Two years ago, I took a part-time job that still haunts me to this day. I decided to finally write about my experience, hoping it might help me process everything. I was a college student, and like a lot of you, I needed a part-time job to help cover tuition and other expenses. After a long search, I found what seemed like the perfect job. It was a caregiver position, working from 5 PM to 9 PM, taking care of elderly people. The job was pretty straightforward, make sure they took their meds, had their meals, and just hang out with them for a few hours.
I got assigned to take care of this 85-year-old lady. Let's call her Mrs. Eleanor to keep things anonymous. She lived alone in this quaint little house on the edge of town. The place was old but well-kept, with a charming, slightly overgrown garden that probably hadn't seen a gardener in a few years. She had a small poodle named Max who was always by her side, following her around everywhere she went.
From the start, the house felt... off. There were no family pictures anywhere. I mean, you'd think at her age, she'd have photos of kids, grandkids, maybe an old lover or something. But no, nothing. It was weird. The walls were bare except for a few generic paintings. I asked her about it once, just casually during a conversation, but she brushed it off and changed the subject real quick. She had this look in her eyes, a mix of sadness and something I couldn’t quite place. I didn't push it because I didn't want to lose the job, but it definitely made me curious.
My daily routine was simple enough. I'd get there around 5 PM, cook dinner, make sure she took her meds, and just keep her company for a few hours. Max, the poodle, was a friendly little guy, always happy to see me, wagging his tail and jumping around despite his age. Mrs. Eleanor, though, was polite but pretty reserved. She didn’t talk much about her past or family, which just added to the mystery. Our conversations were always pretty basic, like talking about the weather or what was on the news.
Every evening, as I cleaned up after dinner, I'd hear Mrs. Eleanor singing a lullaby. It was the same soft, melodic tune every night, echoing through the quiet house. While the song was gentle, it really creeped me out. It felt so out of place in the otherwise silent house. She sang it every night, like clockwork, and it always made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Sometimes, I would find myself pausing my cleaning just to listen. The whole situation was unsettling. The house, the lack of family photos, the nightly lullaby, it all felt like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit together. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a deeper, darker story behind those melodies. It was like the house held secrets that it wasn’t ready to share, and I was just an outsider peeking in.
As the weeks went by, my curiosity grew stronger. Why was she singing this lullaby every night? Who was it for? The routine stayed the same, but the sense of unease kept building. I had been given strict instructions by my employer not to go into Mrs. Eleanor's room. It was one of the non-negotiable rules of the job, probably to respect her privacy and maintain professional boundaries. One evening, while I was cleaning the dishes, I noticed that the door to Mrs. Eleanor's small office was slightly opened. She had always kept it closed and had told me it was just a mess she didn't want me to fuss around with. But that evening, the door was invitingly open. Hearing her close the bathroom door upstairs, I decided to take the chance and peek inside the office.
The room looked straight out of the 1960s. Blue walls, a small single bed, and a wooden desk cluttered with old papers. There was a small closet to the left that caught my eye. The whole setup struck me as odd. This room, which looked like it belonged to a young boy, was in the home of an elderly woman living alone. There were no pictures, no personal belongings, nothing to explain why this room was here. I couldn't explore more because I heard footsteps right above me, making my heart race. Panicking, I quickly closed the door and hurried back to the kitchen. The rest of the evening went by uneventfully. I gave her the necessary pills, made sure she was comfortable, and left for the night. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that room. Why would she have a boy's room in her house if she had no children? The thought gnawed at me, creating a whirlwind of questions.
The next day, my curiosity got the better of me. I decided to do some research on Mrs. Eleanor. I spent hours online, searching for any information about her. But nothing came up. No social media profiles, no news articles, nothing. Not a single piece of information about her life.
It was baffling and left me with more questions than answers. I returned to work after the weekend, determined to find out more. That evening, as usual, I prepared dinner and ensured Mrs. Eleanor took her medication. Then I waited for her to go to the bathroom. The moment I heard the bathroom door close, I quickly made my way to the office. The room was just as I had left it, with that same lingering, musty smell hanging in the air. This time, I opened the closet. Inside, I found small boxes, stacked neatly but covered in a thin layer of dust. My heart pounded as I opened one to find baby clothes, tiny socks, pants, and sweaters, all meant for a baby boy. They were neatly folded and seemed well-preserved, despite their apparent age. But why would Mrs. Eleanor have these?
The discovery left me with more questions than answers. I went back to making dinner, trying to process what I had found. My mind was racing with possibilities, but none of them made any sense. Was it possible she had a child once? If so, where was he now? That night, as usual, Mrs. Eleanor began singing her lullaby. Normally, this song would send shivers down my spine, creeping me out every time. But this night was different. Instead of fear, I felt a surge of curiosity that I couldn’t ignore. I went upstairs quietly and with each step up, the lullaby grew louder. The door to her bedroom was almost closed but had a small gap, just enough for me to peek through. She always left a gap, saying it was to let Max come and go as he pleased. I peered through the gap and was shocked by what I saw.
There, Mrs. Eleanor was sitting in a rocking chair, gently swaying back and forth. She was holding Max in her arms, cradling him like a baby, and singing softly to him. Next to her was a small wooden cradle, old and worn, as if it hadn't been used in years. She continued her lullaby, her voice soft and melodic, but now it felt more sad than creepy. Her gentle rocking, the way she cradled Max, and the soft melody of the lullaby created an image that was hard to shake. I slowly backed away from the door, not wanting to intrude any further. I went back downstairs, my mind spinning from what I had just seen.
This made me think and start connecting all the dots. Was she pretending her dog was a baby? A baby she never had? I could be wrong, but that would make sense, right? The boy’s room, the baby clothes, no pictures, no husband, no children, just her and her dog, whom she pretended was her own son.
There are many possibilities. Maybe she lost her child during a miscarriage, or the son died somehow. It’s heartbreaking to think about, but I had no way of knowing for sure since there was nothing about her online. I even asked my boss about Mrs. Eleanor, trying to get some information about her past. My boss didn’t know much either, just that Mrs. Eleanor had always been a bit reserved and private. She mentioned that Mrs. Eleanor had experienced some tragic losses and that she was now quite lonely, with some health issues typical for her age, but nothing specific.
I worked out the rest of the week, but everything felt so creepy and intense. The quiet dinners together, the silence in the house, the haunting lullaby, it all felt like I was living in some kind of ghost story. Each night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen. The pieces seemed to fit together, but they painted a picture that was too tragic and eerie for me to handle. Even during the day, I found myself distracted, replaying conversations with Mrs. Eleanor in my mind, looking for clues I might have missed. I thought about asking her directly but quickly dismissed the idea. It felt too intrusive, and honestly, I was scared of what I might uncover. There was a part of me that didn't want to know the full story because the fragments I had were already too much.
I noticed more details that added to the unsettling atmosphere. The way Mrs. Eleanor would sometimes pause mid-sentence as if lost in a distant memory, or how she would stroke Max's fur with a faraway look in her eyes. The house itself seemed to hold its breath.
I made my decision, I sent a text message to my boss saying I couldn’t continue with the job and that I was quitting immediately. I didn’t even say goodbye to Mrs. Eleanor. It felt wrong and I knew it was rude, but I just couldn’t bring myself to face her again. The thought of another day in that house, surrounded by haunting memories and unanswered questions, was too much for me to handle.
I felt a mix of guilt and relief. Guilt for leaving without a proper goodbye, for abandoning Mrs. Eleanor when she clearly needed someone. But also relief, knowing that I wouldn’t have to endure another evening of lullabies and unsettling silences. I knew I was being cowardly, but I just couldn’t do it. The experience had taken a toll on me, and I needed to get out. The whole experience was something I couldn’t shake off easily. It made me think a lot about the hidden struggles people face and the ways they cope with their pain. Mrs. Eleanor's story, whatever the full truth was, taught me that sometimes, the past can cast a long shadow over the present.
So, that's my story. It was a job I thought would be simple, but it ended up being one of the most emotionally intense experiences of my life.

Apple TV+ is one of the strangest streamers out there, with almost no licensed TV or film content and a small number of originals. That makes the best movies on Apple TV+ easy to find. There simply aren’t that many! Apple is clearly taking a “quality over quantity” approach, with its money spread across genres and targeted at making its subscribers (many roped in with a deal that came with one of the company’s tech products) treat it like a real contender. It also helps that it’s only $4.99 a month, or free for a year if you’ve just purchased a new (and eligible) device.
With films from up-and-comers like Minhal Baig, arthouse favorites like Sofia Coppola and Werner Herzog, some A-list music docs, one of the best animated movies of the 2020s and Martin Scorsese’s latest, Apple TV+ is actually making the case that it belongs in the conversation alongside the more established services. As long as it keeps adding good movies to its roster, that is. It recently snagged a few critical darlings like Killers of the Flower Moon and Wolfwalkers.

10. The Pigeon Tunnel

For a documentary about one of the most celebrated writers of spy fiction, The Pigeon Tunnel can seem—at first glance—deceptively placid. Clocking in at just over 90 minutes, the film features an extended conversation between David Cornwell, AKA John le Carre, and Oscar-winning docmaker Errol Morris. It’s just that. Two people talking, with Morris off-screen, their parrying question-and-answers broken up with archival images and re-enactments of Cornwell’s past, as well as snippets from the classic movies or TV adaptations based on his spy universe: The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and A Perfect Spy.

9. Hala

Writedirector Minhal Baig’s Hala is an intimate coming-of-age drama held up by its personal writerly touches and a star-making turn from Geraldine Viswanathan as the title character. Hala’s struggling with the same kinds of things we normally see high school characters struggle with: What to do after graduation, how to manage a relationship with her parents that’s not quite adult and not quite childish, and (of course) boys. Viswanathan’s understated quiet and the warmth in which the situations are shot (almost always centered on her face)—be they at a family dinner or a walk in a Chicago park or a reading of a high school English assignment—make the dramatic ricochet of Hala’s minor rebellion rattle us all the harder.

8. Boys State

The tendency to read too much into Boys State as a representative of American politics—contemporary, functional, broken and otherwise—doesn’t quite line up with the event itself, in which every year the American Legion sponsors a sort of mock government sleepaway camp in Texas for high school boys (girls get a similar program of their own), where attendees join parties, run for office, craft platforms, run campaigns, hold debates, then ultimately exercise their right to vote.

7. On the Rocks

Sofia Coppola’s new movie On the Rocks starts out as a story of possessive fatherhood, with Felix (Bill Murray) narrating to his teenage daughter, Laura: “And remember, don’t give your heart to any boys. You are mine until you get married. Then you’re still mine.” The girl laughs off the declaration as a jape, which turns out to be a catastrophic tactical mistake. In her womanhood, Laura (Rashida Jones), does indeed get married to a man, Dean (Marlon Wayans), and they have two beautiful daughters of their own, eldest Maya (Liyanna Muscat) and youngest Theo (Alexandra Mary Reimer).

6. Bruce Springsteen’s Letter to You

The black-and-white behind-the-scenes documentary accompaniment to Bruce Springsteen’s album of the same name, Bruce Springsteen’s Letter to You is a beautiful and companionable tour through the music and its making from an American master. Director Thom Zimny buys into the album’s concept, which focuses on just how long Springsteen’s been at this thing. Poignant juxtaposition with archival footage and pictures emphasizes just how long the E Streeters have been at this—and reminds us of who and what was lost along the way.
Also Read: The Last Duel

5. Fireball: Visitors from Darker Worlds

Werner Herzog will show you multiple clips from Mimi Leader’s Deep Impact for no other reason than because he likes them, he finds them well-done and evocative—he says as much in that even-keeled, oddly accented voice over—then soon after chastise “film school doctrine” when complimenting a field video shot by a South Korean meteor specialist in Antarctica. Like Nomad: In the Footsteps of Bruce Chatwin, his documentary from earlier in the year, Fireball (co-directed with Clive Oppenheimer, with whom he made 2016’s Into the Inferno) is less about what it’s about (meteorites, shooting stars, cosmic debris—and the people who love them) than it is about Werner Herzog’s life, which is his filmography, which is a heavily manipulated search for ultimate truth.

