data available until now...they are/were from Texas, ok...but until then, they weren't any big group, which means they were probably 9 to 5 salarymen whose musician activity was on weekends and the money earned wasn't enough to keep up with, so, a trip from TX to PA is a long ranged one and expensive for their then standards, I can remember when I've read the Mick Wall's Metallica biography, in which they highlight how hard was for them to go all the way from CA to NY to record Kill em' All, well, unless someone sponsored the so called "Z'Rose from Texas" (like the Zazula couple to Metallica) to play in the events you've mentioned in PA...which means they were good and had potential (this "mysterious recording" doesn't let me lie), because it takes a lot for someone at the other eastern extreme of a big country like the USA to call someone all the way from TX to play in an event when probably there were good bands around and without the need of a sponsorship to travel and get some place to sleep and eat..."
Therefore Charles says: "Also, i am not the one saying it's not them. People much better with much more access to metal archives/records are saying it's not them. BUT, everything you said makes perfect sense to me and I have no argument against any of it. It would make perfect sense if it was a possible pitch demo Z'Rose recorded and kept along for a few years before a station played it. My sisters are %98 certain it was a Manowar song, the only other band they mentioned as a possibility is a Greek band i can't find anything about called something like Sarassa??"
Someone told him to contact Erik: "A little bit ago someone in here suggested i contact my sisters ex and ask where he got this song. I could not get a hold of him, but i did get in contact with his brother he played with. According to the brother they got the song from their aunt who lived in Philly (Center City) and would send them tapes of songs to play. This song was on a tape sandwiched between "4 or 5" Manowar songs. He specifically remembered this for 2 reasons: 1, their aunt wrote "Killing of the king by No Name" and 2, the last song on the this tape was labled as a Venom song (he did not recall which) but was actually "Melody of Love" by Bobby Vinton😂. So i think this is why my sisters keep saying it's Manowar, because if it was on a tape with a bunch of their songs that chances are they heard a crapload of times?"
He contacted Erik's brother (Erik is supposedly the ex boyfriend of one of his sisters) and received this reply: "Erik's brother returned another email I sent about this song. I made a post about it about a week ago. The brother says their aunt who lived in Philly included this song on a mix tape of stuff for him and his brother to play. This song was sandwiched between several Manowar songs and the last song on the tape was supposed to be a Venom song but was actually Bobby Vinton's "Melody of Love" 🤣"
Therefore debunking the possibility it's a Manowar song, he also adds: "She (the aunt) passed in 2014. She would record songs off the radio for them. She lived in Philly (Center City) but also had a place in Florida, so he was never sure which cities radio stations she would record from. This song she wrote "Killing the King?" As the title and "???" as the band name, but it was between several Manowar songs. I think this might be why my oldest sisters are so insistent this is a Manowar song because they may have listened to it with Erik and his brother.....it's a theory lol"
He also thought of Iced Earth as the possible band: "lostwavefinder587 I immediately thought of Iced Earth when I heard this song. Although it's likely just a coincidence, it's interesting to note that Iced Earth was originally called "The Rose".
Someone said to him: "if that's any help, the Greek band's name you're talking about is probably Sarissa. I don't think it's them, though: the vox sound kinda different, and their songs are mostly Ancient Greece-themed." And he replied: "Yes, thank you! All this time I've been spelling it wrong. I gave a quick listen to a demo of theirs from '86. In terms of sound and beat and tempo etc, they are pretty close to this song. In terms of vocals, they sound nothing alike." Therefore, he debunked Sarissa himself.
Now here he changed his version and provides a new lead given by his sisters:
"Holy crap for some reason my last post got cut in half and didn't include the following info, sorry! So the individual i spoke to and got the new possible lead is the former singer of the one band my sisters mentioned, Purgatory, (i do NOT have his permission to use his real name but his stage name was Tarantula). He confirmed he played this song "once or twice" but didn't know the lyrics so they just repeated several "blocks" over and over again. He heard it from a band in NJ and when he asked if he could use the song they replied along the lines of "It's not our song, we don't care" but gave no indication who it was or they even knew who it was? He suggested the band "Knightmare" because they were from Texas and he remembers all of their songs being medieval or medieval fantasy related. Supposedly they wore what looked like full on plate armor (he does not know if it was actual metal armor or something made to look like it). He saw them perform a handful of times because he spent summers in Texas on his grandfathers (mistakenly said uncle in my last post, sorry) ranch and would sneak off at night to "the metal scene" (i do not know if that was a club name or if he just meant that in general?). He began visiting his grandfathers ranch in 1980 and stopped when his grandfather retired in 1992. He gave an estimated timeline for "Knightmare" of 1981-1989."
He corrects himself by saying they are not called "Knightmare": Interestingly, my supervisor at work lived in Texas during this timeline (roughly mid 70's to mid 90's from what i can gather?) and when I asked him about Knightmare he had no idea. But when i mentioned they dressed up like knights in armor he suddenly looked startled and said "That wasn't their name, their name was Battle Battalion or some s*** like that".
But then he says: "So i posted a few months ago about this song, my sisters remember garage bands in the area playing this… I checked every band called Knightmare on Metal Encyclopedia and it doesn’t look like it’s our band." "Forgive my French.....Damn. I thought maybe it could have been a lead but i guess like dozens of others I've come across, dead end. I did a quick search for Knightmare a few weeks ago and I got all excited i saw one band dressed up like monks or Druids, but that band only came out in 2017. I think it's safe to say the name has been used by many bands."
Then someone asks him: "Does the name "Battle Battalion" show up on any Metal "pedia" sites? That's what my supervisor claims this "dressed up in medieval armor" bands name was?" and another one told him: "I saw some bands with Battalion on the metal encyclopedia and discogs and none of them are our band. I don’t think we should go based on what a band wears as our lead."
Then he debunks the Knightmare (and the Conquest) lead: "So a little bit ago i mentioned a band name "Knightmare" as a possibility for this song. Well the band was actually called "KnyghtBlyde" (Knight Blade) and i got in contact with the daughter of the vocalist last night. I played this song for her and after some confliction/hesitation she said it is NOT her dad. The biggest thing was all of her dads songs were based of Aruthurian lore and filled with references to Camelot, Arthur, Morgana, Lancelot, Excalibur etc. Since this song has none of that, its not them. She has no idea who this is. I did a quick search "Conquest 80's metal band Texas" and found 3 results. Conquest from San Antonio, split in either '85 or '87. Conquest from Dallas, '86 - '90. Khan'quest (possibly same band as Khanquistador?), no location given but split up in '88 then reformed in 2000 then......nothing? I could not find anything about any of their songs or demos or releases or band members. But it's obvious I was thinking of the wrong Conquest bands 😂 Conquest was ruled out. Someone who owns the tape was contacted and told us this isn't them."
And he says the singer of KnyghtBlade is convinced this song is from Battallion:
"So a little bit ago I mentioned getting in contact with KnyghtBlyde singers daughter who states that this is NOT her dad. She contacted me this morning, her father thinks this song might be by a band called Battalion. But her father said Battalion also went by the name AAA, Anti Aircraft Assault (or Artillery) in their early days. According to her father AAA/Battalion were from Texas but at least 2 of their members were originally from Chicago. Has anyone ever heard of either Battalion or AAA, Anti Aircraft Assault? The closest I can say is my one supervisor at work mentioned a band Battle Battalion from Texas when he lived there."
Then someone replies to him: "you are right there is a band named Battalion formed in 1984" He says: "I cannot find a single piece of music from this particular "Battalion"? From what I could find they formed between 1983 and 1985, split, reformed under a few possible names, split, repeat. 2 people I asked did say they remember a band of some sort from "out west" Anti Aircraft A-something, but neither could give any info."
Now here, he suggests it could be a Talon song:
"So here's a potential lead for everyone: I was just playing this song for a friend who is obsessed with all metal music. She asked me "Where did you get that Talon song?" Talon was/is a German heavy metal band from the early 80's that released several demos and full on albums between '83-'89. Almost all of there songs were medieval themed, especially their 2 demos. Herr's the thing, they supposedly have 3 unnamed tracks from both demos, one allegedly called "King Slayer". I listened to a bunch of there songs and I have to say there are several songs where the singer sounds exactly like our mystery singer, but then the next song they sound nothing alike. There was one song called something like "Execution" that the opening guitar sounds like this songs opening only slower? I'm not saying it is Talon, but it is possibly something to look into or at least consider?"
He also claimed the singer sounds like Bruce Dickinson (which has been suggested many times):
"I've said many times that I personally feel this vocalist sounds extremely close to Bruce Dickinson. There is a clip of Bruce singing Tom Jones' "Delilah" on either a talk or game show, and his opening of that song is nearly identical to this Fall of the King vocals! Tone, tempo, cadence, pitch......it's really really on spot. I am NOT saying it is Bruce, I'm just saying whoever it is does a good job singing like him."
He says this song could be made by Eviscerator:
"Hello again everyone, has anyone ever heard of a band from Britain, late 70's through late 80's called "Eviscerator"? Very very long story short: I played this song at a Viking/Pagan/Neo-Folk/Black Metal "bar" about half a mile up the road from my place and the one patron who looked like Elvira and Lilith Bathory had a daughter together (HOT HOT HOT) comes over and asked me to replay it and she sang along with the recording with about %95 accuracy! Oddly, at the end after the 4 or 5 "The Fall of the King"s, she suddenly sang "The evil one now wears the crown, all hail the evil one" and head banged for a few moments. According to her, this song was by a band called "Eviscerator" and they always claimed this song was written as a pitch track for the movie Heavy Metal? I mentioned how this song by numerous accounts was recorded here in the USA in 86-87 from stations in Texas, Chicago, Cleveland, NYC and (by only one account) possibly Florida. She didn't feel there was an issue with that as stations will often play random things just to fill the spot including songs that are several years older. I asked about her added line at the end and she stated "I didn't add s*** bud, whoever recorded it must have cut it off before they got to it". I mentioned how numerous people strongly believe this is the work of Z'Rose, she said they probably covered it a bunch of times but it is not their song and even stated that this particular recording sounds like it could be them covering. She was more familiar with Z'Rose than me, she commented "The 3 Cavlaros brothers from Texas right? The singer was the oldest brother Jeff?" (I know that's not their name, i only included it for aunthenticity per context of our discussion, the last name is Cavazos and there was only 2 of them right?). She also told me Z'Rose had about a dozen other names through their years including "Gypsy Rose". I asked how she knew this British band "Eviscerator" and she answered that she lived in London from 78-85 and this song was played a lot on "amateur hour" on several stations, especially university stations. This kind of took me by surprise because i thought she looked younger than me (I'm 39) but she lived in England for college and her first husband in the late 70's??"
"In my last comments i mentioned a bar i went to was going to have a mini concert featuring bands that specialize in black metal and 80's tribute metal and i would play this song to see if any of the band peoples or concert goers would chime in. I did just that and got a few hits on the radar with a few of the band members. The one band, Inviaat, the singer says he remembers this song being played on a radio station in Philly PA for an entire summer because that station was trying to find the band. He does not remember the specific station but said it was near the Taylor University campus (my understanding is that there is several?) because the station thought it was the students from that university's music program. When i asked him when exactly that would have been he said Summer of 1983 because he was married on Halloween 1983 and was hoping the station would find the band so they could play at his wedding. A member from the local band "inductus Mortis" said he recalls that song being played "somewhere in the mid 80's" but does not remember if he heard it in Chicago or Cleveland because he bounced between them. I asked several bands, include the Venom tribute band Poisonous Whisper if anyone had ever heard of a band name Eviscerator from the 80's. Only one person thought he heard the name but it wasn't a band name it was a compilation album of NWOBHM from roughly '83-'84, but couldn't tell me anything other than that. As for the other concert goers, the #1 response i got from them was along the lines of "Dude you can sing, you should go pro!".....in other words they thought it was me promoting myself (I wish i could sing like that!!). the #2 response was people thought it was Manowar. After those 2 the guesses were the usual ones i have seen here and everywhere else this topic comes up: Blackmaine, Axis, Overkill, Overdrive, Black Sabath, Iron Maiden, Anthrax, Slayer, WitchAxe and 2 people even asked if it was an Ozzy Osbourne demo."
"I asked around, including my oldest sisters I've mentioned in my postings, about Eviscerator. The only person who heard of them, the one from this time-frame not the other 8 or 9 bands from the 2000's with that name, said they were a generic ManowaIron Maiden/Judas Priest tribute or more accurately, ripoff, band who sucked. I am not saying I buy this woman's account, but i'm also not discrediting it or calling her a liar. Her familiarity with this song and her accuracy with the lyrics makes me believe she knows this song from somewhere.....what that somewhere is, i can't comment because i don't know?"
"So far my friends and I have several "pings" to look into, the name Eviscerator has absolutely nothing from the time frame we're looking at. But there is (was?) a "Lee Lesaat" Canadian/British "mercenary" (did not belong to any band but would play for others) drummer who now lives in NYC my friends are looking into.
There is an 80's metal/black metal tribute concert this Saturday at the bar I was at last weekend. After the bands play their sets they have an open mic like set up where you can play your own music (as long as it fits the theme). I'm going to try and play this song and see if anyone, bands or crowd or food vendors etc, have any reaction.
And by "pings" I just mean responses/possible possible long shot leads. The guy or girl claiming to be a psychic vampire who time traveled and wrote this song for The Lost Boys movie is NOT going to be one of them😂"
Then someone asks: "What band is this Eviscerator ? I found a band that was formed in 2012 . Furthermore tthe song is not in the metal archives I searched through lyrics was not found." He says: "Allegedly they were in England in the 1980's, but the woman stated 2 of them had New York accents. If all of her account is true and accurate, they were NOT a professional big name band. I did find several bands with the title "Eviscerator" (in different variations) but all of them were from the 2000's. The only "pro" band with that title I could find was a Hungarian band from the mid 2000's. I asked Satanic lady if she remembered any of the other bands that played alongside "Eviscerator" and she only remembered 3: "Band-Shee" (an all female band....get it?) Gargoyle, and Werewolf Tears."
"I have a very very small update for everyone, but it's still an update nonetheless. The mystery succubus looking woman who said this song was by Eviscerator and sang along to it (even when I "accidentally" muted my phone to see if she was just repeating what she was hearing.....she was not) has been identified by my journalist friend! We are going to try and get in contact with her and see if there is anything else she can remember about "Eviscerator" that could help. I'm not going to get my hopes up, but her familiarity with this songs lyrics and the fact she sang almost in perfect synch with the beat makes me feel she really did know this song from somewhere in her past. That or she is a very good actress? Lol
I found only 1 solid, confirmed band with that name but they were from mid 2000's Hungary. But several peoples now and then tell me they remember hearing that name in the 80's as various things; crappy garage band, NWOHBM compilation album/work, some sort of event space or name, most recently someone claimed he thought it was the stage name of a singer but didn't know who or what band. I'm trying to get in touch with the woman who originally mentioned that name."
He posted this comment that lead nowhere: "2 very small updates for everyone:
1) The Viking/Pagan/Goth/Black Metal themed bar just around the corner from me is having a New Years event tomorrow night. They actually agree to give me a "booth" where i can have a "guess this song" set up. And, it will be right next to where the bands play...I'm going to be between the "stage" and the food truck lol
2) The one radio station i submitted this song to will play it on their "X hour" on 1/8/24. It is not a hugely popular segment, maybe a few hundred listeners, but it's better than nothing.
Here's to the New Year and hope this song and numerous others get solved!"