4. CODA

Sometimes a movie so successfully plunges you into its world that it completely engulfs you in a lived-in experience. From the gorgeous, scenic opening moments of CODA, you can almost smell the Atlantic salt air and pungent scent of the daily catch. The movie transports you to Gloucester, Massachusetts and lovingly drops you into the life of one family. Seventeen-year-old Ruby Rossi (Emilia Jones) is what the title of the movie refers to—a child of deaf adults.

3. A Charlie Brown Christmas

We could get into plenty of arguments over which Charlie Brown animated special is best, but A Charlie Brown Christmas is my favorite pull of the bunch. Charlie Brown’s confrontation with the Christmas season’s commercialism (back in 1965 no less) and a sad little fir tree make this a cartoon classic, as the ultimate funny-pages shlimazel suffers endless social indignities (no Christmas cards) and the holiday blues.

2. Wolfwalkers

Wolfwalkers is filmmaker and animator Tomm Moore’s latest project out of Cartoon Saloon, the animation studio he co-founded in 1999 with Paul Young, and the capper to his loosely bound Irish folklore trilogy (begun with 2009’s The Secret of Kells and continued with 2014’s Song of the Sea). At first blush, the film appears burdened with too much in mind—chiefly thoughts on everything from English colonialism to earnest portraiture of Irish myths, the keystones of Moore’s storytelling for the last decade.

1. Killers of the Flower Moon

Martin Scorsese has made a career telling stories that tackle issues of justice, retribution and betrayal. From his overt and poetic crime films, through to his dark comedies, religious parables and character pieces, he has long been drawn to stories where the ambiguities of life collide with the complexities of survival, and where day-to-day choices result in consequences sometimes obvious, and sometimes far more subtle and insidious.

Hey guys,
I recently graduated college with a bachelors in CM and I’m on my first big boy job as an assistant superintendent for a small commercial GC. They have me doing a mix of superintendent duties as well as some laborer duties. I’m on my second week and I’ve been called “green as grass”.
Most of my experience has been in an office environment (internships), with one residential labor job over the summer I worked 2 years ago. Basically I’m pretty inexperienced with field work. This has led to a few stupid and clumsy mistakes I’ve made. I’m extremely extremely critical of myself, and even the smallest mistake will haunt me.
I know with time I will get better and make fewer and fewer mistakes, but what can I do to make sure I lessen the mistakes as much as possible? What were some rookie mistakes that you made that I could avoid? Also what could I do that will impress and make me seem like less of a rookie? Thanks in advance.

First of all, sorry for my broken English. Not my native language. Please point out if something isn't clear!
TL;DR we’re rushing things and don’t know how to slow down
It's a nice story tbh. We met 10 years ago, we were in the same friend group. He had a big crush on me but I was a crazy ass 19 y.o. who didn't really care about boys, also I was planning to move to another city (500 km away) - and I did. So in the past 10 years we lost contact, albeit being friends on social media and stuff, and sometimes we would casually meet on nights out with our friends when I came home to visit.
While I was making the rounds of Southern Europe, he started a relationship that lasted approx. 7 years. They were living together and stuff. She's a nice girl, I remember meeting her a couple of times, but she's got a lot of "social" issues that made living together very hard for the both of them. She was in constant need of his presence, and for the last 1.5 year of their relationship he felt more like a father to her than a boyfriend (PLEASE NOTE I have nothing against her and I dont want to make her look bad because SHE'S NOT. If this info wasn't important for the story I wouldn't have shared that). He left her in December 2023, the main reason being that he wanted the relationship to "grow up", think of a family, a bigger house, dogs, kids... but she couldn't even keep a job so he ended things more or less in a friendly manner after trying and trying.
3 months later, in March, I liked a pic he posted on facebook, he sent me a message asking if I was back for good (I am) and basically asked me out on a date. And MAN WHAT A DATE. Everything was perfect, we laughed to the tears, you know when you feel something has clicked and now everything is in its right place? Yeah. We both felt that. So we jumped on this loveboat ride and everything has been great, but we were really rushing things, like I started staying there for the night during the week (aided by the fact that his apartment is 10 mins from my office so it was also covenient for me), he met my parents (by accident tho honestly that wasn't planned, but still) I met his mother, his coworkers, also his boss! He got drunk with my dad! (That was fun haha). I thought that we were rushing things too much but I brushed it off thinking "don't ruin it, if it feels right then let it be", but eventually it came out during a talk we had. We both acknowledged that we'd been getting ahead of ourselves and this was making him uncomfortable, because he didn't really want to end up in another relationship right after ending a 7 year long one, at the same time he thinks what we have is precious and we should cherish it. He wants to see and have a future with me but also wants to take things slow. I agreed, and being the pragmatic little demon I am I had prepared a list of things I thought we should do/stop doing, such as sleeping there on weeknights, parents involved etc, to which he agreed. Also I noticed that he was kind of... I don't really know how to explain, projecting? his ex's persona on me. I noticed that when he was on morning shift (starts at 6 a.m.) and I had spent the night at his apartment, he'd be very worried about me not getting up on time to go to work at 8 (like his ex did) and asked me to send him a message as soon as I woke up. Another thing, there has been a weekend when I was sick, it wasn't that bad, I just had a stomach ache and nausea and needed to go to the bathroom a lot. Well that day it looked like I couldn't even walk for him, he wanted me to stay at home while he was buying the groceries to cook for lunch even though I said I was fine and a trip to the supermarket wouldn't have killed me. I reckon that's because his ex was like that. But I'm not. I'm really an independent person, I've been living by myself for the past six years, I can look after myself! And even though it's lovely to have someone who cares about you, that just felt like having a nanny and not a boyfriend (we also talked about this).
Aprt from that our relationship is great, we discuss things as adults, every discussion/argument ends with a common point. I love this. Also he's the sweetest.
But after the talk we had, and the things we both agreed on, Sunday night we were watching a movie together on his sofa, the movie was over and I said "oh it's 10 pm, I gotta go" and he was like "why don't you just stay here for the night? Your office is basically across the street" I told him that that's exactly what we agreed to avoid, he insisted a bit but then I left.
Now, I don't know what else to do to slow things down apart from to ones I listed and furthermore I don't know how to help him with all of this. He's confused and I can see that, but I trust him and if he said he really cares about our relationship then so it is.
What do you think? What should I do?
Thank you for reading.

If I had to guess I'd say this book was made sometime between 1990 and 2010. All I rember was a boy who was in a museum looking for his brother, and the only other person he could find was this talking model skeleton who joined him, I think the skeleton wanted to find out who he was before he died. They try to look for the main office to find the boys brother but the museums layout makes no sense and they have to wander aimlessly through exhibits, meeting stange characters as they go. Eventually they reach the office where curator tells the skeleton he is just a replica. If I remember correctly this causes the skeleton to scream , and the boy wakes up outside the museum with his brother.

In recent years vampire movies and Dracula movies became big flops at BO aka box office poison. I really wonder why? The recent crop of vampire movies was quite diverse actually in themes - Morbius was comicbook vampire in modern setting, Last Voyage of Demeter was serious gothic horror period piece about vampire, Renfield and Abigail were contemporary action horror black comedies with lots of gore. Yet all flopped.
But vampire movies used to be succesful with different flavours back in the day. Vampire movies set in modern times? We had hits in Lost boys, Fright Night in 1980s, Blade movies in 1990s, Underworld franchise in 2000-2010s and yeah Twilight franchise in 2000s-2010s, and of course What We Do in The Shadows in 2010s. Vampire movies in period settings? Bram Stoker's Dracula and Interview with the Vampire movies in 1990s were hits.
So why did vampire genre fell off so big lately and why Dracula in particular stopped being interesting to modern audiences?

MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES, DEAR VIEWERS.
THIS INCIDENT ENDED ABRUPTLY A LITTLE *TOO* EARLY, THE PROBLEM HAS BEEN REPAIRED NOW.
I WILL PLAY THE LAST PART WHERE IT CUT OFF.
ENJOY!
...
THIS MOTHERFLUFFER, I SWEAR...
"That was the third violent weird guy I have killed today.. This day keeps getting better and more thrilling by the minute!"
Grabbing his phone and turning it on, The Badass Sheriff starts to scroll through random pictures that his best friend, Louie, sent him. All of them are normal and wholesome, which is nice. Clyde giggles happily while he looks at them. Then, he begins texting him, asking if there's anything exciting going on where he's at, his friend tells him no, nothing yet.. but the street vendors are giving their food away for free right now! 'Ah, neat..!', Clyde thinks, smiling cheerily. Before he gets to ask him to grab a hot dog for him, he hears a terrified player outside, screaming for help, they also sound like they're crying. The Badass Sheriff grins, it's time for more action! Not wanting to forget his shotgun again, he picks it up and then runs out of his office. He spots a violent weird guy chasing down a teenage boy in a distant, but not that far away. The poor kid trips and falls to the ground, then fearfully begs him not to kill him as he pulls his sign out. So, what does Clyde do? He takes a slightly big rock near him and then tosses it at the violent weird guy. It hits him right on the head, to which he immediately turns his head to look at The Badass Sheriff, growling angrily.
"HEY, GLITCH-FACED DITCH! Let's play..!"
Now that he's focused on Clyde instead of the horrified teen, the violent weird guy charges towards him, letting out a heavily distorted screech. The colorful badass adult waits and waits... and then instantly whacks him hard across the face with his shotgun, causing him to fall down to the ground. The violent weird guy attempts to get back up, but Clyde kicks him in the face and does the same to his right hand, making his sign fly off a few feet away. With a triumphant grin, The Badass Sheriff puts his left leg on his chest, keeping the violent weird guy down. Cocking his shotgun, he aims at his face.
"Say cheese, baby."
*BANG!*
The weird guy has been killed. The teary-eyed teenager approaches Clyde, and thanks him profusely for saving his life. Chuckling joyfully, he reassures the boy that no one would harm or kill anyone when he's around, then asks him if he wants to go to his office and chat with him. The teen's eyes light up. He says yes! Going back to the building, they start talking about things. Apparently, the boy accidentally bumped into the weird guy and thought he apologized to him, but realized he didn't, actually. The Badass Sheriff nods a little, thinking, 'Sadly, an extremely common mistake..'. A few more minutes of them simply chatting, the teen tells him that his friends are in the supermarket, waiting for him. Kind of awkwardly, he asks Clyde if he can take him there, he would love to! The boy thanks him again and they leave the office. Four minutes pass, they reach the supermarket, the teen gets out of the car, waving good-bye to The Badass Sheriff. He does the same, then drives off back to his office.
It's getting dark now, seems like a perfect time to go shopping! Clyde and Louie are heading to the largest mall in the game, StarDawn Mall. It was his friend's idea, so why not? After parking the car, the two sheriffs exit the vehicle and enter the massive building. As they walk around and talk, some players spot and greet them happily. A few approach The Badass Sheriff, asking for his autograph on their notebooks, completely ignoring Louie. The Cowardly Sheriff is sad... the poor guy. Clyde notices and comforts him, telling him that eventually, they will respect him too. But when? Who knows. Clyde then informs the players that he's not gonna do anything for them yet, as he's on a short break with his best pal at the moment. They understand and move aside for them to continue strolling. Going up to the second floor, some MORE players greet them cheerily. A little happy, Louie asks his friend if they can go and buy bracelets for the both of them, Clyde says of course, let's go there! The Cowardly Sheriff is excited!! Walking through a couple of hallways, they enter a shop. As he looks around, Louie finds a pair of matching star-shaped bracelets, he picks them up and goes to the counter, he then purchases them. He gives one of them to Clyde, who wears it on his right wrist. Louie also wears the other one, on his left wrist. The cashier joyfully thanks them for shopping as they leave the store.
They proceed to stroll through the floor, talking about stuff and sharing stories. ... Then, The Cowardly Sheriff notices something behind them, and pats Clyde on the shoulder twice, sweating nervously.
"Umm, Clyde..? There's a weird guy next to the glasses store, he's carrying a teenager. The kid looks distressed..!!"
Stopping in his tracks, The Badass Sheriff turns around to look at the weird guy, who notices him. The teen boy is struggling to set himself free. Clyde's smile turns to a frown.
"Put him down."
The weird guy doesn't do anything, he's starting to sweat.
"Put the kid down."
Still nothing. There's a broken bench leg lying next to Clyde's left leg, so he grabs it.
"I'm not asking again. Do it.. now."
The weird guy finally lets go of the teenager, his arms slightly raised, sweating profusely. The boy flees and runs to another hallway, thanking The Badass Sheriff in fear. Clyde smiles once more, and drops the bench leg. He nods once at the mute grey adult, who then walks away, trembling. Him and Louie continue to walk around the mall. Nothing much is happening right now, everything is just fine! A few hours later, they leave the building and enter Clyde's car. It's time to go back now...
They had tons of fun... and their break is over.
It's time to protect and save more players!
...
THERE IT IS, THE PROPER ENDING TO THIS INCIDENT!
EVEN THOUGH I DESPISE ONE OF THE SHERIFFS, THIS STORY WAS QUITE ENTERTAINING AND INTRIGUING, AND IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES.
ONCE AGAIN, MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES FOR WHAT HAPPENED EARLIER.
SEE YOU SOON, SWEETIES!~
HEHEHEHEHEHEH...
​