"So the station played this song Sunday night/Monday morning. They played it 4 times between 2:07am - 3:12am. They received 9 calls about it and about a dozen emails (I seriously didn't know they had an email!?!?!?). Unfortunately the majority of contacts were people either asking for them to replay it or people thinking it was Manowar. There were a few Iron Maidens and one or 2 Ozzy Osborne's. Only 2 people stated they heard this song before. Unfortunately they heard it from "some kilt wearing guy at blank bar plays it, I think it's him self promoting". Yes that's me they referenced and no it is not me singing lol"
He suggest matrixx as a possibility: "There's a band called matrixx that has been giving me interest. They were only around for two years due to financial struggles in their stage. If you look up attaxe and fiinal notice they share two members of matrixx. Their drummer and guitarist sound very similar to the band from this song. It's pretty crazy too because they have a song called defy the king. They also had a label to produce their songs which is called Suma Recording Studios. This may be the reason why the audio sounds too good for a small band. I hope that this is the band! Too many good clues that I found"
He debunks the Steven Lindfield lead: "One of the names thrown about here and there on posts about this song is a Steven Linfield ("Lindi") who bounced between Chicago and NYC in the 1980's. His alleged involvement varries between being the DJ who allegedly played it on a NYC station, to being a Chicago stations record manageclerk etc etc. I got in contact with him yesterday. He denies having ANYTHING to do with the airing of this song and does not know how or why his name came up. While he did work at 2 stations (NYC, then Chicago during the summer) he was an overnight watchman (security). However, he does recall this song being played on "some amateur hour crapshoot" in '86 in NYC a bunch of times. At that point in '86 he claims people were referencing it as "The King Song" or "The song of the King" (drawn out to match the singers "The Faaaalllll, the fall of the kiiiiiing") and it was already 2 or 3 years old at that time. He did explain that at least at the Chicago station there was an amateur drop-off slot that the dj's would pick through and play random "no namers" labeling them as "space filler". Because they would be played, literally just to fill space, they were NOT mandated to keep any records of them. Sometimes the dj's would just make up names to some of these. One of his main duties was to check the drop-off to make sure there were no bad things thrown in there instead of cassettes. Another dead end, but at least we rulled out one theory......silver lining??😂 LINDFIELD, not Linfield. Darn autocorrect on this phone."
He is convinced it's a professional band's demo: Thats why a lot people I have introduced to this song think it's a professional band, or at the extreme least an amateur band playing with top level equipment/sponsor? 1983 guy stated they sound like they have equipment his garage band "couldn't even afford to dream about looking at yet alone use". It's also one of the reasons my 2 oldest sisters insist this is a professional band (sister #1 says Manowar, #2 says Manowar or Sarissa) because there are no goofs or mistakes or errors. My sisters gave an example of a garage band from their Kutztown university days, "Freefall Abyss" that self released a demo and in one song you can hear a telephone ringing in the background and in another you can hear a fan or ac unit going.
He contacted a girl named Della: "This song was actually played on an old Philly/NJ station on the segment "Della names your tune" in 2009. I was able to get in contact with "Della" (real name withheld by her request) who at first stated "I played thousands of unnamed songs bud, I probably played this one 100 times, sorry i wont be much help" . Then a few days later replied "I do recall this one, it was sent in from a local listener who had it labeled as Dungeon Master or maybe Dragon Master on a CD with a bunch of old early Manowar, JudaPriest, Iron Maiden, Megadead, Metallica and AngelWitch songs. He or she claimed their father had this song on a tape from his college days. Nobody knew what or who it was back in '09 or '10 and as far as I know nobody figured it out when I left the program in '15." The only name she gave, and I don't know if this was even a real name or the drummers "stage name" was Leopald Lestat.........I do have 2 people looking into it (from a metal dating site of all places). Disclaimer: I know some of those bands are misspelled, I purposefully left it that way because that's how she sent it to me."
"I went down that road, you nailed it right on the head. There is no way to track down who that listener was. The only hint she had, in the form of the note attached to the CD was the person said they were from Radnor PA. I couldn't tell you because the other songs kind of bounce around in terms of year: there's a Judas Priest and an Angel Witch song both from 1980 but then there's a song from Megadeath (I believe Megadeath came out in '85?) and a Metallica song from '86? For some reason my one comment didn't show up? Della gave a pretty big hint, she said the mailing address on the CD was from Radnor PA, but the phone number included was a landline for a Chicago address. Her and the station managers assumed it was a "shadow number" and didn't bother keeping record of it. A lot of her requests had local addresses with out of state phone numbers, cellular and landline."
He suggests Dungeon Masters: "I have a potential lead, "Dungeon Masters" from Pittsburgh PA? Long story short: everyone at work talks about a "hot nerdy chick" who works at the one antique book store in town and she is a music genius and knows EVERY song people play. So i decided to test it. I played this song and she stated "I think thats Dungeon Masters, they were from my hometown of Pittsburgh PA back in the early to late 80's. Thats either Dungeon Masters or someone doing an incredible job imitating them?". Given that Cleveland is only a 2-3 hr drive from Pittsburgh (from what Steelers players say) i think this could be a possible lead and explain the Cleveland recording? Again, this is only a POSSIBLE lead, but i think it has potential?
Currently my one "source" is looking into it. He is not always accurate (as evidenced when we were looking into Conquest) but its better than nothing."
And someone adds this: "Della said the same Dungeon Masters so better look into it"
But he says this: "Close, "Della" stated the listener who sent in the CD had this song labeled as "Dungeon Master?", not a band name. But I am looking into it as best as I can. I found a Pittsburgh band "Dungeon" but they're NOT metal they're an Omnia/Faun like band (neo-folk I think is the term?) formed in 2018. I sent word out to the people I know and my "team". Now it is a waiting game."

I see so many trans people talk about passing as a binary yes/no question like either you pass or you don't and if you pass to one person you pass to everyone and if one person says you pass and someone else doesn't then someone is lying and frankly I think passing when you're in the middle of your transition is like 40-60% on you and 60-40% what your observers are bringing to the table.
Like there's the obvious stuff:
Where do you live? I know I've seen posts from trans women talking about having an easier time passing in majority conservative areas where a man would never be caught dead in a dress so if you're in a dress and don't have a beard then you're read as a woman.
Do you pass better in pictures or IRL? Some people post only their most flattering angles and get mad about being hugboxed by people who don't see things that are visible in a 360. Other people have traits that are "obvious" if you're used to staring at pictures of trans people all day to decide if they pass that never get noticed IRL because they have body language down.
But also so much of it just comes down to the individual you're interacting with and what their experience is. Maybe your cashier has worse eyesight than you expected. Maybe the librarian had a butch aunt so she's always looking to build connections with butches. Maybe the grocery store clerk is an incel who's the only person in fifty miles who actually pays that much attention to jawlines. Maybe you look a bit like the bus driver's sister who has a strong jaw too. Maybe the light in the movie theater happened to create a shadow on your neck that looked like an adam's apple to the attendant, who is also on the shorter side himself. Maybe the guy at the dog park has a high pitched voice too. Maybe the lady at the gym just moved here from Utah and is still very worried about the transes.
Last election, I went up to one desk and the worker there called me "sir" and then passed me along to the next worker who called me "ma'am". Neither one of them hesitated or gave me any kind of looks or gave me any reason to believe they were doing anything but doing bland polite customer service (I live in an area where calling people "sir" and "ma'am" is common)
So, do you pass? There are a lot of things you can do to hedge your bets and increase your odds of being read the way you want to be read, but at the end of the day, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Way more often than we'd like to admit, whether we pass or not has very little to do with us.

What was once the pride and beating heart of Nagorow now reduced to desolate landscape, with the ancient structure barely stands from the impact. Whatever artillery piece was that, I hope I never encounter it again, added with gov'ness telling me to get away from here as quick as possible.
Easy for her to say, when I am carrying her whole weight while she stares at the sky. My suspender was doing well in supporting the binds of her to me, the movement helps little in giving me hopes that my skill with ropes was sufficient, and though my chest began to cool, my back is sweating from the skin contact with her.
My watch barely works anymore, it ticks in place, wasting the battery inside, but the sound it made kept me company when gov'ness herself seems awfully silent from when I met her first. The silent of the woods and the encroaching night force us to rest and made fire, some more challenge.
The gov'ness brows draw her emotion well, as she sees me easily ignites a fire with nothing but Rylanor's knife, leaf, and the head of my belt.
"I apologize if there are no food to be made, gov'ness" I sat and watch the woods, making sure that I am not looking at her indecency.
"There's no need, Musa" her stammers indicate something, but I do not dare to look "you were- you were efficient, to say the least"
I must be doing a poor job up until now, it seems, no reason to argue with the higher-ups, sergeant taught me that.
"That's not to say you were insufficient, I admire how-" does commander of legions that conquered the stars rarely say gratitude? Lucius' reason for jealousy was understandable then "I admire how you took the task at hand and done appropriately, if not better"
"Gov'ness you may rest, I trust you won't wander the woods alone" idle chat with nobility that never saw their underling will grind my head, if kept going, and so I stand and enter the woods, with a torch, to forage the forest's bed
"Of course" her tone shift to something akin to a disappointed child, but I didn't look back.
When you live your entire childhood in strict community, you'd eventually improvise on the go, especially when your family is a cook, the duty in making rations for my village naturally falls into our hands. Those experience taught you what plants was edible and so are mushrooms. And those very experience brought me back to camp with a handful of fruits, as many as one arm and a pair of pockets may allow. I made sure to walk backwards when I reach nearer to the camp.
"I brought food, gov'ness" I roll a round fruit across the camp, hoping the sound of the impact was made by her "we could make a bait for hunting with this" I do not know the merit in telling her I brought mushroom.
Silence greet me, and for a moment I thought she already slept, but the quiet was almost unnatural.
"Gov'ness?" I called, and when that didn't work, I finally brave myself to look at her place. What I thought to be her resting in place, was betrayed the moment I found dragged dirt heading to the woods "Gov'ness!" Rylanor's knife was already in hand as I stand.
And yet I stopped just a foot from the fire, something is weighing me down and it wasn't bounding me physically. Rather, my own mind betrays me, by shackling my feet in place, trying to tell me something, in which I have no choice but to listen.
What's the point of this? Nagorow and the Sejm are no more, the war is no more, and gov'ness' people will eventually came here and enslave us, brought us into compliance as they sent us across the star to die by the hand of monster beyond our imagining. She indirectly killed Maria, she indirectly caused the capital to be blown by that artillery, and now she's running away even when I tried to help her.
Goodness me, I am beyond an idiot. I accept the fact that I am an idiot, my face instinctively being wrapped by my palms as I dropped the knife, instead gripping tightly at my hair, trying to blot out any of these strange feelings with pain. Was it loneliness? Grief? Confusion and rage? A breaking point in insanity? To suffer all my life and finally seeing the end of it?
And before I even noticed, I already knelt on the ground, hands still gripping my hair as I fought the needs to scream, producing pathetic squeals akin to a dying animal. I want it to end, being forced to fight in a war where I would find no benefit, threats of death but never dying. It was a miracle I even managed to refocus back at the capital, after seeing the carnage, but now it would take more than that to distract me from this.
A loud growl of a beast in the woods knock senses into me, and once again my mind betrays me as it quickly pull the knife close to my chest, even when not a moment ago it thought that being dead would finally be relieving. The roar gets higher in tone, meaning its fighting another beast of its own so deep in the night, even deeper in the woods. Moving from the spot could be beneficial if I want to avoid it, and there's nothing holding me back anymore. Not when a familiar voice of a certain commander that her companion calls mother, suddenly rang between the roar.
Not thinking any longer, I quickly grab the torch and run my way to the voice, the cold of night be damned. Does my mind betrays me once again? Not this time, now it is my conscious choice that I made, even knowing that the result would be pointless. If anything, she's the only one I got left.
When the sound of the fighting was near, I can see the gov'ness wrestling a furry beast, and losing quite the blood. The beast throws her to the nearest tree it can swing, before swiping their hands trying to get past her defensive hands. Now or never, then.
My feet ran first, lunging so high that I was able to hook my arm to the neck of the beast, intending to distract it from gov'ness. The beast retaliate, hooking their short yet powerful paws into my left shoulder, the claws piercing my skin and flesh, before throwing me to the tree. And yet I didn't give in, and with a kick, I already ran to the beast, knife in hand as I made body contact with it, plunging my knife between the thick fur and even thicker skin. I knocked some wind out from the beast when we made contact, causing it to stagger, which I used as I wildly stab across its body.
That end when with one swipe from its arm, I was thrown like a doll back to the ground, my knife finally escaped my hand. The beast didn't hesitate to use the advantage as it jump to my position, intending to flatten me out, when I barely escaped it when I pull a root of a tree and slide on the wet ground. Doing so left me with no more escape, as the beast simply stands and gaze over me, with primal hate and anger. If this is to be the end, then good riddance it finally came.
As the beast prepares to flatten me yet again, something crawls on its back, causing it to roar in pain. Strands of silver hair juts out occasionally behind the beast's back as it assuredly went for the neck of the beast. The face of gov'ness, even tattered and ridden with mud, is still as majestic when I first saw it. She finally reach the neck of the beast, efficiently slitting the throat, before another swing and the beast's head escaped its neck and went to her hands.
The beast rolled over, the final semblance of consciousness slowly slip away as it stiffen the muscle. I didn't even noticed gov'ness stumbling away from the beast, even without legs, she's able to wrestle an apex beast, naked, at night, and even killing it. No wonder she's trusted with a legion to conquer planets and stars, if she can do this unarmed, compared to me, I am a speck of harmless dust.
"Musa, you came?" she finally speaks, her hands grabbing the torch to light up the night "Musa, I- I can explain" she stammers as she watches me slowly stand and stumble across to her "truly, I have an explanation for this, and it was not base on selfish -"
I ignore everything and went to gently wrap her neck with my hands, the pain on my shoulder didn't stop me as I clung my weak and fragile form to her. My barely muscular body to her finely tuned body, hers heating over my increasingly cold body. After everything, she's the only thing I know, the only thing I respect, and its enough for me to cherish it before I could die. Fate was never kind anyway, its a good thing to finally spite it after so long.
"Let's get back to camp, gov'ness" I knew the futility in this, we could die here after wrestling a beast, or she could ran away yet again.
"But the beast! I hunted the beast so we could eat, something for the-"
"Gov'ness, please" I went to the tattered remains of my belt and makeshift rope, tying it to her so I could carry her "let's just return and rest"
"Of course, apologies" I didn't notice the way she's facing and I could care less in fixing it, her breath warming my neck along with her body with mine "I dearly apologize, Musa, truly I do" she wraps her arms to me, more heat for me as I stumble in my return to the camp, the lingering effects of adrenaline slowly depletes. I was lucky that the effects were gone once we finally made it to camp.
I collapse on the ground, tasting the wet soil as the cold night slowly consumes me, making me forgot to sat gov'ness down. I was useless and inefficient right to the very end, and I hope what I did was enough for everyone involved,

I sit alone in my room on the seventh floor, writing what will surely be my last will and testament. The heroin which allowed me to forget and to sleep for the last couple of years has lost its power to keep the screaming terrors away. The drug destroyed my body and mind, gradually eating away at them like a corrosive acid. Now I have become a slave to it. And yet, without it, I do not sleep for weeks, but instead continuously see the scenes from that terrible night running through my head on repeat as worsening waves of madness crash on the shores of my consciousness.
In the caverns under the town of Frost Hollow, I found the meaning of true madness. Ever since I escaped that den of horrors, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is only the feverish delirium of an unhinged mind.
Even now, they wait behind the door to this cheap, bare rented room. They drag their claws over the wood. I hear them hissing in that strange, ancient tongue, the one I first heard in the tombs of rock that had been undisturbed for countless millennia.
***
I had first heard rumors of an unexplored cavern from my friend, an experienced caver named Sonia who had explored caverns all over the world. I had been looking for some excitement in my life, some break from the constant monotony and boredom of simply working and sleeping. I had gone caving quite a few times over the year leading up to the trip, but I was not nearly as experienced and had never explored a supposedly virgin passageway of cavern before.
“How do you know no one’s gone down there?” I asked, curious. We sat across from each other at a local diner, getting some early breakfast before our planned descent. The sunrise was still another half-hour away, the sky flat and dark. We would be joined by Sonia’s husband, Phil, who would meet us there shortly after sunrise. I repressed an urge to yawn, chugging half of the steaming hot coffee in one long swallow. Sonia leaned close to me, her nearly colorless blue eyes reminding me of chunks of ice floating down a muddy stream.
“Phil’s friend just found it randomly,” she whispered before glancing around conspiratorially, as if she feared someone would care enough to eavesdrop on a conversation about a cave. “Well, it’s in the middle of a farm, and Phil’s friend, Jack Graysole, owns the entire property and surrounding woods. Jack says he noticed the cows kept going over to a certain spot in the field when it got really hot during the summertime. They would all gather around this little indentation in the grass. After seeing it a few times, Jack got curious and went to investigate what the cows were doing.
“He found a small hole in the ground, almost entirely covered by weeds and grass. He said he felt a cool breeze constantly blowing out of the hole, a breeze that smelled like burning matches and charred metal. After bringing out some shovels and digging down a couple feet, Jack realized that the hole wasn’t a hole at all, but the beginning of a steep passageway leading deep into the bowels of the earth.”
***
The owner of the land decided to unofficially call the newly-discovered cavern Graysole Caverns. Out of respect for him, this is also the name we all used. This is the story of how I found myself in the bowels of a strange subterranean tunnel, a tunnel where creatures beyond my comprehension slunk and hunted, skittering monstrosities who would be more at home in a nightmare.
After grabbing a couple coffees to take with us, Sonia drove over to Graysole Farms. Cows stood out in the grassy fields, huddled in tight circles as they repetitively chewed. The thin silhouette of Jack Graysole waited for us next to the herd. He had a face like a raisin, I thought to myself. I watched his thin, shaking body standing in the middle of an overgrown grassy field. Jack stared down blankly at something only he could see. Sonia and I started unloading some equipment from the car while we waited for Phil.
Once we had the backpacks loaded with some simple supplies, such as water, food, headlamps, rope, a couple extra batteries, some buck knives, and radios, we headed over to accompany Jack. We weren’t taking much, as we didn’t really expect to be down there for more than six or seven hours at the most.
Jack Graysole’s withered old face was as slack and expressionless as that of a corpse. He stared down at the ground as if he were in a trance, waving back and forth slowly on his feet like a plant in a light breeze.
“Jack?” Sonia called out as we approached. I could hear the man’s teeth chattering as we got nearer.
“Hey, what are you doing over here this early? You interested in accompanying us down there?” Sonia joked. But Jack might as well have been totally deaf for all the reaction he gave. Sonia glanced over at me with an anxious expression. I wondered if the old man was having a stroke.
I quickly walked over to where he stood, staring down at a black circular hole about three feet across directly in front of his feet. The entrance to Graysole Caverns stared up at us like a sightless pupil. As I drew within a few feet of Jack and looked straight into his blank eyes, I noticed something alarming.
His pupils were quickly dilating and constricting before my eyes. They would shrink to tiny pinpoints, then, a couple seconds later, rapidly expand until they became dark and serious. I could see his thready, rapid heartbeat pulsating in a vein on the side of his temple. Alarmed, I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he came to life, like a man waking up from a nightmare. Shrieking, he looked at me with fully dilated pupils, reminding me of a panicked deer surrounded by wolves. His quavering old man’s voice shook with ineffable existential horror and mortal fear.
He took a step back away from us, seeming to realize where he was and what he was doing. He looked around, confused, then straight at me and Sonia. His eyes focused with anger and fear, as if we were demons here to drag him down to Hell. His eyes flicked back and forth between us constantly. Jack raised a trembling hand and pointed it straight at my heart.
“It’s you,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His teeth chattered despite the warm spring air. His skin looked deathly pale. “You’re the one who will bring an end to humanity, who will release the ruler of nightmares upon us.” He continued to point accusingly for a long moment at me, his face turning chalk-white. Then his eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he stumbled and fell backwards onto the soft grass of the field.
“Jack!” Sonia cried, running over to the old man. Jack’s breaths had started to come in slow, drawn-out gurgles, like a man with a slit throat trying to breathe. Frothy blood bubbled from his lips as they turned blue. Staring up at the endless expanse of cloudless sky, he exhaled one last shuddering breath and died.
***
Phil showed up only a couple minutes later. He found me and Sonia in a state of utter panic, both of us bent double over the still body of Jack. Sonia was on the phone with 911, and I was trying to give Jack chest compressions. The way his fingernails and lips shone with that cyanotic blue cast made me feel sick and weak. I knew it was futile, that I was simply playing with a corpse at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt if I didn’t do something, I might explode.
I heard the faint wailing of sirens approaching as Sonia’s panicked voice continued babbling to the 911 operator. Phil stood by her side, his tall, dark features searching and lost.
“Oh God, I think he’s dead!” Sonia cried over and over to the operator, as if she thought the operator could do anything about it. I didn’t hear what the operator said in response. As the ambulance pulled in, I gave up on chest compressions. I stood up and took a step back, looking sadly down on the kindly old man’s dead body.
The paramedics ran over. Phil, Sonia and I stood back while they worked on the corpse, trying to shock the heart back into life. But Jack’s open eyes stayed glazed as they stared sightlessly up into eternity.
***
The paramedics left. A couple police officers stayed behind to ask us a few routine questions. Eventually, after an hour or so, they left, too.
“What a fucked-up day,” Phil said, shaking his head grimly. “Do you guys still want to do this? Maybe it’s an omen from God telling us to go home.” Sonia and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded at the same time.
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s sad what happened to Jack, but realistically, we don’t know what’s going to happen to this property now that he’s passed away. It might get sold or taken by the bank for all we know. This could be our one and only chance to explore this cave.”
“I don’t believe in omens. I’m still down,” I said, feeling slightly sick from the experience. I still remembered how Jack’s body had cracked under the weight of my chest compressions, how his ribs had snapped like bones shattering in greedy hands. “We’ll do it in memory of Jack. I plan to put this up on YouTube.” I pulled my GoPro out of my bag, turning it on. Phil groaned at that.
“Do we have any idea how far down this cave goes?” Phil asked. I felt a sense of relief now that the topic had changed from the death of the old man.
“I sent a little camera down on a rope, but it only went about a hundred feet,” Sonia responded. “It’s pretty steep at first, then it levels out. I couldn’t really see much after it leveled out, but it looks like it should be easy to climb down. There’s plenty of handholds, lots of jutting rocks.”
Phil put on his headlamp and small pack. As he crawled down into the hole, his tanned face looked up at us and gave us one last devilish grin. Once he had gone down a few dozen feet, Sonia started descending. She looked excited and happy. I noticed how she couldn’t stop smiling as she disappeared from view.
I watched their lights grow smaller and dimmer in the circular tunnel. I marveled at how perfectly circular the entrance was. It almost didn’t even look natural.
Taking a deep breath in, I followed my friends down into the dark.
***
“This isn’t too bad,” I said as I climbed down. The jutting rocks gave plenty of handholds and footholds for us. It wasn’t so tight that it felt like a coffin, either.
“It only gets easier from here!” Sonia called up.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said you’ve never been here before.” She laughed.
“I know. Probably just wishful thinking,” she said. Far below us, Jack’s voice drifted up, faint and weak. He had already reached the bottom.
“The tunnel really opens up down here, guys,” he called. “It’s somewhat… bizarre, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sonia asked. I looked down, seeing Sonia and I would reach the bottom in seconds. “Forget it, I’ll let it be a surprise.” I heard her drop down. Slowly and carefully, I lowered myself down the last few feet. There was a short fall onto a smooth granite floor. I looked up, seeing what Phil and Sonia were so mesmerized by.
“Oh, wow,” I said, speechless. I blinked rapidly, wondering if the image would clear like a mirage. The tunnel was cut into a perfectly triangular shape, each side about seven feet long. The ceiling met in a point above our heads.
All along the smooth walls of gray rock, I saw thousands of black orbs peeking out. They looked similar to obsidian, but they were perfectly smooth and circular, each about the size of an orange. They were formed into interlocking diagonal patterns and followed the tunnel straight down as far as the eye could see.
“What is this place?” Sonia asked, taking a tentative step forward. I looked up, seeing the distant pinpoint of sunlight far above our heads. Our voices continued to echo off down the massive tunnels, disappearing in eerie waves into the thick curtain of shadows.
“Are you recording all this?” Phil asked me. I laughed, giddy.
“Of course! This is internet gold right here,” I said. “No one’s going to believe that this isn’t man-made, however. I can’t even believe it. Do you think Jack was playing a joke on us or something?”
“Jack had the sense of humor of a wet paper towel,” Phil whispered, shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Sonia said, taking a step forward. Her headlamp bobbed up and down rapidly, throwing dancing shadows through the triangular tunnel. It continued straight ahead, without the slightest deviation or curve, disappearing off into a dark point in the distance.
***
We walked as fast as we could, excited to see where, if anywhere, the strange tunnel led. Phil, always the conspiracy theorist, babbled excitedly.
“This has to be aliens, man,” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I bet that scientists will find out this shit is millions of years old when we get back up and tell everyone. Maybe aliens came to earth in ancient times and made a bunch of stuff underground.” Gradually, as we walked, I noticed the tunnel opening up. The pointed triangular ceiling rose up higher above our heads and the walls moved outwards, as we were walking up a triangular funnel. At first, it was so subtle that I didn’t believe it when Sonia pointed it out.
“No, look,” she said, raising her hand above her head. “When we first started down this weird tunnel, my fingers were only maybe a foot away from the top. Now it’s a couple feet.” I was about to respond when our headlamps illuminated something standing in the middle of the tunnel.
“What the fuck is that?” I whispered, stopping cold in my tracks. Phil and Sonia looked up at the abomination at the same time. Its back was to us. It stood nearly as tall as the tunnel, which was now about twenty feet high.
The bottom half looked black and spidery with dozens of long, jointed legs. A bloody, white spine rose out of the mass of legs. Inhumanly long, skeletal arms stretched out in front of it. Its face was pointed away from us, but the back of its head resembled an enormous pointed skull with deep fissures like the cracks of an earthquake running through the bone. The abomination stayed as still as a statue, and for a long moment, I wondered if we were looking at some macabre work of art.
Then, suddenly, one of its insectile legs twitched. A moment later, the other legs started jerking and twisting. There was a sound like bones shattering as it rose up to its full height, turning around to face us.
Its face was like something from a nightmare, melting and reforming constantly like dripping candle wax. I would see a black eye appear on its forehead, then a grinning mouth on its chin, then the features would get sucked back into the folds of melting flesh. After a few moments, two enormous eyes appeared on its face, dark and cold like craters on the surface of the Moon. The mouths and noses disappeared back into the dripping skin, and only the two lidless eyes remained, emanating a cold, reptilian consciousness beyond the ability of my mind to comprehend. I felt terror radiating from its body like freezing waves.
“Free me,” it cried in a gurgling voice that seethed with insanity. It had a shrieking, metallic ringing behind every word that gave it an alien quality. “Free me, and I will give you the waters of eternal life. Within me, I contain the seeds of immortality. Within the nightmares, we live forever, always together, never alone.”
“Who are you?” I asked, terrified. The black reptilian skin of the enormous beast glistened as it knelt down, its massive face drawing near to mine. A sideways mouth burst out of the liquified flesh, showing hundreds of fangs growing like tumors from its white, bloodless gums. The fangs varied in size from only a couple inches to long, sword-like projections that stabbed into the creature’s flesh, causing white blood glittering with rainbows to fall like raindrops all around me.
“I have many names,” it hissed, its thousand voices rising and falling in crashing waves of sound. “I was present at the beginning, when this planet was no more than dead cliffs and endless freezing oceans. Those holy ones who search for us, the ancient ones, call me Niralahoth.”
“How do we free you?” Phil asked, looking terrified. He held Sonia’s hand tightly.
“By letting me into your mind and body,” Niralahoth cried, shaking the cavern. “I was thrown down here, cursed and forgotten. I cannot leave this place of shadows within this body. But in the body of another, my consciousness can be free, and the seeds of new life can spread beyond this prison.”
“There’s no way anyone’s going to do that,” I said, my eyes widening as Niralahoth’s reptilian skull turned towards me in fury. “I mean, you’re asking one of us to give up our individuality, our lives, right?”
“I am asking you to become one with me and gain power undreamt of by mortals,” it cried. “I have within me the fountain of life, the waters that send death away screaming.” I glanced anxiously at Phil and Sonia, wondering if we would have to run.
“The answer is no,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we can’t do that,” Phil said, backing me up. “But, anyways, I think our trip has ended. It’s time to turn around…”
“You will never return,” Niralahoth cried, skittering away from us. “If you will not accept salvation, then you must accept death.” Within seconds, it slunk away from us, backpedaling on its many skittering legs into the shadows.
***
All around us, a rumbling started.
There was a pounding that crashed through the rock tunnel, as if an insane blacksmith were hammering on a massive anvil. The ringing of crashing rock started off slowly, with a few stones smashing down around us with heavy blasts of sound. Within seconds, the cacophony sped up, rising into a constant stream of destruction. The black orbs were spinning in place all up and down the tunnel, their glossy obsidian surfaces flashing with sparks of blue light.
“It’s collapsing!” Phil cried, running back in the direction we came, holding Sonia’s hand as she tried to keep up with him. I could only stare for a long moment, not sure what to do. It seemed that the direction Phil was heading stood closer to total collapse.
“Wait!” I cried, but my voice was drowned out in the destruction all around us. I felt a rock smash into my shoulder, sending me down to my feet. I heard Phil give a scream of pain, then another stone came down and smashed into my forehead. I remember seeing everything spinning around me as the world went black.
***
I awoke to find my headlamp still shining straight up in the dusty tunnel. Large chunks of the tunnel had slid out of place and crashed to the stone floor. The granite chunks that had fallen looked unnaturally smooth, most of them in the shapes of cylinders or cubes and varying in size from that of an egg to that of a small car.
My head throbbed. It felt as if a tight belt of fire were wrapped around my temples. Groaning, I put my fingers up to my forehead. They came away slick with blood.
Slowly, I started pushing myself up on my feet. I was relieved that nothing seemed broken. I had a deep gash running from the center of my scalp down to my left temple and some shallower cuts on my shoulders and back, but I knew none of that was life-threatening.
“Sonia?” I whispered, my voice coming out weak and strained. I reached into my pack and found a bottle of water. I chugged it quickly in one long swallow.
“Phil?” I cried again, this time stronger. I heard a soft weeping nearby. Staggering, I followed the sound.
Sonia was bloody and covered in cuts and scrapes, sitting next to Phil’s prone form. I saw Phil’s right arm pinned under a massive slab of granite. His arm disappeared from the elbow down in a spreading puddle of thick, dark blood.
“Oh God, Max, I think he’s hurt really bad,” she wept. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly in his head, his face pale and bloodless. I looked down the way we had come, seeing the entire tunnel blocked by large slabs of stone, many with strange, black orbs peeking out like the lenses of cameras.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. My phone died after a day, and then we were counting the endless darkness in breaths and tears.
Phil swam in and out of consciousness as his arm putrefied and blackened around the crush site. After a couple days, Sonia and I agreed that something had to be done. We told Phil we would need to amputate his arm. He was half-delirious, but he came back long enough to understand us and nod weakly.