Kadillac Kirk had been a good friend of mine for several years. I had met him through friends from The Spring Stage; and he never had anything to do with The Imp, which is why he didn’t appear in the Married Mary saga. Mary would have totally thrown herself at him, and Kirk would have definitely “thrown it in her.” He loved the ladies and often remarked that there was no such thing as an unappealing woman, nor was there anything sweeter than finding the pearl of passion in an outwardly plain dame. Fortunately for Kirk, he never met Mary. This was probably fortunate for Mary as well, seeing as Kirk was a confirmed bachelor and his rakish nature might have broken her fat heart.
Kirk was an older guy. Not MOE old, though. He was in his early forties, but he easily passed for a carefree dude in his 30s... not that he lied about his age. I only mention this trait to juxtapose Kirk’s genuine youthful air with Moe’s unconvincing youthful farce. Kirk dressed normally, avoided stupid jargon, and never busted out gimmicks like tarot cards or spells. He just existed, behaved affably, and people liked him for it.
He drove a classic 1962 Cadillac El Dorado convertible with red leather interior, and he lived in a charmingly quaint (and ridiculously expensive) neighborhood. How he made his fortune remained a mystery, but he never bloviated about his wealth. He just threw spectacular parties and people showed up. And, to my knowledge, he never tried to lure women into bed with his money (although I’m sure he got his fair share of boom-boom thanks to his digs and his wheels, even if the gold-diggers denied their monetary agendas).
Kirk was legitimately handsome. He was a drummer, he had a full head of black hair, he was clean-shaven, he worked out, and he knew all the hidden gems in Wellsprings. So why hadn’t I tried... or even desired to date him? I don’t know. I just didn’t feel drawn to him like that. He felt like a cool uncle and he had, thus far, never done anything to change my perception. Plus, the age difference weirded me out a little. Kirk didn’t look forty; but knowing that he had so much more life experience than I did created a power imbalance that would have creeped me out if we’d been dating. As buddies, I just felt supremely cool riding in his Cadillac, smoking Fantasia cigarettes, and hitting the speakeasies and jazz clubs I would have never known about if it weren’t for Kirk’s connections.
And he had been a good person to talk to about my romantic woes. He never lecherously suggested that I should date him, and he gave the type of tempered advice that only comes with lived experience. But he often lightly mocked me for my crush on Dennis and he did a hilarious impression of Smegal popping too soon over his “precious.” So when Mary “got me back” by doing whatever she did with to Dennis, I called Kadillac Kirk and told him the drinks were on me if he’d be my designated driver for the night.
Why hadn’t I called Whisky??? Well, A) Kirk was way more fun to hang out with, at least from my past experiences up to that point. And B) I needed to bitch about a boy, something I couldn’t do in good conscience in front of a guy I was dating. So I put on the sexiest plunging halter dress I owned, applied heavy eye makeup and spikey accessories, braved a pair of stilettos, and sashayed out to Kirk’s convertible. I felt like a badass rock star. I probably looked like a try-hard hooker.
Kirk: Daaaaay-um! Somebody really did do a number on you, huh? I know you said you were upset, but the gents are gonna be writing thank you notes to that fat girl and that butt-fucking hobbit.
Me: I just need to feel pretty and numb. And I trust you to keep me from making a fool of myself.
Kirk squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve got you. You do whatever you need to do to get rid of these demons.”
He sparked up a J and offered me the first puff. I gladly accepted. He took one puff of his own, but said that the rest was mine since he didn’t want to drive stoned. See? He was responsible! Weed wasn’t legal in California yet, so I got a little bit baked before I stashed the sativa in the glove box and wrapped a scarf around my hair like a starlet from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Kirk sped out of the parking lot and said he was taking me to a downtown hotel that was hosting a party that night in their lush lobby.
Kadillac Kirk pulled up to the main entrance, paid the valet, and then opened my door. I was wobbly from the weed. And I had stupidly decided to wear heels. You can get high or you can wear high (heels). You can’t have both. Not if you’ve repeatedly injured both ankles (as I have). I had to take Kirk’s arm to keep from keeling over. “Can people tell I’m stoned?” I whispered. Kirk replied, “Nobody’s paying any attention to anyone else’s intoxication. I promise you that much.” I nodded, steadied myself, and strutted alongside my very cool friend, feeling a little more confident.
A live jazz orchestra was playing Cole Porter as we entered the lobby. Everything sparkled. The music was even more intoxicating than the spliff had been. “Just One of Those Things” brought tears to my eyes since the lyrics hit every raw nerve regarding the Dennis debacle. But I smiled. It might sound mental, but being distraught over a trash fire of a one-sided romance was exhilarating. Immature, for sure. But also exhilarating. You see, that kind of sadness doesn’t hurt. Not really. It stings. It leaves little bruises, but it’s very safe to wallow in because you haven’t actually lost anything. Melancholia over that which you never had is as sweet as it is bitter; and that type of twisted splendor is rivaled only by Stendhal.
“Here's hoping we meet now and then. It was great fun, but it was just one of those things.” I sang along with the band, and a fat tear rolled down past my melancholic smile and onto my chin. Kirk brushed it aside. “Too close to home?” I wiped away the remnants of the tear’s journey from eye to chin and smiled a more genuine smile. “The perfect distance from home. Shall we get drinks? Remember, I’m buying.”
Kirk: No, no. This is your time to heal. And I’m here as your pal, not your chauffeur. What would the lady like?”
I pretended to barf. Kirk knew I hated it when he got overly formal and overly attentive. So he did it just to mess with me. “Shot of vodka,” I replied.
Kirk: How many?
I thought briefly. “FIVE.”
Kirk: Five to one, baby. One in five...
Me: No one here gets out alive.
Kirk: Are you able to hold yourself upright, or should you come with?
I took a seat on an ornate, damask-upholstered chaise lounge. “I’ll be okay. And I was kidding about the five shots.”
I sat there lost in the music for a while. I thought very little about Dennis. Even less about Mary. And not at all about Whisky (whom I had shagged less than a week ago). My mind danced through the ornate lighting in the hotel lobby, and I suddenly felt the need to join the hoity-toity guests on the dancefloor!
Kirk returned with four shots of vodka. Two for him, two for me. That was quite reasonable of him. He knew damn well that I couldn’t handle five shots, but he also knew that I was in a... state. One that called for more than a single shot. I raised a both miniature glasses to “No more ninnyhammers or hairy-footed lovers.” Kirk did his hilarious Smegal impression, we double-toasted, and downed the shots. The band launched into “Let’s Misbehave,” and I kicked off my stilettos and made a beeline for the dance floor.
“There’s something wild about you child that’s so contagious. Let’s be outrageous! Let’s misbehave.” Kadillac Kirk swept me up, twirled me around, and dipped me as we both sang along with the lyrics. I wasn’t swooning for him, but I was enthralled by the moment. The music, the dancing, the combination of booze and bud... so I kissed him as he pulled me back to my feet. And he kissed back. In a way that Dennis never had. In a way that Whisky’s beard wouldn’t permit. I didn’t feel the visceral sensations that I’d felt when Dennis had kissed me, but it felt nice to feel desired. And then I noticed that other guests were watching us and applauding. Now, that was a dopamine rush if ever there was one!
I gently broke away from the embrace, high-fived Kirk and returned to the chaise lounge to put my stupid shoes back on. He followed me and smashed his face back onto mine. I pulled away and laughed. “It was a moment,” I told him. “I appreciate the dance, and that kiss was the perfect finale. But it’s not happening again.”
Kirk: Not to worry, Valerie. I know you. I knew all along that we were performing, and I was more than happy to be your scene partner.
Me: And dance partner! Those were some excellent moves! I didn’t know you had ballroom training.
Kirk: You name it, I’ve mastered it. Another drink for the lady?
I pretended to barf again. “Not yet. I’m not sad right now. Do you mind if I just sit here and enjoy the music?”
Kirk: Ah. My kisses do have healing properties...
I flipped my hand up at him. “Knock that shit off, bro. I wanted to hang out with you because I trust you not to get weird. Even if I get weird, I know you have the maturity to balance me out.”
Kirk: Are you calling me old???
Me: No. I’m calling you rational, responsible, and respectful.
Kirk: Well, now. If you can articulate an alliterative statement that fluently, then you clearly aren’t drunk enough!
I dismissed this comment as a joke. And he did indeed knock off the flirtation. We had a perfectly pleasant time chatting and dancing (no more kissing, though). And then I noticed a girl I knew from Into the Woods entering the lobby. She’d played Florinda and I’d played Little Red. I called her name and waved enthusiastically. She waved back. And then her date entered. It was D.E.N.N.I.S. I sank into the chaise. Kirk caught on immediately. “The hobbit???” he asked. I nodded silently. “You wanna make out again?” he enthused. I shook my head. I had to go say hello to Flo. And I had an idea...
I crossed the lobby, smiled, squealed, and hugged her.
Florinda: Lil’ Red! It’s been forever! So glad to see you!!! This is my friend, Denny.
From the corner of my eye. I could see Dennis shifting uncomfortably. I refused to look directly at him, neglected to acknowledge Flo's introduction and continued to converse only with her. "So glad to see you, too! What have you been up to since we left the woods?"
Dennis: C’mon, Val...
Florinda (appearing oblivious to the iciness between me and Dennis): Oh, I had some drama after the show closed. I'll have to tell you about it some other time... Have you seen Prince Big Bad (Scumbanger) lately?
I laughed. “Last time I saw him, he was hitting on some nasty fat chick at The Imp.”
Flo and I both scoffed at the pervy pest. Into the Woods was where I’d initially met Scumbanger. He played The Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince. Again... typecasting. There’s a whole essay in my brain about my first encounter with the pest, during which he quoted the song that he sang to me in the show, “Hello, Little Girl.” But it gets into some pretty uncomfortable territory because he made me feel... excited. Well, excited and scared. Nothing of note happened during Into the Woods, but our odd interactions did kind of set the stage for some extremely regrettable events during that Cats cast party.
I excused myself, saying that I needed to get back to my friend. And then I leaned in and said in a hushed voice to Flo, “Watch your ass with that one. If he’s the Denny I’m thinking of...” I gave her a look that only another female would be able to read. Her eyebrows shot up and she nodded. Dennis continued to shift as though he were trying to hold in a massive dump. “BABE! Uh...”
Flo apparently answered to that moniker as well. “What is it, Denny? Don’t worry. That was just telepathic girl talk. You apparently have a reputation...”
Dennis: Different Denny. I assure you I’m a pious gentleman.
Me: Ah. My mistake. Well, then. You guys have a good time! They’re playing Cole Porter, and the band is delovely. Great to see you, Flo!
I hugged Flo again, gave Dennis a curt nod, ignored the scent of mandarins and mountain air, and returned to Kirk.
I collapsed on the chaise lounge, exhausted from holding back the rage. I had no right to be mad at Florinda. I hadn’t seen her in three years, so how was she supposed to know that I’d had a thing with Dennis? Hell, I couldn’t even be mad at Dennis because the last time he and I had spoken in any meaningful way, I’d told him that I was no longer entertaining my crush on him. So why was I surprised to see him dating??? And why had he never taken ME out on a date like this??? And why wasn’t I smitten with Kadillac Kirk who HAD taken me out on a date like this, was an objectively excellent kisser, and a bona fide BALLER? What was wrong with me???
Kirk suggested going down the street to a quaint little bar and then sobering up at a diner closer to my apartment. I numbly nodded and followed him in silence for a few blocks. He assured me that I had “turned several heads” on the way to the new location, but I neither cared nor believed him. This wasn't the type of numbness I'd been aiming for. Now I needed to get schnockered. “Five shots of vodka, please.” Yes, I was serious.
Kadillac Kirk, my reliable designated driver, ordered only a beer and watched in something across between astonishment, concern, and delight as I slammed all five shots in rapid succession. I half expected to immediately retch all over the bar. But I felt fine. I half expected to immediately lose consciousness and wake up in the hospital. But I remained coherent. How I’d managed to take in that much hard liquor and suffer no direct consequences, I’ll never know.
I think I wanted to suffer. I wanted to either feel nothing at all or to feel a sickness bad enough to distract me from the scorching sting that pulsed through my being when I realized that I had lost the abstract notion I’d been addicted to this entire time. Hope. It wasn’t Dennis himself I couldn’t quit. It was that drug called hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe Dennis would give our romance a fair chance. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would make peace with himself, get his mind out of his crotch, and enjoy some agenda-free togetherness. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would stop bloviating about his admittedly impressive accomplishments for five fucking minutes and ask about my life. I had my own reasonably impressive accomplishments, even if they paled in comparison to his. A proper suitor would have enjoyed hearing about them.
But seeing him out with another woman, a woman who had no reason to parade her Dennis escapades before me as some means of revenge, a woman he was clearly courting of his own volition... My hope had died. It died before I’d had time to wean myself off it. Now I had to mourn the loss of hope, which is a very tricky brand of grief to navigate. Vodka wasn’t the answer, but it was what I had to work with. So it would have to do.
After enough time had passed without vomiting or collapsing, I asked Kirk to bring his car around to the bar so that I didn’t have to walk two and a half blocks drunk and in heels. He nodded and dramatically leaned in for a kiss. I recoiled. “DUDE! I told you. The moment has passed.”
Kirk: I beg your pardon. I misread your eyes. Thought I saw a green light...
Me: It’s fine. I just want to go home while I’m still feeling okay.
Kirk: Of course. Your chariot will be here soon.
He skipped off to fetch his Cadillac and I noticed that the lights in the bar were beginning to dance a bit. This should have been concerning. But then I realized that I was giggling. Wait... What? Oh shit. Sure, I was drunk from those shots. But what I was feeling in that moment wasn’t drunkery. It was stonery. Kirk probably misread my face because my pupils were dilated. Not from desire, but from drug use.
Some of you might be thinking that I was a bad friend for not introducing Lucy, an old dude connoisseur, to Kirk. Well... I did. Several years before the events of this story. He adored her. She, on the other hand, thought he was immature. And she wasn’t wrong. Lucy was astute when it came to sussing out a person’s true nature. Far more astute than I. Her initial assessment that Kirk was immature is about to be vindicated. Stretch those cringe muscles! It’s almost time for pie...
I somehow managed to get to his car. I honestly don’t recall how I got there. Did one of the bartenders carry me? Did some kind patron allow me to lean on him? Had Kadillac Kirk carried me out? I’m not sure. But my memory ceases to be fuzzy about halfway to the 24-hour diner. It might have been the very same 24-hour diner where Mary pulled her... shenanigans. I’ll never know.
Kirk: Would you say that you’re more drunk or more stoned?
Me: STONED. Definitely stoned.
Kirk made some sort of grunty noise and reached for my thigh. I slapped his hand.
Kirk: Stoned but not amorous? That’s rare.
I started laughing rather unkindly. “You’re a fucking horndog! I thought you were my safe straight male friend, dammit.”
Kirk: I solemnly swear that your safety is my primary concern, my stoned beauty.
I pretended to throw up.
Kirk: So... You’re not horny. But are you hungry? The diner I’m heading to makes this Maple Walnut Pie with the most sumptuous... sensual cream and exquisite drizzling of...
Me: Ew! Stop trying to bang the pie. Bro. Are YOU stoned? (Then I remembered the question.) Yes, I’m hungry. But I don’t like nuts. I’ll have banana cream.
Kirk made that repulsive grunty noise again. “Uhhhhh... Mmmmmm. Cream. Yessssss. Yes, we’ll be there in just a minute.” He was squirming in the driver's seat.
Me: GROSS, DUDE! If you’re gonna be like that I’ll just order HASH brows. Get it? Hash??? (I giggled.) You can’t make that sound nasty.
Kirk: Forgive my jokes. I think my blood sugar’s a bit low.
As Kirk parked, I began to wonder how I might get away with walking shoeless into the diner. The stilettos had to get off my feet. At least while I was walking. And Kirk was kind enough to give me his socks and wear his loafers “island style” into the establishment. Okay, that was gallant of him. Maybe he was going to behave himself for the rest of the evening.
I wasn’t terribly talkative as we sat down, and he expressed a bit of concern for my emotional well-being. I wasn’t coherent enough to explain what was happening to my emotions and I wasn’t sure I trusted him with my deep, dark secrets at that point. So I shrugged like a sulky teenager, ran my hands over my messy, windblown hair, and mumbled that I was “just hungry.” And right on cue, a very kind, slightly older waitress with a sweet southern accent stopped by to take our order.
Kirk: Ah, yes. We’ll have two cups of black coffee. And we’ll share a slice of that delectable Maple Walnut Pie.
Waitress: Oh, honey. That pie is scrumptious! I take it you’ve been here before?
Kirk: I have. This will be her first time to taste the splendor.
I hated to be a killjoy, but I interrupted and said to the waitress, “Ma’am? I’m sure the Maple Walnut is excellent, but could I please get a slice of Banana Cream? And a big glass of ice water?
Waitress: Sure, hon! Banana Cream’s just as yummy! I’ll be right back with those coffees and that big water.
Kirk was sucking on the tip of his forefinger and shaking his head a bit. “You’re passing up so many sensational... sensual...”
I put my forehead on the table and growled. “You swore you’d stop being nasty!” I held this #headdesk pose for quite some time before I finally lifted my head... only to see that Kirk was still sucking his fingertip and staring at me like a wild animal. “Pleeeeeease be normal,” I whined. “It’s been a really weird night for me.”
Kirk: Indeed. Many surprises. You know... You’re like titanium. Your flame burns so fast and so bright, if a guy doesn’t get in there while the iron is hot, he’ll never get another chance. I was too slow.
What the...? I was pretty sure he was wrong about titanium burning quickly. I’m no chemistry wiz, but my dad and my oldest brother are both big-brains when it comes to physics and chemistry. So I picked up some things just listening to them talk. Accurate or inaccurate, Kirk was being creepy again. He’d never been creepy towards me before, although I’d seen him act like this with other women. Usually with staggering success. Why????? His money. It had to be his money. Kirk was a nice-looking man, but holy shit... No amount of good looks could save this creep show
And then, our sweet waitress sat down our coffees, my water, and the two slices of pie. After I gulped down a whole bunch of water, I grabbed a fork, prepared to quell my munchies... and then I froze. Kirk was quickly flicking his finger back and forth across the top of his pie. And moaning. He noticed my wide-eyed stare, smirked, sucked the tip of his thumb, picked up the plate with both hands, and began flicking his tongue across the tip of the triangular pie slice. And moaning some more. Well, there went my appetite.
Kirk took his middle finger and jabbed it into the crustless vertex of the pie slice, then he began pumping it in and out like a piston, and flicking his thumb across the increasingly demolished top layer of whipped cream. He gasped this time. People were starting to stare. His pointer finger joined his middle finger in the piston action, and he replaced his thumb with his tongue. Between flicks of the tongue, he groaned, “Oh yeah, baby... Let me taste you,” but it was kind of hard to understand him.
And I was either about to run to the back office, tell them that I was in danger and needed a police escort home... OR I was about to burst out laughing at the spectacle. Kirk continued... He removed his fingers and gregariously licked pie filling off of them. "Ohhhhh," he groaned, "I got you soooo sticky. So sweet. So moist." And then he started sucking his fingertips again, switching from middle to pointer, middle to pointer and emitting a delighted little, “Mmmmmm” with every suck.
Finally, he jabbed his fingers back into the utterly destroyed pie, lowered his face into the mess and lapped loudly and passionately, moaning, grunting, and mumbling “Come on, baby. Come on. Mmmmmm. Come on.” I could see the waitress and some dude in a suit heading over to the table, so I sank down in my seat, partially covered my face, but continued to watch the train wreck. At last, Kirk shuddered violently as he splatted his entire hand onto the plate and rubbed furiously. And then he locked eyes with me. He sucked the tip of his thumb one final time and said, “You...” There was a long pause during which Kirk lovingly stroked the mess he’d made. “You... are the pie.”
I don’t hang out with Kadillac Kirk anymore. But he’s still a bachelor, ladies!