We made a fire with Phil’s pack, trying to find fuel to throw in it to get it roaring. As it grew, I saw one of the black orbs near the flames abruptly ignite, as if it had been covered in gasoline. Blue, almost colorless flames rose from its surface. We started throwing the small black orbs on the fire until it rose high in the air. I sanitized the buck knife with the flames and pulled a rope tourniquet tight around Phil’s arm. He was conscious but seemingly insane, talking to himself more than anyone else.
“How are we going to get the car started without a key?” he gurgled to someone only he could see. “We need to look around. It has to be here somewhere.”
“Phil, can you hear me, bud? We need to fix your arm. We need to get you out of this mess. OK?” I said as comfortingly as I could. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly, but they didn’t meet my own. I sighed and looked over at Sonia.
“Let’s do it,” I said, giving a grim nod.
I pulled the buck knife out, slicing quickly down through the flesh next to the tourniquet. His veins throbbed like fat worms as the blackened, necrotic skin split easily under the blade, releasing a rancid-smelling gas that hissed out of the wound.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to slice all the way through the arm. It felt like I was stuck in that hellish task forever. Phil’s eyes rolled in his head as his skin turned the color of clotted milk.
“God, Jesus, make it stop,” Phil whispered over and over, exhaling ragged, pain-filled breaths. The blood spurted from the blackened, dying tissue all over the dust-covered cavern floor, covering my hands in its warm, slick embrace.
After what was probably only three or four minutes, but felt like hours, I had sliced all the way down to the bone. The infected tissue of his arm spurted great gouts of orange pus mixed with rivulets of blood. The hard part was over.
Standing up, I took my steel-toe sneaker and stomped down on his arm as hard as I could. Phil cried out in a powerful voice, as if all the agony and suffering in the world was contained in that one shriek. The bone snapped under my weight with a sound like a tree branch cracking. A moment later, Phil rolled away from the rock that had pinned me in place for so long. Something alien and spongy was shoved into my face, a mass of destroyed red tissue pulsating in time with a runaway heartbeat. At first, shell-shocked and revolted, my mind couldn’t comprehend that I was looking at the stump of Phil’s mutilated arm. I hardened my heart and forced the giddiness and madness to the back of my mind. The time had come to cauterize the wound.
“Sonia, give it to me,” I said with a tremor in my voice. I reached out a hand towards her, a hand stained with Phil’s blood. It looked as if I were wearing a wet, crimson glove. Sonia only stared blankly at me for a long moment, however. A surge of anger ran up my chest.
“Sonia, toughen the fuck up! He’s going to die if you just sit there!” I swore at her, hearing my deep, angry voice bounce around the caverns. Sonia pulled back, as if she were struck. Inwardly, I cursed having a woman as my only able-bodied companion in this situation. She was a competent enough caver, but what would happen if violence and blood came over us? What would happen if, or more realistically when, we needed to fight?
Grimly, Sonia leaned forward and yanked the burning black orb out of the roaring fire, handing it to me on the end of a buck knife that had just barely pierced its hard, strange exterior. The handle of the knife felt coarse and splintery under my filthy skin. I put it to the spongy stump of Phil’s arm. The stump twitched violently. Phil tried to pull away as black smoke rose from the burning flesh.
There was a smell like bacon sizzling. The searing meat of Phil’s arm blackened and crisped under the heat of the orb, which had become no more than a cylinder of glowing blue embers by this point. I felt simultaneously sick and giddy. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or vomit. I felt like I was on the verge of some kind of madness, that the stress and insanity of the experience had started to shatter my mind.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he appeared to go into a seizure for a few seconds. With a long exhalation of breath, he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness. It’s hard to admit it, even this close to the end, but a small, sick piece of me was jealous of Phil. Most likely, he would be dead soon, maybe within hours, while Sonia and I would slowly starve and dehydrate like animals over a period of weeks. I looked at her lithe body and soft skin, seeing the feminine curves of her hips and chest. She was a beautiful woman. I knew Phil to be a lucky man. At least, before this trip, he was.
I watched her body, wondering if I had what it took to eat her or Phil if I had to. Did I have an iron heart that would allow me to slice into my friends and consume their raw, cold flesh? Perhaps, by that point, it would be hunger and madness driving me forward, and I wouldn’t even hesitate. I shuddered at the very thought.
***
I fell asleep that night, having strange dreams of massive gods with melting faces sitting in judgment in a circle around me. We had very little food or water left. No one knew we were down here. Rescue was not coming.
When I awoke, I found myself alone. Phil had died from his injuries while I slept, the black streaks of septic shock spreading up his arm towards his heart. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the rock ceiling.
“Sonia?” I called out, my heart racing as I sat up. “Where are you?” My headlamp was growing dim. I looked in my pack, realizing I was on the last of my batteries. I saw a silhouette walking out of the darkness, the thin, pale form of Sonia. She was trembling badly.
“I saw them,” she said. “Niralahoth and its priests. The priests aren’t human. They look reptilian with sideways mouths and too many eyes.” She shuddered.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. Her eyes grew distant.
“You know we’re not getting out of here alive,” she said. “Not on our own. I wanted to see what it offered. It says that if we take a piece of its nightmare into us, we will gain the power to leave this place, that it simply wants to see the surface and spread its nightmares there.” I shook my head.
“Insanity,” I muttered. “We’d be better off dead.” Sonia nodded.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responded grimly. I didn’t realize what she meant until the next day, when I woke up and found her hanging next to Phil’s body, her tongue swollen and blue as it poked out of her cyanotic lips. And then I was truly alone.
***
Soon after Sonia committed suicide, the last of the batteries for the headlamp died. I had run out of food and had only a small sip of water left. I don’t know how much time passed in the darkness, starving and raving, following the tunnel by running my hands over the walls. I heard many things skittering in the darkness, and a few times, I heard the demonic voice of Niralahoth as it split and distorted.
“You are on death’s door,” it hissed. “Will you not drink from the fountain of life?” I couldn’t tell where the voice came from in the maddening blackness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I had lost nearly all of my sanity in that pit of shadows by this point. I tried laughing constantly to keep my spirits up, and when that failed, I simply cried.
“I’ll do it,” I wailed. “I’ll do it. Just let me see the sky again. Get me out of here, Niralahoth.” Everything went deathly silent all around me, then a laugh rang out like the grinding of glass.
In front of me, I saw a tornado of fire descending from the ceiling, surrounding the massive, spidery form of Niralahoth. It rose its skeletal arms upwards, as if it were Zeus calling down lightning. In the sudden brightness, I saw the fiery form of snakes slithering and centipedes skittering forwards in that tornado, each massive creature sculpted from flames in the spinning cyclone of energy. Niralahoth reached into the tornado of fire with its sharp points of fingers and plucked something small from it. The fire instantly dissipated. In its hand, I saw a tiny, swirling orb that looked like it contained a firestorm within it.
“The nightmare seed,” Niralahoth gurgled as it skittered forward towards me. I could only stare, open-mouthed and starving. I hadn’t slept for days, it felt like, and everything seemed slow and unreal.
In a blur, its skeletal arm shot out and forced the orb into my mouth. Despite the fire raging within it, it felt freezing cold. As it touched my tongue, it gave off a sensation like frostbite all throughout my mouth. I screamed and tried spitting it out, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. It started liquifying, dripping down my throat.
I felt something cancerous and sick spreading throughout my body, radiating out from my heart and stomach to every inch of it. I tried to scream, but it caught behind my teeth. I fell to my knees, clawing at my face as that insane, alien laugh continued resounding all down the tunnel. I fell unconscious and woke up under a beautiful sky in the fields of Graysole Farms.
***
Soon after, I realized that my life would never be the same. Everywhere I went, I could hear the wailing voice of Niralahoth. Behind the trees, I always saw skittering shadows, creatures with long, spidery legs that stalked me every day and night. I slept with every light in the house turned on, yet when I woke up, they would all be shut off, and I would find myself in darkness, next to something in the bed with far too many legs and a face that dripped like burning wax.
I sold everything I owned and tried to move far away, to give as much distance between myself and those cursed caverns as I could, but the nightmares followed me like a shadow. I realize what a fool I was in those ephemeral moments of madness. Sonia was much wiser than myself; I should have killed myself or died rather than allowing that thing inside of me.
Even now, I can feel it creeping through my heart, spreading through my blood. I feel it trying to crawl its way out of my throat, the thin, black legs peeking out at the back of my esophagus.
I only hope that, when I finally jump and feel my bones shatter against the concrete far below, I will kill whatever is inside of me. For I fear the consequences for the world if it were to escape.

[Part 1]
Day 3
I woke the next morning from the sunshine in my eyes. My head was resting ever so slightly on Eli's arm as we had both fallen asleep on my bed after I begged him to stay. I blanched in horror at the drool stain I had left on the arm of his white t-shirt.
I began to slowly move myself and retreat downstairs as the memories of the night before came flooding back. How I had broken, screaming in terror, and how Eli had saved me, not knowing the true reason he found me curled up on the floor crying.
As I stepped off the bed, my leg got snagged in the frilly bed cover, and I went crashing to the ground, making quite the noise as I landed. With a yawn, Eli's eyes opened, and I felt myself blushing as he turned to look at me.
We both kind of stared at each other for a moment, not speaking. Eli opened his mouth, then closed it again as if unsure of what to say.
"Coffee?" I asked quickly, filling the awkwardness of our situation.
"Please," Eli said, smiling.
In minutes, I had a pot brewing as I leaned against the kitchen counter. Eli was picking up the scattered photographs from the floor and looking at them quizzically.
"Why do you have pictures of the Harmons?" Eli asked, showing me the photos of the yellow-haired man and his family.
"Is that their names? I found them out in the barn under a blanket," I answered as I rooted around the cupboards for two mugs.
"In the barn? I cleaned it out just last week. No way I would have missed this trunk," Eli said while examining the wooden trunk with its simple rustic hinges. It was plain and unadorned with any embellishments. Basic as basic could be.
"Well, you must have missed it because it was there," I said, putting emphasis on the "was" in a way that reminded me of my mother chastising my father.
"That's so weird," he said, shifting through the photos while sitting at the table. I brought him a cup of coffee and sugar, and he began absentmindedly adding a lot of sugar to his coffee. About six scoops later, he began stirring and sipping it.
"Well, anyways, thanks for coming last night. I wasn't myself, I hope you know that I'm not some damsel in distress," I said quickly, like word vomit, and I even chuckled at the end, feeling like a total weirdo.
"What happened anyway? You didn't say last night," he said, putting the photos down in a jumble on the table.
I paused for a moment, considering how to answer. As I sipped my coffee, I stared out into the yard beside the barn where the scarecrow stood, glancing around the edge of the barn, hanging limply in his hole. His appearance once again sad and dejected instead of murderous and terrifying.
"I was just scared, I had a nightmare, and it just scared me," I said dumbly, trying not to turn crimson again under his intense gaze.
His eyes seemed to cut right through my lie, as if he were staring directly into my being before he simply glanced away out the window. We fell silent again, and I filled some moments by sipping my drink. It seemed to revitalize me; the sun and the company made me feel secure.
"Why were you here anyways?" I asked after a moment.
"I heard screaming, so I came running. I live just on the other side of the grass there, behind the barn," Eli said, pointing to the barn out the window.
"Must be really close, I didn't see any houses on the way in," I said, prying deeper into the situation.
"It's actually a trailer, maybe like two hundred yards from here. I was outside getting some air when I heard you scream. So, I came running," Eli said, finishing his cup of coffee and placing it in between us like a barrier, as if he was hiding something.
"Could you, uh, not do that?" Eli asked, with an uncertain grin on his face.
"What am I doing exactly?" I asked, startled for a moment, my stomach doing a sort of flip.
"It's just that you like stare at people. You've been staring at me for like my whole cup of coffee, I don't think you blinked the whole time," Eli said, averting his eyes shyly.
"No, I don't," I said until I realized he was right. I never noticed that about myself.
"Right, well, I've got to go. I am probably going to start painting today, so you might see me in a bit," Eli said, rising and heading to the door.
"Wait," I said, grabbing his arm for only a moment before releasing it like it was scalding hot.
Eli glanced at my hand for a moment, then at his arm, before he, too, blushed crimson.
"I just wanted to say thank you again. For last night, I mean. Well, what I mean is I appreciate it," I said, my eyes downcast in, for some reason, shame. Like he had seen me at my weakest and it weighed on my gaze appropriately.
"It was nothing, besides I didn't get much sleep with your constant snoring," Eli said, laughing at me.
"I so don't snore," I said, swatting at him but unable to control a smile creeping up onto my face.
After Eli left, I felt instantly colder, my eyes kept returning to the scarecrow. I grabbed my camera from upstairs and went out to the yard. I scanned the dirt for anything out of the ordinary. There was no blood, or anything on the dirt where the scarecrow stood just last night. I slowly made my way to the scarecrow, but nothing happened. I snapped a photo of the inanimate object, and it didn't even flinch. I poked it, but all I felt was straw underneath its clothes. I removed its mask, expecting a severed head, but it was just straw. Nothing was here but straw. I dropped the mask on the ground and took another photo proving it was just straw and nothing else.
An idea struck me as I regarded the source of my torment. If I planned to stay even one more night here, I needed to do something about this scarecrow. I rooted around in the barn, a series of tools hung from nails in the wall. On one hung what I was searching for. An old rusted shovel with a dirty wooden handle that was worn smooth from use.
I returned to the side of the barn beside the scarecrow, knowing for whatever reason this thing only came when night fell and didn't react at all when I moved or touched it during the day.
Before my morning coffee had even settled, I began to dig at the dusty earth, loose and easy to dig, it came away in shovelfuls. Within an hour, I had a fair-sized hole in front of me. Sweat dripped from my brow, and when I wiped under my eyes, they came away black from last night's makeup. Glancing at the field of grass and knowing Eli could appear at any time, I decided to head inside and shower. The hot water was a godsend, and I lingered for longer, letting the water drain down my head and back, my eyes closed, trying to forget the images from the last two nights. I should just pack up my car and leave right this minute. But how could I explain this to my family? I decided to go through with my plan and bury the scarecrow. I could last one more night if I prepared for it.
I left the shower and dressed modestly, in another one of my old rock t-shirts and a pair of shorts. I returned to the yard and with a satisfying push, I dropped the scarecrow into the pit. It fell with a nice thud, and I smiled at my power over it in the day; it's just at night when I should fear it.
As I threw the first shovel of dirt back on top, I heard a noise in the grass, and it parted, revealing Eli wearing the same pair of jeans and work boots, but he had changed his shirt to a plain black one. In each hand, he held cans of paint and a brush.
"Should I even ask why you are burying that old scarecrow?" He asked as he came to stand beside me.
"Probably best if you didn't," I admitted, leaning on the shovel.
"Well, I'm going to anyway. Polly, why are you burying that old scarecrow?" He asked, a rare smile coming to his face.
"Because it's been haunting me at night," I said bluntly.
"Mhm, yeah, okay. Fine, don't tell me. I've been meaning to get rid of it anyway, but normal people take things to the landfill," Eli said with a smirk as he turned to the house and began setting up for his painting.
I finished burying the scarecrow and stomped the dirt down flat. I finished my job by moving my car and parking it directly over top of the spot where I buried it.
Eli watched me curiously but didn't remark. I returned the shovel to the barn and went out into the yard. I decided to go for a hike around the property. I needed some time alone to think and unwind.
As I made my way through the grass, it began to confuse me. This had obviously been a large farmland, but how had the wild plants grown in such a thick, endless maze of greenery?
It gave me an eerie feeling, like I was being watched as the grass covered three-quarters of my body, like there would be something lurking out in the grass, crouched low, waiting for me.