Wade held Jasmine in his arms as he flew a low height down the long road to another section of the staryard, Tina on his back and Nathan and F right behind them in the air. Together, the five glided across the base grounds, taking care as to not irritate the aerial security during their search for the meeting room. Being outside for the flight, the group considered it a blessing that Wade's 'enhanced cooling unit' allowed his body to tolerate the breaching sun in the still cloudy sky, which, according to F, was dangerous to drones like her due to the inefficient cooling she and disassembly drones like her suffered from. Given F's physical fault, she had to fly under shady areas in order to safely traverse the base at day.
Originally, Wade and his friends had planned to walk to the meeting zone, but after running into a trooper experiencing a health mishap, the group did what they could to help the distressed officer. By the time he was brought to the medical ward by other soldiers, Wade found that him and his team would be at least a few minutes late if they kept on their way with their walk.
Deciding to speed things up, Wade, understanding the concern for performing such an effort, opted to carry the Fowleys around the base to the meeting area. Reluctantly, F decided to come along, carrying Nathan in a similar manner that Wade was carrying Jasmine. Taking notice of the time on his HUD, which read, "9:47 AM", Wade scouted for the building he and his friends were directed to. "8072" He said to himself, the number being for the building that would house the imminent meeting.
"They said it was down here, right?" Wade asked aloud to Tina before stopping himself in mid-air, the girl holding onto him tightly as he tried to speak over the growing sound of a retrofit Apache flying overhead.
Looking about, Tina nodded as she spotted the target building. "Yes, I believe that's the one over there!" Pointing past his head, Wade followed her finger to a large building ahead at his right. The structure was moderately tall, only about two stories high, with several soldiers and officers going in and out of the building. Wade smiled as he noticed the target number, as well as the big, bold words describing the building's designation. "8072, Briefing Center B"
"Good eye, honey. Hang on!" Continuing his low glide, Wade zoomed towards the building's entrance before stopping just meters above the ground, his two friends close behind as they slowed down as well. The troopers around them initially looked startled by the sudden arrival of Wade and his group, but quickly regained their composure as Wade hovered still above them.
"At ease! Just visitors." One of the soldiers declared as they identified the newcomers, who touched down before Wade let Jasmine down to her feet, Tina hopping onto the ground along with her.
Putting his hands up, Wade apologized for his swift surprise. "Sorry for the scare, we got delayed for a meeting we're invited to."
The soldier gave an understanding nod as he replied to the former worker drone sternly. "I can see that, just be a bit more careful next time, Mr. Carter. You gave the boys here quite a scare."
Wade returned the gesture in embarrassment as F put a hand to his back, chuckling at his efforts as Tina questioned the officer. "Is Mrs. J in there? She's the one who called for us."
The guard gave his reply as Wade and Tina pulled out their IDs for clearance. "Yes she is, Miss. The meeting's set to begin in under ten minutes." Checking the two drones' IDs, Jasmine and the others pulled out theirs as well, the watchman motioning another trooper over to verify the group. Once the guard finished checking the five's cards, he nodded in approval as the watchman spoke once more. "You're clear to enter."
"Thank you Sir, again, sorry about that spook back there." Wade replied with a smile as the trooper gave one of his own, the disassembly drone and his allies making their way towards the office door before stopping upon the call of a voice.
"Hey, Felice!" Wade turned to find the origin of the voice, F doing the same as the two quickly spotted a quartet of soldiers walking excitedly towards F. The disassembly drone glanced to her friends with a smile before turning back to the approaching entourage.
Wade examined the four troops as they got closer: Two human men, one woman, and a male worker drone. One of the male soldiers had short, blonde hair, and a small scar to the right side of their face. The second man bore a tan skin tone and had black hair, with blue strips that went down slightly in a mullet style. The woman bore a set of long, dark green hair, with the hair going down and over her left shoulder. As for the worker drone, he wore the standard green soldier helmet, single eye visor and all. He had no hair on him from what Wade could tell, and bore a pair of whiteish purple eyes on his visor.
As F walked over to the soldiers, the same one that called to her spoke again. "Felicity, I didn't expect to see you around here today! Where you been?"
The girl soldier interrupted his initial chatter. "Hang on Carlos, do you even know if she remembers us?"
"Aye, don't she have one o' them memory locks, or sumthin?" The drone added in a heavy Scottish accent.
F waved her hand as she replied to the group. "Easy, everyone. Thankfully I still got my memories, courtesy of my technician back at Central." Lowering her hand, F let down her usual persona as she gave a wide smirk to the soldiers, clearly pleased to see them. "Good to see you guys around here."
The soldiers gave light cheers to F as they all embraced her, the group having a surprise reunion as Wade and the others watched in surprise. These must've been F's old colleagues from when she was in the service, Wade thought. Quite the coincidence for them to be here at this base of all places.
Not bothering with the convenience of the matter, Wade shook the thought off as he and his friends watched F and her old friends breaking the hug, Tina wrapping an arm around her boyfriend as the second male human spoke to her in what the two discerned as Spanish. "Ay, who your new friends, F?"
"Oh, these guys?" F replied in the same language, quietly startling Wade and the others as they had never heard her speak like that until now. Glancing over to Wade, F motioned him and the others to come over. "Everyone, these are some friends I made in the past few days. Wade, Nathan, Tina, and Jasmine." She pointed her hand to the four as she said each of their names. "I met the boys here during my time on Ceres. Jasmine and Tina here are sisters."
The four soldiers gave various forms of excitement, ranging from hearty laughs to low woops and even a whistle from one of the guys. As F stood next to her old teammates, they each introduced themselves to Wade and his friends. The blonde soldier went first. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all, name's Carlos, Lieutenant Marksman."
"I'm Private Alvaros, good with close-range and stealth operations." Said the tan soldier with a salute.
"Sergeant Lucia Vasquez, usually the one who leads this bunch around these days." The female warrior stated with a humorous smirk.
"And Corporal Duncan Wallace, at your service!" The soldier drone stated proudly as he saluted to the bunch in front of him, who gave warm smiles as Wade shook his hand.
"Quite honored to meet you all, seems you have quite the history with F." The former worker drone said as Carlos patted F on her back.
"Oh, we do! She's the one who took charge when we didn't! Did you all hear of the Pasting of Nola VI?" Jasmine and Tina gave nods of affirmation while Wade, not as familiar with such history, held his hand up in a questioning manner.
"I think, wasn't that the battle where the Navy just barely held the outpost in that system? From the Stryker Clan?" Wade asked as Carlos nodded approvingly to him.
"That's right, and if Felice weren't there, WE would've been the ones getting pasted!" Carlos' statement brought victorious cheers and "oorahs" from the group, F letting a blush loose as she chuckled at her team's praise of her efforts.
"Well, that's not wrong." Although she didn't want to break off from her friends and discuss the past few years since they'd last met, F remembered the briefing. Clearing her throat, she continued. "And as much as I'd like to chat about the good times, I've been called to a meeting here, as have Wade and his crew."
The soldier group gave understanding looks to F as Lucia spoke up. "Thought so, Carl here was real eager to see you, though."
"Maybe we can talk after the meeting?" Nathan proposed as the soldiers collectively nodded in agreement, F readying a smartcomm attachment before turning to face her friends again.
"We're probably getting low on time, you all go in, I'll catch up in a sec." Wade nodded in acknowledgement before taking Tina's hand, the lover drones continuing towards the briefing center as Jasmine and Nathan followed behind them.
Passing through the door, the four guests observed a short hallway, which seemed to split into two paths as they came closer to the other end. Looking to a sign on the wall above, they saw arrows pointing to two separate areas, "Primary Briefing Room; Main Lobby + Secondary & Tertiary" Going to the right, they entered the moderately active lobby, several officers walking and standing about in mass chatter. Walking over to the desk up against the wall to their left, Wade and his group waved a hand to the occupying attendant.
"Welcome, what do you need?" The desk attendant asked as Tina raised a finger to reply.
"We're here for a meeting, Mrs. J called us here."
The attendant nodded in understanding before directing an arm towards the other end of the room, where a single door stood. "She should be in the second briefing room down that way."
"Thank you." Tina replied warmly before she and Wade began walking towards the door, their friends behind them as they proceeded into the room.
The room beyond the door was quite sizable, a large circular table occupying the middle with several chairs surrounding it. The walls went up a few meters, with four whiteish blue lights illuminating the room. On the wall opposite to Wade and Tina were three monitor screens, all of which showed the USN in bright blue. In several of the seats were faces both familiar and unfamiliar, several men and women in varying styles of uniforms conversing about quietly or taking notice of the recent visitors. Standing up near the monitors were three people: A decorated officer whom Tina identified as a ship captain, and the so-called operatives, Tessa, albeit as a hologram, and J.
Walking slowly into the room, Wade gave a low wave of his hand as he tried to hide his nervousness. Noticing his shyness in front of the officers, Tina held his hand and rubbed his arm comfortingly while returning a pleasant smile to the staff in the room.
"Ah, Wade, Tina. Glad to see you all here." J stated with a smile as she scanned the group, raising a digital eyebrow as she noticed one missing guest. "Or, most of you, I see. Did F run off somewhere?"
Wade shook his head as he replied to his fellow disassembly drone. "Oh, no. She just ran into some old friends, she should be back-"
"Right now." F finished aloud as she entered the room, seemingly having heard Wade speaking about her absence. The warrior drone fast walked to Wade's team, taking a seat near them as they prepared to do the same. "Not too late, are we?"
"Not at all." The standing officer answered as the group took their seats, Wade and Tina sitting next to each other as they got comfortable. The captain examined the lot for a moment, glancing to J as he asked about them. "So, these are the ones you helped rescue from the Mojave?"
"Yes Captain, and they helped us out greatly in turn. This is Wade Carter, one of the captured drones whom became a disassembly drone before we could mount the rescue. The luckiest one, if you ask me." Motioning her arm over the others, she continued. "And there's his girlfriend, Mrs. Tina Fowley, and her sister Jasmine." Smirking to F and Nathan, she finished her friends' introductions. "And these two are Serial Designation F and Mr. Nathan, whom I've heard were once under your ranks."
The military captain gave a welcoming smile to the five as they returned the gesture, eyeing F and Nathan specifically before speaking to them. "Indeed they were, we still have records on their contributions to the colonies." Eyeing F, he continued. "Though, in Mrs. F's case, I won't blame her if she doesn't remember us. We've been very well aware of JCJenson's 'memory suppression' protocols when it comes to their DDs."
F laid back in her seat with a smug look as she replied to her former superior. "Well, my friend on the station's a good tech gal. She's... waived that hindrance from me."
"I see, that means your still with us, am I right, Mrs. Lee?" Unlike her friends next to her, F was not startled by her original name being said aloud, rather smiling proudly as she saluted to the captain. "Good to see you again."
"Pleased to be here, Sir." F replied as she lowered her arm, glancing to her companions next to her as J spoke up.
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Captain Preston Mitchell, commander of the USNV Vickers down at the stardock."
Wade gave a respectful salute to Preston as he spoke first. "It's an honor to meet you, Sir."
"Thank you, Mr. Carter. I've heard about your efforts from J, you did an admirable job back there, son." Wade failed to hide an embarrassed blush from the compliment, but it quickly faded as a beep sounded from a small device on the table. It was swiftly silenced by the captain as he tapped a button on the small, pyramid shaped timer, then facing Wade's group before continuing. "Though, as much as we could use some small talk, it'll have to wait till later."
"Indeed, we're running late at this point." Said another officer, a highly decorated member of the base with dark skin, dark grey hair and a thin beard. He immediately won the attention of everyone in the room as he spoke up. "I'm General Hugh Hood, overseer of this base. I'm certain you know some of the reasons you're here with us, correct?"
Wade nodded as he spoke to Hood. "Yeah, it's cause of those rogue agents from the JCJenson corporation." Glancing to J, the corporate drone nodded in affirmation before speaking herself.
"Tessa and I spent the last hours of yesterday evening clearing up the matter with General Hood, along with several other officials stationed here." She stopped as the middle monitor behind her flashed with a banner at the top, reading, "INCOMING TRANSMISSION", and in place of the USN emblem was a textless version of the JCJenson logo. Below the profile image was another two lines of text. "N. Jenson (Company Exec); Comms Source: Yottrite IV"
"And also told our boss about what happened here too, he wanted to give his say on this ordeal." Looking to the general, J asked him, "May I put him on?"
Hood only gave a nod of approval to the corporate drone before she picked up a remote on the table and tapped a button, accepting the call as the picture shifted to show a middle-aged man in a pristine-looking business suit on the screen.
Wade and Tina glanced to each other before J introduced their guest on the screen. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the CEO of JCJenson: Mr. Noor Jenson."
Jenson gave a pleased nod to his subordinate as he spoke to J. "Thank you for the pleasantries, J. I see we are ready to discuss our plans on dealing with this 'recall' disaster I've bore witness to on the news this morning?"
J nodded as she replied to her boss. "Indeed, I've explained to General Hood here about our efforts yesterday, and, as of recent, we've just received a message from a source we believe to be close to the company."
Mr. Jenson looked down to J attentively as he spoke to her. "Well, that's quite intriguing news, J. Do you have this message available for us to view?" J and Hood both nodded in affirmation, but didn't get an immediate reply as Jenson gazed to Wade and his friends. "...And I presume these are some of the drones rescued from one of the factories?"
Again, J nodded to her superior before explaining her colleagues. "Yes Mr. Jenson, the two drones at the front in particular were among those taken by the Administrator and their subordinates." Pointing an arm to Wade and Tina, she introduced the drone couple. "The disassembly drone here is Mr. Wade Carter, a brother to his-technically speaking-owner, the late Ron Carter. The latter helped us recover Wade during an initial raid inside the Nevada facility." When bringing up Ron, J gave an apologetic look to Wade as to show she did not mean to be offending on him and his brother's relationship. "And this is his romantic partner, Mrs. Tina Fowley. I heard she and her sister Jasmine are pilots."
Jenson looked over the two drones as his obedient employee described them to him, quietly sighing as Wade and Tina returned the gaze with nervous smiles. Once J finished, Jenson spoke to Wade. "I... would say it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter. But, given recent events, I don't hold fault to you for feeling frustrated at me for my... former subordinate's actions."
Wade shook his head lightly, taking Jenson's light apology with a faint smile as he replied to the CEO. "Actually, I don't. The only person I have such feelings put towards is," He hesitated for a moment, his anger at Dr. Halloway returning for a short moment before he eased himself. "..That bastard Halloway."
"The feeling's mutual, Mr. Carter. Dr. Halloway has been trying my patience for years now, especially with you and your fellow disassembly drones." Looking to J, then F, he returned his gaze to Wade before questioning him on his new body. "I don't know if J has told you of this, but if there's one truth my company has admittedly not held up to for a while, it's our quality. Recently, some of my research staff here made blueprints for an upgraded variant of the disassembly drone design. It's intended to fix several faults we expected to be nonexistent previously, most notably that atrocious cooling unit."
As a schematic pulled up on the left monitor, everyone glanced to the improved design before F spoke up about it. "If I may ask, Mr. Jenson, how big of an improvement is this new cooling unit supposed to be?"
"Good question, F. Frankly, it's supposed to do away with the issue entirely. Saves us from sacrificing enormous supplies of oil for the poorly built unit in the previous iterations. We even tested it with a repaired drone just a few days ago, and it worked flawlessly." Then, glancing to Wade again, he questioned the former worker drone on his new form. "Speaking of, how does your enhanced body feel, Mr. Carter? I'm certain it feels better to not have to-"
"Actually, Mr. Jenson," Wade interrupted, pulling out one of his canteens as he answered the CEO on his upgrades. "I guess Halloway changed up the blueprints, cause unfortunately this new cooling unit didn't cure the overheating problem. I... kinda learned that the hard way." Wade glanced to Tina apologetically, still feeling bad from her seeing him eat the corpse of the dead murder drone back at the factory.
The corporate CEO grimaced in frustration as he took in Wade's statement, already intolerant of the head researcher's actions as he replied. "...I was worried about that, Edgar always likes to run things his own way, making excuses for that 'Administrator' he watches over." Taking an agitated breath, he continued on with his spew on the two culprits of yesterday's events. "It was only because of all the very impressive creations and enhancements she and her research team provided that I tolerated them for so long, but this..." Sitting up straight in front of the camera, Jenson finished sternly. "J said the Administrator... Cyn, I believe? She was apparently something worse than we presumed originally, and I'm very inclined to believe so after yesterday."
"As well as the program tied to the Administrator, the AbsoluteSolver." J clarified before receiving an agreeing nod from Mr. Jenson, standing corrected on his placing of blame.
Raising a hand, Nathan asked about the supposed plans. "Yeah, about this "Solver Project", what do we plan to do about that?"
"Good question, Nate." Tessa replied as she crossed her arms before looking to Jenson and beginning her explanation. "Initially, we were going to investigate the other factories spread across Earth in order to get some more info on the Administrator before things get worse. But, just this morning, it seems someone else saved us the trouble." Just as Tessa neared the end of her sentence, J held up the remote again, tapping a few buttons before the left monitor shifted to show a slightly grainy video onscreen.
The video only showed a single being, a worker drone, dressed in a chrome suit and bearing a set of yellow eyes. Behind them was what appeared to be a vacant room, a few shelves holding many books within them standing still in the back. The drone's visage indicated they were filled with immense anxiety, terrified of being caught as they spoke quietly to the camera.
"I can only hope someone gets this in time, they're gonna be on me once they find out the transmitter screens are down!" Turning the camera, he showed what appeared to be a large factory room, several more of the mysterious conveyor belts like at the factory slotted next to each other. It was hard to discern every detail due to not only the window reflection, but also the dark lighting in the inactive conveyor room. Filming the room beyond, the drone continued. "Dr. Halloway's a madman, he's got more of those stolen drones being brought here and he's going to be overseeing it in the afternoon tomorrow! I've seen what happened back in Nevada, I can't take this any longer! I'm at coordinates ##.######, -###.###### Please, send someo-"
The suspicious, partially scrambled transmission immediately cut off to static, leaving Wade, Tina, and their friends with confused expressions as Tessa spoke up. "Yeah, that caught me by surprise too."
"So, that guy says they got more drones being sent 'there', but... where is there, exactly?" Jasmine asked with immense curiosity.
"I was hoping you'd ask that, Mrs. Fowley." The technician replied as she glanced to J, who tapped a few more buttons on the remote before speaking over her boss-friend.
"While the transmission itself isn't much to work off of, our friends from Comms over here managed to intercept the signal earlier, and even better, discern where it originated from." As J started her explanation, the screen shifted once more to show a large city, with one skyscraper highlighted in red as it was zoomed towards on the screen. "That scrambled audio wasn't a simple glitch, it was intentionally done so as to hide key information for us to uncover. Upon cleaning up the message, we managed to recover a set of coordinates, which direct to this structure here, in San Francisco."
Wade and his friends stared at the building in shock, examining the tall structure as it stood over the shorter buildings in the city. Tina broke the silence in her gaze. "So, this is another factory? It looks... terribly different from the one we got out of."
"Not exactly, Mrs. Fowley." Mr. Jenson answered, Tina and the others looking to him as he continued. "THAT is the Administrator's main laboratory, its location was kept on the down low so other authorities and terrorist groups wouldn't find out what the buildings true purpose was." Sighing, Jenson completed his reply. "But, with this recent mistake of Halloway's, that place has lost all purpose for us at the company."
Wade raised a hand to speak. "So, we're going to pounce on that place? Get Halloway before he runs off again?"
"Exactly." General Hood replied as he looked up to Mr. Jenson. "This whole 'recovery/recruitment' effort has gotten out of hand all across Sol. We've gotten countless reports of people being killed because of this, be it the brutal robberies here in Nevada or the bloodbath on Ceres. Even if Mr. Jenson refuses to cooperate, this has become a dire matter for us now. One way or another, this insanity will be stopped with due haste."
The CEO nodded in acknowledgement before explaining his own plans for the mission. "Speaking of cooperation, upon seeing what was happening at Earth, I ordered a detachment of our corporate starships in orbit at the time to depart for Sol in order to help with investigating the situation. They're not warships, but they are well-armed. I'll dispatch them to your authority upon concluding this call." Glancing to Wade and his team for a moment, Jenson continued. "As for the mission, I may not have much of a say, but let it be known that you have my blessing to do whatever it takes to end this madness. I don't care what you do with Halloway or any of his lackeys, or what happens to that facility down there... I want that program shut down."
"Thank you for the extra hands, Mr. Jenson. We'll make sure this Administrator is dealt with." Hood replied gratefully as Wade sat firm in his seat, Tina and the others following suite.
"General?" The former worker drone said aloud, catching Hood's attention before he made his request. "I know I'm not a soldier, but I want to help with dealing with Halloway and his grunts. After what he did, after losing my brother, I can't rest until I see that man stopped."
Tina raised a finger as well. "As do I, Wade could use a hand with those people, and given how we did during our escape run out of that place, I think the two of us make quite the duo." She glanced to Wade with a smirk as she referenced their combat prowess when flying together.
Nathan and F stood up before the latter gave her own request. "Sir, I wish to take part in this mission as well. I can also recommend Wade for you too, as I fought alongside him during the factory raid."
"Wouldn't mind giving a hand myself! And I'm sure my pal Kurtis would love to help, he's here at the base too!" Nathan added with a confident smirk, the group's determination encouraging Jasmine to stand up as well.
"I'd like to help too." She stated simply, a smile on her face as the general and his companions observed the five guests.
Admittedly, Hood knew it would be a bit absurd to allow these people to take part in an operation which would certainly involve bloodshed, especially considering most of them merely had civilian status at the moment. But, upon careful evaluation of the five, their desire to see this problem dealt with, and the fact that some of them had experience on the field...
He paused his train of thought as Captain Mitchell spoke to him. "General? I read up on the Fowleys' files when we recovered Mrs. Jasmine here, they provided service in their early careers." He smirked to the pilot sisters as he finished adding his say. "And to be frank, we need more people like them here. The records we have of them showed them to be damn fine pilots."
Tina blushed at the praise from Mitchell as she spoke to the general. "That is true, we uh... did get discharged for our... 'fancy maneuvering'."
"Sir?" Jasmine said, the general's attention on her as she added to the conversation. "Even if our flying is a bit out of protocol, Tina saved a lot of people on that starjet a few days back. I can promise you, she's an excellent woman to have at the wheel."
Glancing to Wade again, Hood took in his face, one of begging desperation as he spoke once more. "Please, Sir. My brother, the troops he brought from the Coalition, Halloway's gotten them all killed cause of this. I want to do this. I HAVE to do this, at least for them."
The good general took a deep, quiet breath, considering his decision once more before finally revealing it to Wade and his friends. "Mr. Carter, Fowleys? I'm probably making myself a fool for saying this, but you're permitted to assist us in this mission."
The drone couple contained their gratefulness in the form of ecstatic grins as Wade replied to the general. "Thanks, General. We won't let you down."
"And Mrs. Lee?" Hood said as he glanced to F, who returned the gesture as he told her, "You're technically under Mr. Jenson's authority, whatever his answer is, it's mine as well."
Bringing her yellow-orange eyes to her CEO, F awaited Mr. Jenson's answer. "F, yes? I heard Mr. Hood call you by a different name just now, I assume you have some experience with the army?"
The warrior drone nodded as she explained herself. "I once inherited the name of Felicity Lee, Mr. Jenson. I served under the USN Defense Forces before joining the DD Division." Then, glancing to the military staff near her, she finished with, "I had hoped to provide my enhancements to the Force one day."
Jenson gave a hint of a proud smile as he finally gave his decision. "Well, it seems you'll finally get that chance. From now on, even after this mission on Earth is over with, you're hereby dispatched to serve under the USN."
F admittedly couldn't hide her excited smirk as she flung a salute to her now former boss. "Thank you Sir!"
Looking up to Jenson, General Hood asked the CEO, "Mr. Jenson, how long until your ships can reach Earth?"
Jenson glanced down at his communication console as he answered the military leader. "At max speed, their Ion drives should be able to bring them into orbit in as little as one to two days. I believe there should be some ships within the system that could help as well."
"Signal them when you can, Mr. Jenson. We could use all the help we can get from them." The CEO nodded to Hood as he stood firmly to the viewer, the general turning to face Wade and his colleagues. "And Mr. Carter? We'll be mobilizing our forces immediately after this meeting concludes. It'll be a minute, but I want you to gather whatever items and belongings you'll need for this operation. Be ready to head to the flight pads in no more than three hours."
"Understood Sir!" Wade said with a salute, Tina, Jasmine and Nathan giving their own as Jasmine raised a finger.
"What about the area around the lab? That place looks like it's in the middle of the city."
J raised a finger as she told Jasmine and the others about their resolution of the civilian obstacle. "Shortly after reporting our findings on the transmission, Hood told us that they were sending in some teams to clear out the civilian population within several miles of the facility. Once we get there, it should be of no concern."
Jasmine sighed in relief as Tina spoke up. "So the people should be safe from any sort of danger?"
"Correct, Mrs. Tina." Preston answered before continuing. "Given the resistance Halloway and his men showed during the Coalition's raid, they most certainly won't hold back there."
"One more thing, Sir." Nathan asked. "The Coalition's going to help us out with this too, right?"
"You can count on it, Mr. Nathan." The Vickers' captain replied as he looked to J, then to Jenson as he spoke further. "I met the leader of the Coalition's detachment working with us when I was introduced to J and Mrs. Elliott here, they intend to see this conflict finished. I highly doubt they're willing to sit back and let us do this by ourselves."
"And their help will be much appreciated." Hood added, everyone's attention returned to him as he looked to Tessa, curious eyes scanning her holographic form. "And Mrs. Elliott, if I may. Do you mind heading down here to assist us in our investigations later on?"
"Funny you say that, General. I'm almost done with my own snooping around on the JCJ up in orbit, Cyn has some small departments of hers aboard, and I thought I'd gather some more intel before coming down." Glancing to Mr. Jenson, she saw him giving an understanding nod before returning her gaze to the military staff. "I should be down there by the evening, judging by where you're located."
"Do what you must, Mrs. Elliott. We could use whatever you find." Hood replied firmly as he turned once more to the JCJenson CEO. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Jenson. We will get to the bottom of this."
"It's my pleasure, General." Glancing to J and Tessa, he spoke to them once more. "J? Contact me when you've finished with Halloway and his Administrator."
"It'll be done, Mr. Jenson." The obedient servant answered before saluting firmly, receiving a final nod from her boss before he ended the transmission.
With their off-world guest out of the way, Hood looked to Wade and his friends, J, Tessa and Captain Mitchells sharing the gaze with them as the general spoke to them in finality. "Well, you know what comes next everyone. You're all dismissed for now. And remember, landing zone by 1300."
"We'll be there Sir." Wade said with a nod as he and his friends stood up, pushing in their chairs before making their way out to the door.
As they neared it, Wade stopped for a moment as they heard Hood call to one of his friends. "And F?" The soldier drone looked to the general as he continued. "Before we depart, would you mind changing your uniform? I believe it could help with identifying you from the other disassembly drones more easily." Glancing to J, then back to F, he finished with, "I recall hearing about the most formidable drones having clones prepared, yes?"
"Correct, Sir. I'll stop by the nearest barracks while I can." F replied before turning back to the door with her colleagues, Wade opening the door for them all as they passed through. After them, Wade passed through himself, shutting the door to the meeting room as he returned to the lobby.
Walking about together, F spoke to Wade and the others. "Well, that went smoothly. I'll be heading down to the barracks, then head over to your place to help out."
"Actually," Wade replied, raising a finger up as he asked his fellow murder drone, "You think you could bring your friends over? We could get to know each other while we're getting ready."
F glanced to Nathan with a smile before returning her eyes to Wade. "I could see about that. You're gonna like them, I can promise you that."
Taking Tina's hand, Wade walked with his girlfriend alongside Jasmine and the others, nearing the hallway they came through as they prepared for the walk back to the apartment.