After a half-hour or so, I came upon a clear lake, only big enough to be considered an old swimming hole, I thought as I dipped my hand into the cool water.
I took off my outer clothes and decided to go for a swim. I lowered myself in slowly and reveled at the cool water. The pond wasn't deep, but the water was clean. A small rope swing had been hung from a large oak tree that bordered the pond. It also provided a nice layer of shade that made it the ideal spot to spend the day. I floated on my back in the water for what seemed like hours. The day seemed to slip away from me. A small beach of sand sat at one side of the pond, so I lay out in the sun and closed my eyes. The warm day warmed my soul, and soon I felt myself drifting off into sleep.
I awoke to the sound of crickets and darkness. I couldn't believe it. I had slept through the day; the long nights had finally caught up to me, and now I was stuck far away from the farmhouse. I didn't know if my plan with the scarecrow had worked, and this wasn't the place to test my theory.
A full moon lay overhead, casting a silvery glow on the world before me. A sea of grass swayed gently in the wind, sending shivers down it in shuddering waves. I looked around, but I was thankfully alone, just the crickets chirping along melodically as my only companions.
I had to make it back to the house, so I started on my way, my hands trailing along the tall grass. The pale light played easily on the deep green grass. Step by step, I made my way back towards the farmhouse and the barn, throwing caution to the wind, and I started to jog along, anything to get back faster. I would have to find Eli; maybe if we were together, he could stop it like before.
If I thought the field was creepy during the day, by night, it was a whole new world. Every sound made my heart stop for a beat before restarting in protest. When all of a sudden, the crickets stopped chirping. I dropped to my knees, letting the long grass cover me from sight. Through the strands, I could make out a shape moving slowly through the tall grass, the swish of the plants as it made its passage through them. My heart dropped. Was this Eli looking for me, or was it the scarecrow come for me?
That's when I heard a voice, a voice cutting through the silence. It started off quiet and raspy as it sang an eerie children's song.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek
The world it claims that I be not clean
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
I was frozen to the spot. It hadn't found me, but it knew I was in the grass somewhere. Now, with each word, chewed up and spat out like it was unhappy with it, now it was accompanied by the whistle of something in the air and a slicing sound as it cut through the grass around me.
It finished another round of its song, but now it stood within feet of me, its blade whistling as it cut. I took a moment to ready myself, and as it raised its blade to cut through the grass I hid in, I dashed out of my hiding spot and slammed into it. But nothing resisted me; I fell through it like it was a ghost.
In a tangle of limbs, I landed hard on the ground and tried quickly rolling to my feet. The blade of its weapon pierced the earth beside me. Now I could see it was a two-handed scythe the scarecrow carried, but something was off, its hands were human. Pale milky skin like a newborn baby. I had little time to examine the creature except for the canvas bag over its head. Two large black eyes came out of the slits that leaked a dark red blood like tears.
It screeched loudly and swung its scythe, but it was slow, and I took off through the grass in the direction of what I hoped was the farmhouse.
I completely gave up all pretense of hiding and sprinted as fast as I could without looking back. The grass seemed to part for me as I ran in terror. I was just glad that in high school, I had taken track as it was paying off now.
I could hear the noise of footsteps behind me, but I never turned. I ran and ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst Something silver flashed to my left, and I tripped over something hard and unexpected. The wind was driven from my lungs as my chin slammed hard into the earth. I scrambled back, trying to escape, but the scarecrow was on me, its blade flashing angrily in the pale moonlight.
I wanted to move, I wanted to fight, but my body was weak and unable to catch its breath, and I lay there helpless as it swung its scythe towards me. I closed my eyes in fear, but I only heard the thud of dirt before I opened my eyes. The scythe was discarded, and the scarecrow stood staring at me.
It seemed to be struggling with something, one hand reached out towards me only to be snapped back to its side. A roar of rage pierced the canvas sack over its head as it struggled against its invisible bonds. For a moment, I thought I saw something behind it, three sets of hands holding it back. One feminine in nature, and the other two must have belonged to children. In a flash, I saw a beautiful woman who looked vaguely familiar with her long brown hair and plain dress.
"Run," she moaned as the scarecrow swung around wildly.
I didn't hesitate and fled, my breath had returned, and while my body still ached from my fall, I powered on, knowing this was the only respite I would receive tonight.
In the distance, I could see a small sheet metal shape; Eli's trailer was slowly coming closer as I ran, and I beelined it for the trailer. I could hear the footsteps behind me again as the scarecrow resumed its chase after me.
I reached the old trailer and banged on the door as loud as I could; I rattled the handle, but it was locked.
"Eli, it's me. It's Polly, please let me in. Please," I begged as I banged over and over again on the door of his trailer.
Nothing responded to me, and the trailer was dark. The single window in the back held no life inside the trailer. From the trailer, I couldn't tell which direction the farmhouse was in the dark, so I fled into the tall grass and crouched low, watching the clearing around the trailer.
While I caught my breath, I watched the scarecrow enter the clearing, its scythe back in its hand as it circled the trailer. When its raspy voice began singing again low and quiet, only loud enough for me to hear.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek
The world it claims that I be not clean
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night, I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The song made me shiver uncontrollably at the lyrics and the voice; it sounded demented like a crazy person letting their demons out into a nursery rhyme.
I lay perfectly still; for some reason, it couldn't find me. This creature I assumed was all-knowing seemed to have some very human weaknesses. It moved and talked like a human, even had certain body parts that were from a human; it even felt human the way it chased and reacted.
The scarecrow moved on through the tall grass, and I let out a sigh of relief as it lost my trail. How terrifying that beast was. In my pocket was the keys to my car. Eli had told me that the farmhouse was fairly close to his trailer. I had to navigate to the car, then drive as fast as I can away from this place. The fact that I hadn't left already because I was worried about money was insane. Who cares, I could drive to Barb's and demand my money back. Go home and just tell my parents the truth. The whole reason for actually leaving home this summer, why I was actually here in this field shivering uncontrollably in fear. But I couldn't think about that now, not now, there will be time to deal with that later. Now I needed to focus on staying alive, getting to the car, and getting out of here.
I went in the direction the scarecrow had; he knew the land better than I did, and every noise I made in the silence of the night made my heart drop. It took all my courage there and then to take one step forward, then another. I felt like I was going to be sick; my stomach was in knots to where it felt like even if I was sick, the only thing to come out would be only bile and stomach acid.
With each careful step, I made my way closer to the farmhouse and the scarecrow. Through the darkness, I could see my goal, the farmhouse, and the barn. Within minutes, I had made it securely to the farmhouse yard.
My car still sat in the same spot overtop of the hole where I buried the scarecrow. In the moonlight, I could see that the dirt had not been disturbed.
The scarecrow was nowhere to be seen, and I cautiously made my way to my car, my keys in my hand as I approached the driver's door. I hadn't locked the car, and it opened on the first try. I turned on my car as quietly as I could, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Something landed heavily on top of the roof of my car, making it dent inwards slightly. With horror, I saw the scarecrow swing its scythe into the back window of my car. With a crash, the glass shattered inwards; I put my car into gear and roared away down the lane. In my rearview mirror, I couldn't see anything, so I swerved back and forth, trying to shake the creature from the roof of my car when the scythe crashed in through the front window, making a hole just large enough for it.
The glass spidered, and I couldn't see out the window very well. I swerved down the road, but the scythe remained in the car, allowing the creature purchase. In a panic, I spun my wheel wildly, trying to dislodge it, but I lost control, and soon felt something crash into the front of my car. The airbag went off in my face, and I hadn't been wearing my seatbelt. I slammed hard into something else, and my vision went dark. I was in a daze; I must have passed out because I don't remember a lot of what happened next. I felt the car door open with a crunching tear, and it landed loudly as it was torn off. My body being grabbed and tossed on the ground. I felt no pain, just a gentle numbness. I felt blood on my head as I raised my arm to touch my face.
Then just blackness, complete, and empty just feelings, fear, unease, sadness. My eyes opened, and the scarecrow was overtop of me. Pain on my chest and my vision went dark again. Coughing as something poured down my throat. I couldn't breathe, why couldn't I breathe?
My eyes opened one last time, and I saw the scarecrow pouring a dark liquid from its mouth directly into my mouth and eyes. My vision was red and bloody before I closed them one last time.
The words of its song echoed into the emptiness of my thoughts.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek?
The world it claims that I be not clean.
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see,
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night, I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The darkness enveloped me, and I felt myself slipping away, the sounds of the night fading into oblivion.
Day 4
When I awoke, it was morning, and I found myself lying in a hospital bed. My head throbbed with pain, and my body ached all over. The memories of the terrifying night flooded back to me, and I shuddered involuntarily.
A nurse entered the room, her kind eyes filled with concern. "You're awake," she said softly, her voice gentle like a soothing balm. "You're lucky to be alive. You were found unconscious by the side of the road next to your car. Do you remember what happened?"
I tried to speak, but my throat felt raw and dry. I croaked out a few words, barely audible. "The scarecrow... it attacked me..."
The nurse frowned, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Scarecrow? What scarecrow?"
My heart raced with panic as I realized the truth. Had it all been a nightmare? But the pain in my body felt too real, the memories too vivid to be mere hallucinations.
I tried to explain, to tell her about the terrifying creature that had pursued me through the night, but she only looked at me with concern, as if I were delusional.
"I'll get the doctor, and there is a young man who brought you in. He has been here all morning," the nurse said with a sly wink.
After a few minutes, she came back with Eli and a doctor, both of whom smiled gently at me through the window. The doctor came in first and went over my health with me. I had a concussion and bruises all over my body. A generous-sized cut from some glass on my scalp had been stitched and bandaged. My mind flashed back to the night before. How the scarecrow had filled me with its gooey red blood.
"Did you find anything else?" I asked cautiously, trying to avoid another scandal like with the nurse.
"No, as long as you have someone to pick you up and take you home, you are free to go. That nice young man out there said he would take you back home," the doctor said, pointing to Eli as he rose with a slight grunt.
I glanced at Eli, and he waved uncertainly at me. The doctor went out and began talking to Eli for a few minutes.
While I waited, my mind began to have strange thoughts. Something was wrong; I felt weird. My vision turned red, and I began to see images before my eyes.
The Harmons. They flashed before my eyes in real-time—the husband hugging his wife, then swinging his kids around, chopping wood outback next to the barn while his wife cooked in the kitchen.
As Eli entered the room, the visions stopped suddenly. Like my saving angel for the third time now, I was extremely grateful to Eli.
"Heyyyyy," Eli said, elongating the word in a sort of familiar yet awkward way.
"Hi," I said, closing my eyes and letting my embarrassment pass in only a few seconds.
"Why is it that fifty percent of the times we meet, you're in serious trouble?" Eli asked, coming to sit on the edge of my bed.
"Oh, you know me, bad luck, I guess," I said simply, becoming aware that under my blankets, I was in a backless hospital gown, and he was inches away from me.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin as a sort of cover for my appearance, but Eli didn't seem to notice. He continued talking to me. It was actually really sweet the way he seemed to care for me.
"Anyways, the doctor said I could take you back to the farmhouse to rest," Eli said.
"No," I said suddenly, becoming serious.
"What? Why not?" Eli asked.
"I just, I just can't right now. I'll tell you later. Just, we can't spend the night anywhere near the farm," I said, grabbing him by the arm, hoping to sway him.
"Well, I mean, if you want, we can grab your stuff, and my house can literally go anywhere," Eli said in an offhand manner, as if he had expected this.
"Promise?" I asked, trying not to seem too afraid.
Within the hour, we had returned to the farmhouse. The hole I dug was still covered over, and I stared at it as we parked in Eli's black pickup truck.
I ran inside and quickly got changed into my only clean clothes, grabbing everything I had from the farmhouse. I paused at the dinner table, looking down at the photographs of the Harmons and thinking back to that weird moment in the hospital with that odd vision.
The day was getting longer, and I hurried back to Eli, waiting in the pickup truck. I threw my bag in the back and climbed in beside him. He smiled and backtracked down the lane. We turned to the left and went down a side road where we came upon my poor old car. It had crashed directly into a tree, and the whole front part of the car had been destroyed. Fluid leaked all over the road, and I almost shed a tear for my departed friend. We had traveled far together. I grabbed a few things from the car, but something was off about the car. The front door had been knocked off and was discarded on the far side of the road. It looked impossible; the door hadn't even hit the tree.
Eli hooked his truck up to his trailer, and we sped off, leaving the property behind us. We headed into town and found a pullout on the side of the road with a set of bathrooms to camp at for the night. Eli's trailer was messy but cozy. He had laundry strewn over most surfaces, but it didn't smell bad.
The room consisted of a small kitchen with a bed in one corner. There were also a lot of posters and artwork on the walls. I examined one of a pretty girl with long raven-black hair. It was a realist painting, obviously taken from real life.
"Who is this?" I asked as Eli made us some food.
"That is just a friend," Eli said, glancing at the painting he had done.
"Well, she is a pretty friend," I said, enjoying watching the back of his ears turn bright red.
"Dinner's ready," he said, pouring the mixture of food he had made onto a pair of plates.
Eli served me and handed me a can of Coke to drink. I thanked him and sat on his bed. It was the only serviceable piece of furniture in the whole trailer. We both sat in silence for a moment while we ate. I could tell something was bothering Eli as he kept making glances toward me.
"What? What is it, Eli? Just say it," I said between bites.
"Tell me what happened, Polly. Tell me why you were burying the scarecrow, why you were passed out in the road with straw in your hair. Tell me why you were muttering about the Harmons and a scarecrow when I found you," Eli said suddenly, as if he were unloading a machine gun.
I looked Eli square in the face and relented. I told him about the last couple of nights at the farmhouse, about how the scarecrow had been tormenting me every night. About how he had saved me and how last night I had fled through the fields to his trailer and then to my car. I told him about the vision I had about the Harmons in the hospital. By the end of it, I was in tears. I felt so foolish and childish.
Eli took it in stride. He asked a few questions during my retelling, but by the end of it, he was silent. Tears fell down my face and landed in my lap. We had both put our plates on the counter, and Eli hugged me. He put his arms around me, and I nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling comforted again in him at the lowest points of my life.
With a gentle hand, he wiped away my tears, and I smiled, letting a nervous laugh escape my lips. I looked up into his face and felt his stare before I saw it. His pale blue eyes shone with comfort, and then his lips were on mine as he kissed me quickly before pulling away slightly.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. That was insensitive of me. You're sad, and I took advantage of that," Eli said, moving back slightly.
"Shut up," I said, and grabbed his shirt, bringing him back in.

Whats up my dudes, we are back at it with another chapter for you all. We are getting the swing of things and have another chapter or two to start the main plot fully, we are just getting to know our leads for now. I hope you enjoy
Lets get this bread
-----
The movement from the nightclub to Stitch’s clinic was grueling. Typically lugging a passed-out HVI or some other sod halfway across the city's district would not be a challenge. With his cybernetics, Conor was in decent enough shape and could sprint ten kilometers in full battle rattle without breaking a sweat, but Conor had pushed himself and didn’t need to wax a few Voodal in his way.
Conor had heard that Kurlatra were dense, but his assumptions about how heavy they were came nowhere close to the reality of picking one up.
Whatever this woman's name was, she likely weighed north of eighty kilograms. It was a shock because she was a meter and a half tall at most. For Urka’s sake, Conor only weighed one hundred and fifty kilograms despite being two meters tall and filled to the brim with wires.
He thought a bit about the woman's build and realized why she must weigh so much. She had hips and legs that could crush a man's skull. Along with a pair of tits just big enough that they would overflow from your hands.