Its taken me nearly 20 years to make sense of something I happened upon for the first time as a teenager.
There are said to be old service tunnels that run from the naval-shipyard to various locations under my hometown, believed to have been originally built around WWI. But In the early 1940s, the main tunnel was opened as a fallout shelter capable of holding 10,000 people . The rest of the tunnels were supposedly closed off when new construction around town occurred in the 1970s. My grandpa worked construction on what at the time was to be the tallest building in town, adorned with a clock at the peak. He like to brag about having "put a hand on nearly every rock in that build'n" or saying "I remember when that was a pile of rubble until we worked on it". He also liked to say "There are still many old places that hold many old secrets for those brave enough to seek them" but I assumed that he meant the bottom of a bottle.
The main streets are a reminder of the infrastructure built in the 1930s and 40s. Many of the businesses on the street were the ground level of a larger office or warehouse buildings. Some were single story buildings, shoehorned in between the larger ones. There is also a Masonic Lodge history with the town. They built the original temple way back then, and then a couple decades later, built another building and moved there. Their presence is clearly noticeable in the architecture all over the town. There are even plenty of houses in town that were built in the same fashion.
It's amazing how small town gossip can be passed down from generation to generation. I first heard about the tunnels as a young boy from a classmate in the second grade. She said that her dad worked on the base(it’s a naval shipyard) and was an important man because they had an escape tunnel under her house. I think I believed her at the time but I never really saw her after around that point. Even at that age I associated her as a Navy brat. I just assumed they moved.
I never really gave it much thought though until I was about 16, in the year 2005. I was a punk teen. I smoked weed and cigarettes as often as I could. I skipped a lot of school, choosing to go get fucked up and skateboard on private property somewhere. I spent a lot of time all over the town and in the most secluded locations. As a skater I'm telling you there were/are some sick spots! A majority of the buildings are that original brick masonry. Stair cases, gaps, banks, ledges, rails. The biggest problem is that skateboarding was a form of vandalism to public property. It was that year after enough people kept getting into trouble that the skaters of our community petitioned city-hall to have a skatepark built. They listened and even let us help design it. It definitely mimics some of the most popular aspects from downtown.
I stumbled upon the first of the tunnel entrances down an alleyway in downtown. The kicker is that, of course it was past midnight and of course I had been drinking and smoking pot. But that's also why I was in the alleys. Anyone hanging out there wasn't looking for any attention. Yes looking back I regret doing all the stupid things I did. I knew the area like the back of my hand but for some reason I was never able to find an entrance while sober. The alley way is particularly remarkable and I had been down it numerous times before. It’s the only one that has a man bridge over the alley connecting two separate buildings. It’s like a hallway fully enclosed with windows, matching the appearance of the buildings. I had just passed under it and to the next building where a smaller dumpster sat. The dumpster had one side pulled away from the building it was butted up against. It was dark but I could see a gaping dark hole behind and underneath the dumpster. I pulled my lighter out to reveal a staircase leading under the building. It was hard to see but I could tell from the edges of the opening that there was supposed to be a metal or wooden cover.
Intrigued I pulled out my old Nokia cellphone. The screen albeit small and dim, it did glow and in the dark-dark was better than nothing. I didn't want to burn myself and wanted to conserve my lighter for other things. I don't know why exactly I felt I needed to but I dropped down behind the dumpster to the stairwell and held my phone up high like a lantern. The stairs went down maybe 15 steps to a flat that went through a doorway on the left. Curiosity out weighed rationality in those days and I made my way down to the flat as quietly as I could. As the last bit of ambient light and noise from the dark quiet alley disappeared, the calm stagnant air in the concrete passage way that acted like an echo chamber was a stark shift in environment.
There was a hallway beyond the doorway that was extremely narrow and not very long. It was only wide enough for one person. It was probably 15 feet in length or so. As I slowly proceeded, the hallway dumped out into a much larger tunnel. I remember thinking "a bus could fit through here!" and it stretched far beyond the dim lights reach of my Nokia. I debated on whether I should just head back and decided now was an appropriate time to spark up a smoke, which didn't mix well with the stale air. Replacing my light source with the flame from my lighter provided enough light to see a panel of switches on the wall next to the smaller tunnel. I flipped one and the main tunnel lit up surprisingly, popping a humming to life. It was at least a football field in length. There were a few other similar little tunnels in various locations along this larger one.
As I was taking in just how long it was I peered from one end to the other and down at the farthest end was what looked like a person. The realization snapped me out of my wonderment. I was now uneasy at the thought that someone was down here just hanging out in the darkness. The more I focused on the figure the more it appeared that it was just standing down there staring at me. I looked the other direction but didn't notice anyone or anything. Taking a drag as I looked back towards the figure who I was now significantly closer to, I stopped in mid step. I hadn't been aware of it but I had been walking towards the figure. That's when everything in my body told me to leave now. And in that very moment the figure began running at me full sprint. There was no time to make sense of how or why I was walking towards the figure or why I was even down here in the first place as I turned running as fast as I could.
When I got to the smaller tunnel I took the opportunity to glance back over my shoulder while rounding the corner. To my absolute terror the figure was right where I was when I started running. I could hear the foot steps echoing off every surface followed with the creepiest snarling. I hit the stairs skipping three or four steps at a time. The light from the night city sky poured over the remaining steps and I nearly forgot the drop I had made getting down there. As I reached for the side of the stair well to pull my self up I could here that thing hit the stairs. With every ounce of adrenaline I heaved myself up and rolled out into the alley. Frantically I picked myself up and rammed into the dumpster closing the gap and began to head to the main street. That night I sprinted the nearly 1.5 miles back home without stopping or looking back.
I wish I could say that I forgot about that night and the tunnels to save myself some sanity in life. If I had only known this was the beginning of something much older and darker than I could have imagined. It took me a few weeks to shake the initial shock of that encounter. Eventually I went back during the day but couldn't even find the dumpster. I put it out of my mind until about six months later when an opportunity came up to visit with my grandpa...