Conner was made all the more well aware of those traits as he adjusted her to ensure he would not drop the little lass. Her fatty chest and plump thighs would try to swallow his hip each time he did. No sentient this small had any right being heavier than his entire breacher kit, explosives, anti-rifle armor, and all.
If not for Brakul expecting this rosey scag to be delivered to Stitch’s place, Conor would have lugged her to his safe house, which was far closer. But no, he had another job and order to follow.
The only shining light on this impromptu extraction was that the Voodal did not follow him. He had been worried about that last ganger he had shot; they had only eaten one round through the midchest. At the time, it looked like it might not have been a heart shot, and since he was picking this bimbo up at the time, he did not have a chance to ensure they were put down permanently.
Conor took a deep breath as he rounded the corner into a dirty alleyway, leaving the bustling thoroughfare behind. Thankfully, the residents of Heavalun knew better than to mess with him or anyone else who regularly did mercenary work, especially when they were carrying a body—alive or not.
Those who stopped his type tended not to live long, so he was ignored other than a few passing glances.
After traveling a few meters into the alleyway, Conor stopped and tucked behind a dumpster. His feet squelched in a puddle of rank trash water leaking from the impromptu cover. While Conor was reasonably sure no one had followed him, a quick double-check was always good for his skin.
Conor did not want to bring trouble to Stitch’s place. He did not have the slightest idea where he would find another techy who could synthesize the cocktail of stimulants Stitch made to keep his broken body held together. Pissing the tech head off was not high on his priority list.
Over the next ten minutes, the only thing his thermal vision picked up between him and the main road was a few Zlit rats scurrying atop discarded food. Their fleshy tendrils groped the garbage and pulled it into maws of razor-sharp teeth.
The sight of them sent a shiver down his spine. Those foul little mammals were high on his list of hated creatures, having been bitten by them more than once since he was a kid slinking around the gutters of Heavalun.
Pushing those memories away, Conor traveled deeper and rounded a blind corner. The sounds of the crowd's chatter entirely vanished as he entered the backstreet where Stitch’s clinic was nestled.
The rest of the journey was only a few hundred meters and only required Conor to sidestep some used needles and shit; He also had to kick one homeless bum who tried to grab the girl out of the cover of his jacket. Usually, he would have just shot the piece of hreck shit, but with his hands full, a swift boot to the jaw got the message across.
With the bum limping away, broken jaw clutched in pain, Conor hammered on the metal door; its frame and the neon sign to its side quivered under his brute strength. Then began the worst part of dealing with Stitch, waiting for the asshole to open the door.
Conor waited until ten minutes had passed and received no answer. Then he punched the door harder, his metal hand denting the surface. Several seconds later, a heavily synthesized voice echoed out of the speakers hidden around the area—speakers that Conor had never been able to locate, no matter how fervently he tried.
“What do you want, Conor?” Stitch questioned. “Did you break more of your wiring?”
Conor sighed heavily, knowing Stitch had this entire block wired with multispectrum cameras and could see him a kilometer out. If this were a visit for his wiring, Stitch would know. The man was just being paranoid and wanted Conor to state his business.
“I got a girl I need you to check up on,” Conor said, pushing his jacket slightly open and letting the girl's ref scales shine.
“What another hooker pass out on a bad trip?” Stitch chuckled cruelly. “This is the fourth this month; you are getting soft merc.”
Rolling his eyes, Conor could admit he was softer than most of the other mercenaries and gangsters in the city's neutral sections. Having seen his fair share of how bad this city can be, Conor did his best not to fuck over those who were just down on bad times and were not trying to cause him issues.
Life was arduous enough for them. So he gave back by lugging hookers and junkies to the nearest tech head and paying for their treatment or the closest Zential clinic. The Zentials were more than willing to treat the downtrodden for free, unlike the other medical services in Heavalun—stitch included.
He considered it his way of giving back and maybe finding Urka's good grace. Perhaps the god might forgive him for being a general piece of hreck shit if he continued to until he did. But he would not know until he finally kicked the bucket.
His intervention was a drop of clean water in the ocean of venom in this city. The other locals were more than willing to pick those he aided clean in minutes. They might as well be a swarm of bealit beatles eating carrion with how ravenous they were.
“It ain’t that. Just open the damn door,” Conor growled, punching the door again.
“Hold on, you greased-up cyborg,” Stitch frantically complained, worried that Conor would break his door again.
Conor smirked, glad the strange form of tolerance he and Stitch had built over the years was still strong. At this point, it was their modus operandi. Neither hated the other; no, they respected one another's role in this shithole.
Both toles put them in harm's way and brought them respect and infamy.
However, Conor found the way the denizens of Heavalun treated them funny. If you asked the average COS or GU citizen, who was more brutal: a mercenary with a pension for hyper-violence and little regard for collateral damage—-or a skeletal Itelv doctor who regularly performs life-saving surgery? They would choose Conor ten out of ten times. They did not know Stitch like Conor, Brakul, or most of the people in this city section.
They would tell you the truth of the good doctor.
They would weave you a tale of a greedy, crit-pinching asshole and that Stitch was the type of man who would stitch up for pay but would just as quickly harvest your organs for sale, or Urka forbid he would stick some experimental tech inside you and wait for your inevitable death to retrieve his property.
The door at long last opened with a vile hiss, and a gangly grey-skinned hand forced it open.
Stitch was just about as tall as Conor. But his thin grey limbs made him look one stiff breeze away from taking flight, with only his heavy artificial spider-like legs keeping him firmly on the planet.
Draped over his pencil-thin neck was a once-white apron. After years of use, it was stained with blood, oil, and hydraulic fluid.
“If she ain't one of your precious hookers, put her on the table. I will get my tool ready,” Stitch hissed, jamming his thumb over a shoulder.
“I ain’t selling this one to you either. Girlie got tagged by visage, and I need yah to treat her,” Conor replied, pushing past and laying the blonde on the recovery bed.
“You said she ain’t some hooker,” Stitch complained following, having gotten tired of Conor no longer bringing him fresh meat to sell.
Once Conor turned around and was about to explain the situation, Stitch pressed a bony finger into Conor's chest. “I told you, I'm selling the next one. She is it,”
“Can it doc. She is a client,” Conor replied. “Or are you going to explain to Brakul why you cut her up?”
Stitch clicked his tongue but did not try to move closer. His glassy, verdant eyes pulled Conor and the girl apart as he weighed the pros and cons of allying with Conor and Brakul another time.
“What is in it for me?” Stitch questioned, tapping a finger on a scalpel attached to his tool belt.
Conor sighed, realizing he should have expected this question, but he was not the broker of deals. That was Brakul’s schtick, and he was running late.
“You can take her jewelry and any credsticks you find on her. Alright?” Conor replied, knowing Brakul likely would have made a similar deal.
Stitch nodded and slinked closer to the woman. He lifted the necklace from her chest and carefully examined the jewels with a prudish eye any good businessman should have. After Stitch activated his magnified eyes, his cornea glowed gold, letting him see the atoms of the shiny trinket.
The doctor grinned cruelly, letting his crystalline teeth show proudly. The sight was unsettling and made Conor grip his pistol, fearing the doctor would flip his shit and decide it was not enough payment and try to cut the girl up.
But he did not start to slice her skin open. Instead, he sniggered nearly uncontrollably for a few moments, then spoke. “Yes, yes, yes. This will do just fine,” He sneered.
Conor was unsure what the jewels were, but they must be worth far more than he initially thought. For Urka's sake, Stitch was drooling on the necklace and the passed-out girl's chest.
“Good. So you will take care of her?” Conor questioned, needing to hear an assured answer.
Quickly slipping the jewelry into his pocket, Stitch looked back at Conor, his demeanor having done a complete one-eighty. “Of course, I always have room for paying customers.”
“Oh sweet, Conor, you handled the deal,” Brakul said, having just stepped in through the doors.
Why Brakul was allowed unfettered access to Stitch’s clinic and Conor was not something Conor had wondered for years but had accepted it as something to do with their role in the duo.
“Yeah, and he will watch the client. But we had yet to lay out the finer details,” Conor explained.
“Ah, no issue, I can take it from here,” Brakul replied.
-----
so what did you think? a decent chapter or total trash? either way I wanna know. I will see you all in the comments. please don't forget to comment and updoot.
your baker
-Pirate
-----
Prev
Next
Buy My Novels

Previous Part
My eyes darted around the room, still shocked from the brutality I just witnessed from Shaoni. Katrina had strutted out of view and when my eyes turned to where Brooke’s crumpled form should’ve been he was gone to. At some point both Robert and John had run off towards the growing sounds of gunfire. Shaoni and I still stood in the coliseum, shaken to our cores but both for very different reasons.
*CLANG*
The sudden noise startled me, the sound of metal on metal. The sound came again, this time I heard it clearly and turned around to face the noise only to be met by a few familiar faces.
“Don’t mean to bother you but their shootin up the place, could ya let us the hell in!”
Rocco shouted as he beat Brookes stolen lighter against the metals bars that closed off the back entrance to the coliseum. Bianca gave me a sheepish wave as I looked over their faces again. Frank, Stein, and Tuck were with her. They must have come through the same way Bianca and I had a few days before.
“NOW!”
Rocco shouted in irritation as my brain finally kicked into gear and I ran over to let them through the barred metal gate.
“What’s going on up there?”
I wondered out loud, concerned by how shell shocked they all looked.
“I’d guess something involving the government, with equipment like that I doubt it would be anyone else. Just as we got to the hole Bianca mentioned several men in black tactical gear came out of the forest at our sides. When we didn’t clear out like they demanded they started firing so we dove in.”
Stein explained.
“I take it that’s Shaoni?”
He added, pointing towards where she lay, hunched over and taking shaky breaths on the ground.
“Is she alright?”
Bianca chimed in, craning her neck to get a better view of her past everyone else.
“The hell should we care!? Isn’t it her fault we’re doin’ any of this in the first place?”
Rocco grumbled up at us as he laid back on the ground. Glad to see he wasn’t taking things to seriously. Tuck just stared at Shaoni with this intense anger in his eyes, he didn’t say a word.
I know I shouldn’t care what happened to her at this point but a part of me just couldn’t leave Shaoni like this. Sure, she probably didn’t deserve the sympathy but I couldn’t help feeling a little bad for her now that the anger had passed. When I made my way over to her I got the sense I was seeing the real Shaoni for once. I was seeing someone who witnessed her people rise and fall, saw the country we live in change and grow as it became what we know today. Someone who’d lived countless lifetimes as a piece that just didn’t quite fit the puzzle anymore. I thought about everything Bianca had learned about Shaoni, how she was given her powers, no, her burden in the first place. Suddenly I had a pretty good idea of what exactly she brought everyone here for.
“Shaoni?... Are you… uh, you ok?”
I said like I was trying to comfort a dying animal. The closer I got the more I could hear, she was crying. It was that held back sort of crying right before the dam breaks into full on sobs. She was cracking but still trying to put on a tough face, still trying to be every bit as imposing as she had been the first night I saw her. But she wasn’t, now she just looked pitiful.
“You… you’re right you know Keith. I’m not Justice anymore… I…I don’t think I have been for a very long time.”
She choked out through tears that flowed freely down her face as she rose to her feet.
“I don’t know why I brought you here… I was just so desperate to…”
She trailed off but that was alright, I already knew what she was going to say.
“To escape? Pass on your burden? This whole thing was to chose someone to pass the Thunderbird spirit onto wasn’t it?”
I asked, sure that I was right.
“Yes, this is what I wanted from the start, to give my burden to one of you. At first I wanted the trials to help me make my decision but by the time all of you arrived I just wanted a way out. I wanted to finally live a real life. I’ve lived too long… I just want to live simply before the end that should’ve come so long ago.”
Shaoni cried, more controlled now as she finally started to get a hold of herself.
“So what? You’d just give it to someone else! What about what that would do to them?”
“I just wanted out Keith! I know it was selfish, I don’t care! I just want the nightmare to be over!”
Shaoni screamed out at me. She was hysterical enough that I saw Stein’s hand shoot towards his belt. I’m sure he had that gun I saw yesterday waiting there so I held out my hand to signal him to wait.
“We did good once, in the beginning. But that changed, the wars the injustice I just couldn’t stand by and let that happen so I fought back. I spread the idea that fighting to the death was better than compromising for peace, compromising to save lives. That’s when we… I went wrong. I lead them astray! I was responsible for their deaths! Every! Single! One! I was bitter and resentful for years and I took it out on anyone I thought was guilty. I’ve lived with that for centuries! Do you think I don’t know I’ve become a monster Keith?!”
Shaoni finished with a look of profound shame on her face.
I never thought I’d see the day when I actually felt bad for Shaoni. Not some spur of the moment there’s a full on shootout going on above us and I probably shouldn’t let her die, feeling bad. No, I genuinely felt sorry for her after hearing her talk about the past with total honesty for once.
“You could come with us.”
I offered, looking back to everyone who’d gathered around her at that point. The looks on their faces all told me they weren’t fans of that Idea but only Tuck protested.
“I won’t help her crawl outta the bed she made! Keith, do you honestly think she doesn’t deserve everything thats comin’ to her?!”
“No, but I think she’s suffered enough. Besides, I really don’t want to leave someone down here to die knowing I could’ve done something about it.”
“You know what, fine! You care to much about this Keith, she deserves it! But if you want to take her with us don’t be surprised when she goes on and stabs ya in the back! Now come on, we should get moving.”
Tuck finished, throwing his hands up in the air in an act of frustrated surrender.
“So you realize we’ve got to go out there right? We’re not climbing back out the way we came in so heading out the main entrance is our only option at this point.”
Frank said bluntly as we watched Rocco scurry out of the hole they had dropped in from. We’d all collectively decided we were better off sending Rocco back home. Frank was right though, and even though the sounds of gunfire had started to sound a little farther away I still wasn’t a fan of getting anywhere closer to them.
“I might be able to help with that.”
Shaoni replied, getting to her feet with an air of determination.
“Stay behind me and move when I tell you to.”
We all fell into line behind Shaoni without another word. I guess all of us realized the the sobbing mess we’d seen before also just so happened to be the same Thunderbird that reduced most of Imalone to ashes. So despite how we felt about letting her lead us around it was probably our best chance at the moment.
I was a little surprised that none of… whatever was happening out there hadn’t spilled into the mine and made its way to us. We found out why just as soon as the single file line behind Shaoni made it out of the mine. The camp was devastated, what wasn’t on fire or covered in bullet holes was smashed or ripped to pieces. The ground was littered in bodies and shell casings. A few hundred feet in front of us a small group of Shaoni’s followers where taking shots at the men in black tactical gear Stein had mentioned. There was maybe ten of them but it looked like those ten had slaughtered nearly all of the followers that had made up this camp.
I threw up on the spot, I was so shocked by the scene in front of me I didn’t even manage to bend over, it just kinda waterfalled out of my mouth. I heard Bianca groan in disgust from behind me. I didn’t understand why everyone else wasn’t reacting the same way I was. As I came back to my senses after a minute or so I took off my now vomit covered jacket and felt the cool air through my shirt. Shaoni had instructed us to move and I must’ve moved on my own. All of us were gathered behind a small rocky outcrop near the entrance to the mine.
“You doing alright?”
Bianca asked quietly from behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at her and noticed the jewel encrusted dagger from before was clutched in her hand, twinkling with reflections from her now glowing blue eyes.
I could barely hear Bianca over the sounds of gunfire. Which almost certainly meant the last of the survivors were being wiped out. I couldn’t watch anymore death today so I just ducked lower behind our cover.
“You hear me Keith? Are you ok?”
Bianca persisted with a little more concern in her voice. I was still trying to pretend I hadn’t just seen dozens of dead bodies but I couldn’t really ignore her forever.
“No not…not really.”
I said, my voice coming out silent as a church mouse.
“Was it the-”
I cut her off
“I’ve never seen a dead body before, I mean I have but not like… not like that. The one guy his jaw was just…. Just gone. How do you guys do it? How do you just look at that and not react?”
Bianca sighed and looked me in the eyes. There was a kind of recognition in them, like she was seeing a little bit of herself in my situation.
“We’ve all seen a lot of horrible stuff in our lives, we’re used to it. Still it doesn’t make it feel normal to see… this. Do you think you can hold it together a bit longer or do you want me to…”
Bianca trailed off but it was obvious to me what she meant. Bianca was offering to soothe that terrified part of me with her powers again.
“Thanks but no, I’ll be alright I’ll probably be seeing this in my dreams for weeks though.”
I answered, trying to make a stupid joke to lighten the mood. Bianca cracked a hint of a smile and that was enough for me.
While we’d been talking everyone had failed to notice Shaoni was gone. She had stood up and was walking straight towards where those men in black gear where picking through what was left of her followers. She was glowing though, every single tattoo glowed with an intense white light and then in a flash she was gone, and the Thunderbird was in her place. Frank and Stein stared in awe of the huge beast in front of them. The Thunderbird looked exactly as I remembered. The blue feathers and steel gray beak reflecting in the light from its crackling white eyes.
“That’s it, That’s the god damn bird!”
Tuck yelled like we couldn’t see what was right in front of us. I think he was just surprised to see the Thunderbird again. Even after years of swearing to get back at “the bird” for the friends he lost I don’t think he ever thought he’d come face to face with it again. Seeing it must be bringing up more than a few memories he’d rather forget.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret! She’s been helping us Tuck, at least put your differences aside until we’ve gotten all this figured out.”
Stein yelled over an ear splitting screech from the massive bird as Tuck began to tense up. Every muscle in his body looked like it was about to pop, they were bulging to an inhuman degree. With a long exhale he loosened up and the swelling went down.
“Damn it… fine! But only till we got things settled here, after that I need to have a “conversation” with that… thing!”
Tuck shouted in begrudging agreement.
The men in front of us all turned toward Shaoni, her new form towering over them. Then I heard a familiar voice shout out,
“You wanted it gone, You’re looking at it! What’re you all waiting for!”
A commanding voice rang out from one of the people in front of us. I didn’t take long to spot the platinum blonde hair poking out from under the armored black helmet the woman wore, not just any woman, Katrina. I didn’t have much time to let that sink in before Katrina made a fist, stuck two fingers up in the air and shook them forward at us. After that, all hell broke loose.
The men behind Katrina rushed forward, guns drawn. Stein drew his own pistol and cocked it, taking aim at the approaching men. Tuck tensed up again and this time he didn’t hold himself back. Bones cracked and skin shifted to accommodate the inhuman muscles he now possessed. Hair sprang up all over his body and under it his face became more angular, his nose almost snout-like. Tuck looked something like a werewolf but definitely not the wolf man I expected. He looked more like an extremely hairy, unnaturally muscular feral person than any wolf man. Frank, Bianca, and I all hunkered down behind the outcrop, waiting for the worst to happen. Shaoni took to the sky with a flap of her massive wings as the gunfire started.
Nothing ever really prepares you for how loud a gunshot actually is, especially a whole bunch of them from fully automatic weapons. There’s nothing quite like being shot at either, at some point you just have to accept the fact that at any moment one of those things flying around you is going to hit you and just get ready for it. That doesn’t actually do anything to calm you down though, at least it didn’t for me. I was huddled behind that little outcropping like a puppy hiding from fireworks on the fourth of July. Wind gusted all around us as Shaoni flapped her wings furiously. The wind coming from her winds was so intense it blew the bullets being fired at her off course. Lead rained all around us as I listened to the cracks of even more bullets being fired. I heard growling as something roughly Tuck sized tore forwards toward the gunfire.
The sky was turning an enraged black and rain had already started to fall in sheets. Lightning struck the ground every so often as well, to close and regular to be natural. I peaked up over the outcrop at one point. I was just in time to see one of the men get struck by a bolt of lightning and tense up as he fell to the ground. As the men kept firing at Shaoni some of their shots started to hit home. The bullets that didn’t get turned away with the wind glanced off her massive form. Whatever those feathers were made off seemed to stop most of the bullets dead in their tracks but it was becoming obvious Shaoni couldn’t keep this up. From our position behind the outcrop Bianca and I both felt the beats of her wings and the gusts of wind that came with it coming slower and slower. We shared a glance for just a second, from the look in Bianca’s eyes, I felt certain we were doomed. More and more of the bullets seemed to be hitting Shaoni and her movements became slower still until eventually it happened.
With a shrill cry she fell from the sky, her blue features stained red in places. Shaoni hit the ground with an earthshaking crash and lay still. Katrina screamed something I couldn’t hear in the violent storm that still raged all around us. When I inched my way up to take a look I saw Katrina and her men charging toward Shaoni guns drawn. Behind them I caught sight of Tuck’s muscular figure getting back up from the ground. I hadn’t been keeping an eye on him before but it looked like he’d seen better days. He hesitated a bit before me moved, looking back to the outcrop where we were and over towards where Shaoni lay. He looked once, twice, then shook his head, mind apparently made up and ran at the men on all fours.
They didn’t hear him coming from behind over the storm and as they raised there weapons Tuck pounced. With one swipe of his humongous hand he sent one of the men flying off towards the forest. Even Katrina was surprised by Tuck’s sudden attack. The time provided by everyone taking a moment to decided who to point their gun at gave Shaoni just enough time to act. She shot one wing out, glancing off everyone near her and knocking them to the ground. One of them men’s helmets flew off with the hit and Stein quickly lined up a shot and fired, hitting the man in the top of the head. The look in his eyes was devoid of any emotion as he ducked back down behind the outcrop. I got the sense this wasn’t the first time Stein had killed, not surprising considering his time in Germany. Still, there was something unsettling about that look in the old scientists eyes.
As Katrina and her men got their bearings again and started firing at Tuck bullets plinked off the outcrop. Apparently they hadn’t forgotten we were there. I stole a quick glance over to where Shaoni had fallen but the Thunderbird was gone revealing a hole in the ground created from the impact of her fall.
“TUCK!”
I screamed out to get his attention for a moment. Tuck’s head swirled towards me just long enough for him to see my outstretched hand pointing to the hole in the ground. I grabbed Bianca’s hand and pulled her to her feet, making a mad dash to the hole. Frank and Stein saw what we were doing and followed after us. Stein fired wild shots off towards Katrina and her men while Tuck kept harassing them.
By some miracle Tuck was still going even as I saw bullets tear into him, he was an animal. He tossed the men around like rag dolls and at one point I turned to see him bring his now claw-like fingernails arching upwards. The head of the man he’d hit was bent back at a sickening angle, he was dead there was no question but Tuck didn’t even stop to spare a thought for the man. Seeing one of their comrades killed in front of them seemed to get the attention of the entire group of them. I hated to admit it but it was exactly the distraction we needed.
As we ran past the chaos of the fight I heard a mix of screams of agony and determination. At one point one of the men’s broken bodies flew over the four of us and hit the ground with a wet crunch that sent a shiver down my spine. We just kept running though, everyone following behind me because I looked like I had a plan. To be fair I did, it was just a bad plan, more of a feeling honestly. I thought if we could get into that hole Shaoni made we might find a way out, a real long shot but it was the best I could do right now.
By the time we reached the hole and I jumped in Tuck had thrown just about every one of Katrina’s men all over the little clearing we were in. Some where very clearly dead but some where rolling around and groaning. Katrina was still standing though, just before I fell deep enough into the hole I got a quick glance at her as she took aim at Tuck who seemed to finally be feeling all the punishment he’d been taking.
I didn’t even have time to scream a warning before my feet hit the hard rock below me and everyone else fell in on top of me.
“Sorry… sorry”
Bianca squeaked out as she pulled herself out of the pile of bodies we’d become. Frank, Stein, and Bianca seemed alright but my ankle was definitely sprained, badly.
“Can you walk on that?”
Bianca asked, examining my ankle in the strange blue light that emanated from further down the chamber we’d fallen into.
“Maybe? Here can I just lean on you?…. yeah, yeah that’ll work.”
I told her, using her to pull myself to my feet and leaning on her for support.
“What are we looking for Keith?”
Frank wondered out loud, a little fear creeping in to his voice as he looked around the chamber.
“I’m not actually sure, I was hoping we’d find Shaoni down here, maybe a tunnel out.”
I grunted out honestly, still reeling form the pain shooting up from my ankle.
“Wait where’s Tuck?”
“If he didn’t make it down we have to assume the worst. We can’t afford to wait now.”
Stein answered, quickly and professionally like someones life wasn’t at stake.
“He never had to come out here for me! We can at least wait for him, give him a chance-”
Stein cut me off
“None of us had to come here for you! We knew the risks so did Tuck. If we wait here now his sacrifice means nothing!”
Stein yelled at me. He was right, none of them needed to be out here but I still didn’t like leaving someone behind. As Frank and stein trudged forward Bianca and I hesitated a bit.
“I don’t want to leave him either but Stein’s right. Just lean on me and lets keep moving, we can come back later and look for his…”
Bianca trailed off before she could say body but I got the message, and if Bianca was moving forward I really didn’t have much of a choice.
We didn’t have to go far to find Shaoni, her usual deerskin clothing was ripped and stained with blood in places. All in all she didn’t look as bad as I thought she would. The light we saw at the entrance was coming from her tattoos as every one glowed brightly with blue light. The same light glowed faintly from four Thunderbird totems placed in the corners of the huge room.
“Welcome to my nest.”
Shaoni said with a dry chuckle, extending her arms out to her sides before immediately clasping them back over a wound in her side.
“Shaoni, are you… are you going to be alright.”
I asked, but before I could get any sort of answer I was interrupted by snarky laughter and a cocking gun.
“Well thanks for leading me right to where I wanted to be Keith.”
Katrina remarked as she walked into the room.
Bianca’s eyes glowed that all to familiar blue but Katrina was a step ahead of her.
“Yeah I wouldn’t try that if I were you. Sure you could force me to walk right out of here but it’s going to take a second to break me, longer than it would take me to pull this trigger.”
Katrina responded with a sneer, turning the gun on Bianca. Bianca jumped back like a scared cat. Ducking under my arm and putting all my weight back on my sprained ankle.
“Wait Don’t!… Argh!”
I cried out at her just before I fell to the ground.
“Ok, ok just… don’t.”
Bianca conceded, putting her hands up and backing away as the blue glow faded from her eyes. When he saw what Katrina was doing Frank wrestled Stein’s gun out of his hands and pointed it straight at Katrina, finger trembling on the trigger.
“Don’t you dare hurt her!”
Frank shouted, face turning red with fury.
“Well thats cute…”
And with an earsplitting bang Katrina turned and shot Frank in the leg. He fell to his knees, dropping the gun he’d been holding as Stein scrambled to hold him up.
“Don’t get in my way, don’t threaten me, and I won’t have to hurt anyone. Now Shaoni, where were we?”
Katrina cooed with murder in her voice as she took a step forward. I tried to pull myself up to my feet, only succeeding in making a pitiful cry as I fell back down again. Bianca flinched towards me but backed up fast when Katrina’s gaze shot her way.
“Keith, you’re still alive? I don’t know how you keep getting mixed into things but you’ve gotta learn when to just give up. I was supposed to kill all of you down there after the third trial. I gave you an out and you just stuck around. Tell you what though, you can still walk away cause I feel bad you got dragged into this in the first place. I have no idea what she was thinking, roping you into this with no idea about the supernatural at all.”
Katrina addressed me, pointing over at Shaoni after helping me to my feet. It hurt to stand but I was getting used to the pain.
“Above everything else I was supposed to kill the Thunderbird and thats what I’m going to do, after that you all can walk out of here.”
Katrina took slow steps toward Shaoni who simply glared at her. She didn’t try to run though, something told me she was ready, no matter how the next few minutes played out. But I had one more trick up my sleeve as I limped over, putting myself in between Shaoni and Katrina.
“She just wants out of all this Katrina! You have to know about where she came from, everything she’s been through!”
I yelled through gritted teeth, biting back the white hot pain shooting up from my ankle.
“I know enough It’s sad sure, but everyone’s got a sad story these days. She’s been flying around taking out whole towns to use as havens for people who want to follow this ass backwards sense of justice she’s got. I don’t want to become that person who’s hunting down supernaturals like her no questions asked just because I was ordered to. But in this case she’s responsible for hundreds of deaths. The “accidents” that happen in those towns are all her fault, and not all of them are as nice as Eagles Peak. The kind of people a town outside of any real form of government or law attracts aren’t the people you want to be neighbors with. She’s got to die Keith, so do you if your going to try and stop me.”
Katrina explained as she stalked closer to me. I really didn’t want to do what I knew I had to do next but I couldn’t watch anyone else die today.
“Alright, I guess there’s no other way then, Shaoni I’ll take on your burden.”
The whole room exploded into a chorus of “what” in varying degrees of shock but my mind was made up. I turned to Shaoni as she asked,
“Are you sure Keith?”
“Yes.”
Before anyone could recover from the shock of what I was about to do she reached out and grabbed my hands. I took hold of her’s and she said something in a language I couldn’t hope to understand as my vision went white.
When I could see again I was… somewhere else. Lightning flashed intermittently overhead and a grassy field extended out forever around me. In front of me stood a misty grey form of a bird it was huge, easily twice the size of the form I’d seen Shaoni take. Through its shifting misty form I could see Shaoni. The bird seemed to be talking to her but I couldn’t make anything out, I could only guess it was a Thunderbird spirit. It seemed to nod to Shaoni before it turned to me and stared me dead in the eyes. Its beak didn’t move, actually no part of it moved but I still heard its voice in my head as its eyes continued to boar into me.
“My chosen, Justice, claims she has lost her way, is this true?”
I couldn’t begin to describe how this voice sounded, powerful is the only word that came to mind. I didn’t feel like I was in any danger though, in fact I felt calmer than I ever had.
“She has.”
I got the sense that quick simple answers were probably best here.
“Justice spoke very highly of you. You offered to succeed her if she is to be believed.”
“I did, but how exactly do we-”
But I was cut off with a bow from the spirit who evaporated all around me. My vision blurred and everything went white again as I collapsed into the soft grass.
I came to on the floor next to Shaoni, it couldn’t have been that much later because neither of us had any new bullet holes in us.
“What did you just do?”
Katrina asked standing above me and looking absolutely stupefied.
“The Thunderbird is dead.”
Was my simple, potentially completely bullshit answer. Katrina looked from me to Shaoni and back again, eyes growing wide as the realization dawned on her.
“You know what? That works for me, just don’t cause us any trouble and we can just forget this whole thing ever happened. Oh, I like the new eyes by the way.”
With that Katrina walked off and climbed a rope ladder she had attached to the ground outside the hole we fell through.
Everything else that happened was a blur, we went back out and found pretty much all of Katrina’s men dead. Tuck was shot several times and barley breathing when Shaoni of all people found him. She called us over and Stein assured us he’d be alright if we got him back to the lab soon. We carried Tuck’s hairy form over to one of the SUV’s and raced back into town. On the way we drove past Katrina who’d also taken one of the SUV’s and was heading out of town. Bianca made a comment at some point that I looked different. When we got back to the house I looked in a mirror and saw my eyes where the same shade of grey Shaoni’s had been.