"I love "Star Trek" deeply because of its radical, aggressive optimism. It envisions a world, and a form of entertainment, that downplays conflict. Drama and power can come from elsewhere. The future, "Trek" always declared, was going to be populated by nerds, miracle tech, and egalitarianism. And what's so funny about peace, love, and understanding?"
Witney Seibold (SlashFilm)
Link:
https://www.slashfilm.com/1582617/star-trek-changed-my-life-forever-reigns-as-greatest-sci-fi-franchise-of-all-time/
Quotes:
"Like many Trekkies, I came to "Star Trek" at an early age. Throughout the 1980s, reruns of the original series would air on my local station (KCOP, channel 13 in Los Angeles), and they would serve as a periodic video backdrop to our dinnertimes. As a child, "Star Trek" was merely an action-light, horror-heavy sci-fi adventure series, and my older sister and I would gleefully yell out when Spock (Leonard Nimoy) performed his notorious Vulcan nerve pinch, or when Captain Kirk (William Shatner) got to snog an itinerant babe. We would hide our heads from the monster of the week; like many, I was terrified by the scowling face of Balok, the Ted Cassidy-voiced puppet alien from "The Corbomite Maneuver" (November 10, 1966).
Perhaps unusually for a child, I wasn't powerfully drawn to action, fights, or explosions in my entertainment. I would indeed watch the era's toyetic wartime cartoons like "Transformers" and "G.I. Joe," of course, but I didn't care deeply for the characters, nor have much invested in their dramatic stakes. I had trouble taking the "oorah" action seriously, perhaps already innately understanding that the cartoon soldiers were fictional and their triumphs were only temporary; what is the meaning of a victory when the bad guys will merely return the following week?
I only realized this in retrospect, but "Star Trek" was secretly providing an antidote to the breathless mayhem oozing from every pore of my generation's childhood entertainment. It was a series that, despite bad guys, monsters, and fights, was ultimately teaching intense lessons of diplomacy and leadership. The crew of the Enterprise weren't "violent/cool," and I liked that. Finally, I realized, here was a show about pacifism.
And, yes, "Star Trek" communicated themes of pacifism. It might have been a fluke of 1960s special effects budgets, but "Star Trek" rarely showed the USS Enterprise firing off its weapons or getting into full-scale starship battles. The common playground pop culture query of "who would win in a fight?" seemed churlish with "Star Trek." Would Kirk win in a fight with, say, Han Solo? Even as a wee bairn, I had to ask why Kirk and Han Solo would be fighting in the first place. I figured Spock would merely ask Han Solo about his ship while Kirk invited him in for a meal. Power, "Star Trek" argued, wasn't derived from one's ability to dominate and overwhelm others with tactics and weapons prowess, but to negotiate, adapt, and remain friendly.
[...]
Whether "Star Trek" taught me to be a pacifist or whether I was already a pacifist can be debated, but creator Gene Roddenberry and I were definitely on the same wavelength. "Star Trek" took place in a post-war universe at a time when humans had outgrown the need to kill each other for resources, and petty political grievances were a thing of the past.
[...]
Star Trek is for nerds, and that's a good thing
While it may be a cliché, I still maintain that "Star Trek" is for nerds. That is, I should hasten to add, a high compliment. With the release of "Next Generation," I was given my clearest, most refreshing draft of action-antidote. I began to realize that the rest of the American viewing public longed for conflict and war and action in their entertainment, with boys my age constantly raving about the latest 'splosion-fest that evoked the word "awesome."
Meanwhile, over on "Star Trek: The Next Generation," the universe had already graduated, moved into the stars, and gave up on action altogether. Oh sure, Commander Riker (Jonathan Frakes) was handy with a phaser, Worf (Michael Dorn) could murder you with a bat'leth, and the USS Enterprise-D needed to employ some sneaky battlefield tactics to outgun the Borg (or any number of other opponents), but one always got the sense that weapons and fights were a last-ditch tactic, a formality that must be seen through before an understanding could be reached. War was to be avoided at all costs.
What's more, there were classical references! Whenever Picard quoted Shakespeare, my heart would sing. By the time I turned 13 (when NextGen had just finished its fourth season), I too was getting into Shakespeare and Picard emerged as a teacher, a fictional professor that you didn't want to disappoint. I finally realized that the nerdy sci-fi technicalities of "Star Trek," along with its classical obsessions, workplace propriety, devotion to diplomacy, multicultural mindsets, and ability to brainstorm open-minded solutions to complex problems ... these were all aspirational states. Scoop in a few ethical dilemmas — racism, euthanasia, gender politics — and "Trek" gave me everything.
Star Trek obsession is healthy, actually
Like with the original series, the peacefulness of "Next Generation" could easily have been a product of its budget; without the money to stage massive phaser battles, fights and scrapes rarely rose above the skirmish level. This, by necessity, required the show to de-emphasize violence. The makers of "NextGen" also couldn't afford to visit alien worlds regularly, forcing them to shoot on the same six or seven sets week after week.
The limitations, however, allowed Trekkies to enjoy our time on board the Enterprise. "Star Trek" is, after all, a workplace drama above anything else, and we loved seeing the characters do their jobs on an day-to-day basis. We lived with the Enterprise crew long enough that we started to get a sense of how the ship worked. That, in turn, led directly into fantasies of living in "Star Trek," knowing we could operate the machinery if asked. It also didn't seem so terrible to live in a world that was devoted to science, peace, and diplomacy.
[...]
When J.J. Abrams' 2009 "Star Trek" reboot film came out, the franchise was altered to be one of the usual action flicks that "Trek" previously eschewed. It appealed to a mass audience. Conversations began as to what constituted "real Trek," leading directly into additional conversations about gatekeeping, fandom, and franchise evolution. Is "Star Trek" for nerds, or can it appeal to — for lack of a better term — jocks?
Conversations between Trekkies in the 1990s were impassioned, but rarely caustic (at least in my experience). In 2009, however, notions of fan toxicity were more openly acknowledged among pop obsessives, and people became angrier about their obsessions. All of a sudden, I was an "old school" Trekkie.
I was 31 and okay being "old school." After all, decades had passed since "Next Generation," a series that responded to Ronald Reagan and flourished during the 1990s. Why shouldn't it adjust again? I didn't like the franchise's actioned-up response to 9/11, but I was still happy to have debates as to what "Star Trek" meant and what modern action films communicated.
"Trek" taught me to negotiate ... about "Trek."
What Star Trek means today
I am on record with my feelings about the Paramount+ era of "Star Trek," and I have frequently been rather critical. I want to go on record, however, that my criticisms are not based in misplaced nostalgia, prejudicial hate against new "Star Trek," nor a gradually closing mind (an unfortunate affliction that can sometimes strike people rounding middle age). Indeed, I have liked a great deal of the "Star Trek" shows that have debuted since 2017. I think "Star Trek: Lower Decks" perfectly balances humor and irreverence with notable "Star Trek" themes of growth and maturity. "Lower Decks" is about lower-ranking officers who have the crappiest jobs on a Starfleet vessel, and struggle to grow up when they have a twentysomething's instincts toward laziness and bad decision-making. "Star Trek" is about adults, and "Lower Decks" sees people becoming adults.
Likewise, "Star Trek: Strange New Worlds" returns to an episodic structure, allowing for miniature dramas and handily-packaged morality plays to be presented more cleanly than the broad arcs of "Discovery" or "Picard." I only wince at "Star Trek" when it violates its own principles or lazily falls into action-based stories that (perhaps unwittingly) glorify combat, war, and aggression. And make no mistake, these kinds of stories were always part of the franchise; they didn't start in 2017.
I love "Star Trek" deeply because of its radical, aggressive optimism. It envisions a world, and a form of entertainment, that downplays conflict. Drama and power can come from elsewhere. The future, "Trek" always declared, was going to be populated by nerds, miracle tech, and egalitarianism. And what's so funny about peace, love, and understanding?
War was our awkward adolescence, "Trek" said, and our adulthood is in the stars."
Witney Seibold (SlashFilm)
Link:
https://www.slashfilm.com/1582617/star-trek-changed-my-life-forever-reigns-as-greatest-sci-fi-franchise-of-all-time/