Speaking of Shaoni we took her with us, she followed us over to the car after she found Tuck. She looked a bit like a lost puppy at that point if I’m honest. I guess finally being able to live your life free of some strange sense of duty after hundreds of years will do that to you. Shaoni hasn’t actually said much since we settled back in at Bianca’s house. She eats and goes through the motions of normal life, she’ll even shoot you a warm smile if she catches you staring at her. I’m still not used to seeing her with green eyes though. I think she just feels lost but I’m ready to help show her the ins and outs of normal-ish life when she’s ready to ask for help.
Frank and Stein went back to doing their normal experimenting pretty fast. The whole thing past them by like a particularly eventful weekend. Even Frank’s bullet wound was quickly forgotten about. Pretty much as soon as he treated it it was like it never even happened to him. Tuck got back on his feet with a lot of help from Frank and Stein. He walks with a permanent limp now but other than that he’s fine. Richelle just about had a conniption when we told her what happened and she hasn’t left Tuck’s side since. She seemed surprised when we described his transformation and we came to find out he never told her about his, “Condition”. That may be why they’ve been so inseparable lately, she just wants to help him however she can and he sure isn’t complaining about that.
Tuck and Shaoni have been getting along as well. I never thought I’d see the day those two sat down and just talked but after a tense first few weeks they came to an understanding. They aren’t old friends now by any means but I’ve walked in on them both talking about their pasts. Maybe sharing stories helps them deal with living such long lives.
As for me and Bianca we started dating and thats been… well that’s been just great. I think its good for both of us cause after everything that happened at the old mine I was just a bundle of nerves. Having someone like her to talk to, someone who gets it, who’s seen so much worse helps put things in perspective. She finally has someone to really talk to in town too. Theres not a whole lot of trouble for us to get up to but we’ve started making a habit of pouring over Frank and Stein’s notes on the supernatural. Not the most riveting idea for a night in but I like learning more about whats really out there.
I still don’t feel any different after taking on Shaoni’s “burden”. Maybe that sense of duty she felt really was just all in her head, a promise to her people that she never let go. Honestly I haven’t tried to use whatever powers might come with my own condition. I just don’t feel like I need to. Like I told Katrina, the Thunderbird is dead. I’m sure not going to be the next Shaoni or anything like that but maybe It’ll help us find Brooke.
Thats the one thing that keeps Bianca and I up at night, we never found Brooke’s body. The two of us went up to the old mine a week or so after everything happened to look around for any sign of him but we didn’t find a trace. In fact the whole thing was cleaned up and the entrance to the mine was collapsed. I’m willing to bet whoever Katrina works for came back to try and wipe away any traces they may have left here. Maybe they found Brooke out there and dealt with him themselves, maybe he’s still out there somewhere. But for now everything’s been pretty calm, even normal around here.
Rocco is still a menace, Tuck still leaves the Eagle’s Roost door unlocked at all hours of the day, and theres still next to no people living here. Without Shaoni and her trials looming over me life is actually pretty good here. So that’s my story, how a storm and a huge bird dragged me halfway across the country and I started dating a succubus…right after I became the Thunderbird. It still seems crazy when I say it like that. Maybe I’ll dig up something on Brooke but for now I think I’ve finally found my new normal out here in the curiously named town with no Eagles and no Peaks.

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Part 1
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Now for a little background my partners mother is incredibly toxic. Ignored her sons mental health, blamed others for his problems and multiple times tried to ruin her sons father's image to me when we started dating.
I'm a very open and out there person, and was taught by my family to express my feelings and not hide. So when I saw my partner hiding his feelings and hiding his issues I told him to stop. To start seeking help and confide in me. Which in turn then turned into him snapping and shouting his true fears and anger at his family when they bugged him.
They then blamed me for his mental health being in the ground and tried to make him leave me, but he chose to stay. Further down the line I had to save him from life attempts and more. This made them hate me more as I asked them many times to help him and said things like he was faking it to it wasn't my business.
Eventually things died down a little. They still told him to leave me but it never worked.
Then last year my mother passed away very abruptly, my partner is a first aider but also someone I need, so I called him to come support me. His mother then told him and his step dad I was FAKING until she was outside and saw ambulances.
This made it hard to see each other.
Things were still tense but died down, later in the year around September time, he moved in with me to escape his family and so we could see each other more and see his family whenever plans where made. Now my fiance is a very introverted person, and rarely makes plans and if he does he usually forgets or cancels. Which often ment he didn't see his family. (They also made no effort to see him) So since Nov ’23 up until yesterday they fought with him.
Telling people I was controlling him and never let him out. When I was actively trying to do the opposite even taking him to my own family outings to include him.
How the issue that's made me make this post.
On our 18th birthday in April we had a small fight as I'm very off with alcohol and don't really like it. He however likes to drink on occasion. We had plans but he went behind my back and planned a small get together when we got home from our plans with his family. Without me. I was upset but understood. I asked him not to drink much as I have a fear of vomiting and couldn't help him if he was drunk. He made a promise to me to be home by 10 and not be drunk. After ignoring me on both and coming home at midnight we fought but sorted the issue. However his mother hated I was messaging him for info. Called me a liar and controlling, saying he wasn't drinking and why does it matter where he is. I struggle with anxiety to an extent my partner made me get life360 so if I was worried I could check. And I had proof he was at a bar and he even showed me he was. Which I showed her and told her as his partner I'm not wrong to want to know he is ok. As I said we as a couple had already sorted the issue, she hadn't.
Over the past few days she's been telling him your coming home ECT ECT.
After the birthday issue I chose to go no contact with her, and if she's was adamant about speaking to me it would have to be in the presence of my father as she's made threats to hit and choke me. Well yesterday she called to say he's coming home now if buts or maybes and that she wanted to speak to me. As I said I didn't want to speak with her. So she threatened to come to our house. We told her no but she still came.
She shouted at my partner for nearly an hour to come down, to drag me to her to chat, even going as far to say I do bad things to him, speak for him and control him, threading to call the police and say I was no treating him right.
As 18 year olds home alone I was scared, I called my father for advice and was told "either you call the police or I will and I won't hold my tongue" (references the threats she's made to me) so I did, the police came and took a statement and left.
Now this morning his mother basically said you have chosen to cut me off. (My family have said it was just a blackmail message) Saying she won't be there and how there relationship is over.
He was upset but told me it wasn't my fault but he did wish I just spoke to her.
His best friend who also doesn't like me for the "controlling" reasons. Has now told his gf who was also my friend that I've ruined him ECT ECT and she's now dropped me.
I've tried for almost 5months to avoid fights and I still ruined his mother, best friend and my friend. By not speaking. It's highly likely any of the people from the story may find this.
Apologies for formatting and errors , on mobile and dyslexic. + Stressed fast typing.
TLDR: PARTNERS MOTHER HATED I HELPED HER SON AND HE DIDNT SEE HER SO SHE SCREAMED AT US AND THE POLICE WERE CALLED AND SHE DISOWNED MY PARTNER.

So. I 18F got my with my 18M partner nearly 2 years ago.
Now for a little background my partners mother is incredibly toxic. Ignored her sons mental health, blamed others for his problems and multiple times tried to ruin her sons father's image to me when we started dating.
I'm a very open and out there person, and was taught by my family to express my feelings and not hide. So when I saw my partner hiding his feelings and hiding his issues I told him to stop. To start seeking help and confide in me. Which in turn then turned into him snapping and shouting his true fears and anger at his family when they bugged him.
They then blamed me for his mental health being in the ground and tried to make him leave me, but he chose to stay. Further down the line I had to save him from suicide a couple times or harm. This made them hate me more as I asked them many times to help him and said things like he was faking it to it wasn't my business.
Eventually things died down a little. They still told him to leave me but it never worked.
Then last year my mother passed away very abruptly, my partner is a first aider but also someone I need, so I called him to come support me. His mother then told him and his step dad I was FAKING until she was outside and saw ambulances.
This made a huge wall between our families.
Things were still tense but died down, later in the year around September time, he moved in with me to escape his family and so we could see each other more and see his family whenever plans where made. Now my fiance is a very introverted person, and rarely makes plans and if he does he usually forgets or cancels. Which often ment he didn't see his family. (They also made no effort to see him) So since Nov ’23 up until yesterday they fought with him.
Telling people I was controlling him and never let him out. When I was actively trying to do the opposite even taking him to my own family outings to include him.
How the issue that's made me make this post.
On our 18th birthday in April we had a small fight as I'm very off with alcohol and don't really like it. He however likes to drink on occasion. We had plans but he went behind my back and planned a small get together when we got home from our plans with his family. Without me. I was upset but understood. I asked him not to drink much as I have a fear of vomiting and couldn't help him if he was drunk. He made a promise to me to be home by 10 and not be drunk. After ignoring me on both and coming home at midnight we fought but sorted the issue. However his mother hated I was messaging him for info. Called me a liar and controlling, saying he wasn't drinking and why does it matter where he is. I struggle with anxiety to an extent my partner made me get life360 so if I was worried I could check. And I had proof he was at a bar and he even showed me he was. Which I showed her and told her as his partner I'm not wrong to want to know he is ok. As I said we as a couple had already sorted the issue, she hadn't.
Over the past few days she's been telling him your coming home ECT ECT.
After the birthday issue I chose to go no contact with her, and if she's was adamant about speaking to me it would have to be in the presence of my father as she's made threats to hit and choke me. Well yesterday she called to say he's coming home now if buts or maybes and that she wanted to speak to me. As I said I didn't want to speak with her. So she threatened to come to our house. We told her no but she still came.
She shouted at my partner for nearly an hour to come down, to drag me to her to chat, even going as far to say I abuse him, speak for him and control him, threading to call the police and say I was abusing him.
As 18 year olds home alone I was scared, I called my father for advice and was told "either you call the police or I will and I won't hold my tongue" (references the threats she's made to me) so I did, the police came and took a statement and left.
Now this morning his mother basically said you have chosen to cut me off. (My family have said it was just a blackmail message) Saying she won't be there and how there relationship is over.
He was upset but told me it wasn't my fault but he did wish I just spoke to her.
His best friend who also doesn't like me for the "controlling" reasons. Has now told his gf who was also my friend that I've ruined him ECT ECT and she's now dropped me.
I've tried for almost 5months to avoid fights and I still ruined his mother, best friend and my friend. By not speaking.
I don't really know what to do I just wanted this off my chest.
It's highly likely any of the people from the story may find this.
Apologies for formatting and errors , on mobile and dyslexic. + Stressed fast typing.

I am in my late twenties and have had three years of chronic back and nerve pain, at the beginning so severe I could not work my desk job.
Tests have found: MRI of cervical spine: - bulging C5/C6 disc with mild stenosis - straightened cervical spine
X-ray of back and pelvis: - L5-S1 degenerative disc disease and bone spurs - mild arthiritis in lumbar spine and sacroiliac joints - Kyphosis - mild right curvature of thoracic and lumbar spine - “Subtle cortical irregularity about the inferior aspect of the right sacroiliac joint, without definite cortical erosion or periarticular sclerosis to suggest sacroiliitis”
I also saw a Rheumatologist and bloodwork was all normal.
I have seen a series of neurologists, orthopedic surgeons, and recently a PMT.
Orthopedic surgeon said issue was all due to my neck issues, but he never saw / ordered the X-rays. After 6 months of PT and a round of trigger point injections failed on my neck (although did have significant improvement), he said I should get an epidural for my C5/C6, but to see a rheumatologist first. He said he could not help me further.
Rheumotologist ordered bloodwork (normal), and X-ray (as a predecessor to a MRI), and I started Gabapentin (100 MG 3X/ day), and said to follow up with the PMR. Finally saw the PMR who said getting a MRI wouldn’t make a difference in treatment. He said an epidural would not be effective as my C5/C6 bulge is too mild. He did not know what was causing my issues and said if you did a MRI of ten pain-free people, people without pain could have results like mine. He prescribed four weeks of PT and to follow up after that (although I have already done 8 months). He sent me home with some neck exercises, some of which were new, which I did at home and made me twitchy and numb and stiff.
I am really frustrated after three years of different doctors. The pain is very severe and fairly debilitating. Any advice on type of doctor to see, tests, or thoughts on treatment? Do I really not need a MRI? I’ve only had one done on my cervical spine.
Honestly the neck and lower back muscle and radiating nerve pain I feel like I can live with / get a handle on. It’s improved a lot. It is this feeling that standing or sitting is so uncomfortable and stressful on my spine and rib cage that stops me from doing my hobbies and living my life. My spine and ribs constantly crackle and pop and it feels exhausting to sit upright.

Ayt, i'm bored out of my mind, i'm suffering from ADHD so I just had to make a post.
TLTR: Gordon has no helmet canonically... maybe, potentially, figuratively even... we don't know.
So some people STILL believe this myth, and this should be extremely easy to demystify since there are people like Chuck Jones telling us otherwise. BUT, even in the face of evidence sceptics still think that Gordon has some kind of retractable helmet or that he's detaching it manually for variety of reasons. Some even say that the HUD is hypothetical for the sake of gameplay... but i'm getting ahead of myself...
Since there aren't any verified official or unofficial hints as to why the heads-up display appears at all even though the in-game model doesn't seem to be wearing the helmet, or how in basically every single splash art or box art starting from the OG vanilla version of HL till Episode 2 practically, Gordon's hazard suit is exposed up there. I mean hell, in EP2 you can see both Gordon & Alyx getting away from a pissed off hunter in the background. Let's explore the things we're already familiar with:
a): Headcrabs CAN'T successfully latch onto the player. Helmet seems to be the only barrier deflecting headcrabs and keeping your body safe from ballistics, if you're submerged in toxic or otherwise radioactive waste found in BWPP, it keeps you high ^{(with morphine}) and dry ^{(with operational vent systems}). This is the reason why Gordon isn't getting 5th degree burns from swimming in glowing acid or withstanding a nade shrapnel to the face...
b) The PS2 port, Half-Life: Decay is dragging us down with it's incoherency. At the very start of the co-op segment you can clearly see either Colette or Gina (depending on which one you play as) with absolutely no head protection whatsoever even though their body is covered neck-to-toe in HEVS. This AGAIN prompts me to believe that either Valve doesn't care about it and let's the decision "be" for the sake of style or some weird thematic direction but... making the same mistake twice? You're telling me... Chuck just decided "fuck it" and let Pitchford take control of the license? This wouldn't be so strange if the same situation could be said for Shepard BUT the guy is wearing a chargeable P.C.V. he isn't feeling anything up there. Fully equipped vest with ammo count and vital sign tab functioning like in the case of hazard suit, not to mention his face is completely covered on the big box release that's soaked in so much green I got a permanent silhouette imprint on ma' optic nerve.
c) Gordon's markIV suit doesn't have a visible helmet to begin with... You get out of the tram, meet your first barney, enter anomalous materials chapter, follow wall guidelines, fuck up Arne's lunch with a button press and then finally arrive to the dorm just to see the suit incased inside a glass cylinder. You come closer to observe it intentionally ignoring the console on your second playthrough AAANNNDDD ... yup no helmet. Plain and simple. Even the holographic assistant from Sector A who's teaching you about security and the long jumping module had no helmet. Nada. (i know she's suppose to be Gina Cross but i just can't...)
d) G-man is suppose to be a human correct? i mean we know he has super powers and can teleport but i'm pretty sure that if he is just a human organism with supernatural powers, won't he suffocate in Xen? Or emplode? Or maybe both? In HL:A & HL1 we can clearly see him talking to Gordon and/or Alyx respectively for long period of time completely unbothered by the cosmos, inflating his little lungs with dark matter like it was nothing. Again, canonical we don't even know if Xen has breathable surroundings or not, it's a wild guess just like the fact that you see dead scientists complete with their helmets both in hl1 and blueshift.
There are lots of other minor not so interesting arguments, but these are the key once... wdyt?