i don’t work during the office hours but live in a building where i see traffic across town and boy oh boy, it’s getting worse? am i delulu? still jammed at 10am?

So to start off, I live by myself at my new apartment. I work two jobs and was excited about my day off today. I was having special alone time with myself (If you catch my drift). I had a relaxing soak in the tub. A margarita and I even made brownies. I was pulling upa movie I’ve been wanting to watch for a while now but haven’t been able to. It had my favorite typical Wattpad-story-plot-line-that-Netflix-bought-the-rights-to written all over it. Then I got a knock at the door literally when I just passed the opening credits. I get up and ask who it is. The walls are thin enough for me to hear everything on the other side. “Hi my name is Karen!” She proceeds to tell me that my apartment is going to be available for rent at the end of the month. Confused, I tell her I have my lease for the next year and that’s not true. She says that she spoke to someone on the phone that there is an apartment up for lease in this building and the girl she was talking to said it was the apartment on the left facing the street (mine). She said she tried calling but wasn’t able to get through just now. I mean it’s past business hours so I would expect so. Karen tells me she wants to have a look inside my apartment. I say no I live here. I keep telling her this is a residence she needs to talk to the leasing office. She can’t hear me so I open my door with the chain on. She asks me why I have my chain on my door. She’s an older woman around 70 and I guess she got offended. Idk maybe because I don’t know you? She keeps asking me who is moving out. I say I don’t know. She knocks on my neighbors door and I ask her if she’s going to keep bothering people. She slams my door and calls me the b word I call her classy. She continues to knock on tenants doors for 5-10 minutes and then leaves in her beat up silver car. I email my leasing office and describe the situation. I also ask what Karen was talking about my apartment being available? Most likely she didn’t know what she was talking about and got confused with a different building. Or one of the girls that is working there that’s new gave her the wrong information. I do want to double checking to keep my mind at ease. I called my Mom and my sister telling them about the situation because it was just so odd and it’s my second time renting so I was worried that I did something wrong with my rent. I haven’t gotten any notices and online everything looks fine. I try to go back into my movie but I realize how much I hate the bad boy vs innocent girl next door movie plot because it reminds me too much of my toxic ex. I end up eating too many brownies that I made earlier now I’m typing this up too hyped up on sugar. Btw it’s 1 am and I have a shift at 6:30 am.

/ Hayes’ pov /
When Solene’s large sable orbs locked on mine, time stopped, the past five years of pain fell away. Her supple rosy lips upturned and slightly parted- the same way they had before. The same lips I fell in love with. She was beautiful, the same stand out features and subtle curves.
It felt as if gravity was pulling me closer, each step unconscious. With our toes nearly touching, every nerve ending in my body urged me to touch her, to tuck a stray strand of hair away.
“Hi.” Her voice velvety and deep, slightly hoarse.
Unsure of what to say I began to speak, “H- wh- how are you?” The future of whatever could be depended on the next few moments, and I didn’t even know where to begin.
Solene felt the same way, it was evident in her tone, “I’m well, not much has changed, I’m slightly older…” she let out a weak laugh “and Izzy is a sophomore in college. He-“.
“That’s gre-“ I began. “Sorry you go ahead.” I could feel my cheeks pinken.
“I was just going to ask if you’d like to sit and chat, I have time before my client arrives and it would be nice to talk.” Her tone was unreadable, I’d hoped she’d wanted me to say yes.
With a nod of my head, she turned on her heels; her now chin length hair fanning out slightly.
————————————————————————————— Once we reach the offices, Tracy peeks her head out of her office and smirks “Ah hello Adonis.” The comment although to me is more geared toward Solene.
“Tracy, don’t you have some art to purchase or someone else’s awkward moment to make worse.” Solene rolls her eyes, the same mischievous sparkle apparent.
With a small smile, I duck into Solene’s office. Taking in the familiar-small- space, I smile, not much has changed. Photographs of Izzy through out the years, multiple paintings from artists all over the world, and even a few of us during the time we spent together on August Moon’s tour adorn her walls.
Leaving the door open slightly Solene sits on the small love seat she added to the room, its vintage, it suits her.
Taking a seat next to her I smile. She seems to be taking me in, inspecting closely how age and life have affected me. “How are you? I saw you on Jimmy Kimmel last week, are you enjoying the solo route?”.
“It’s been a journey of loss and gain. I didn’t know that with love comes pain, until that day five years ago. The music I’ve been writing is not just about infatuation but yearning for what was.” I realize I may be rambling and pause.
“It’s nice to see you passionate about music again, the same way it was when it was just you and your guitar.” Solene’s hand touches mine tenderly, “tell me more about it?”.
“Well, when we went our separate ways I began to see the road ahead was going to be the same as before if I let it. I could keep on as the British boy who messes about and lets everyone around him make decisions for him; or I could be who I am today. I’m finally involved in the process of my music from start to fi-“ a knock on the door brings me to a stop.
“Solene, Ms. Raphel is here. I know she’s a half an hour early, would you like me to tell her you’re in meeting?” Tracy looks pained as if she’s interrupted a super secret meeting- which she has, but it’s not the end of the world.
Solene’s eyes bounce between mine and Tracy’s “Fucking artists. They’re never on time, it’s always absurdly early or laughably late.”
Deciding for the both of us I stand up, “This is important Sol, I’ll be here as long as it takes. As long as your number is still the same, I would be more than happy to schedule something.” Tracy shuts the door slowly and leaves us alone again.
“Hayes, are you sure? I can tell her I’m in a meeting, I can’t expect you to move your busy schedule around because of my client’s inability to tell time.” Solene stands and begins shuffling papers on her desk, no matter what she says I know I’ll go to the ends of the earth for her.
Standing behind her I place my hand on her shoulder “I’ll be available whenever you are. Good luck with the new client.” I walk to the door before turning back “Oh and Solene, you’re still hot or whatever.” With those parting words I open the door leaving her blinking in shock. ————————————————————————————— As I sit on the sofa of my new flat, I’m like a teen boy again. Do I dare flirt with the girl? Keep it simple? I begin typing something only to delete it until I hit send on impulse.
-Hayes- I was wondering if you’d like to get some really fucking good sandwiches sometime? —————————————————————————————
It’s been two hours since I left the gallery, fifteen since I sent the text, and five minutes since Solene has read it. Patience and tranquility are two things I am fresh out of when it comes to waiting.
-Hayes- I know you’ve read it Sol, it’ll be just lunch.
This time she replies immediately
-Solene- I don’t know Hayes… it was always just lunch.
-Hayes- I’ll behave, or try to. Pls?
Knowing she won’t be able to say no, I prematurely do a little dance.
-Solene- I’ll think about it, maybe.
-Hayes- Go easy on my poor heart Sol. One sandwich. Not even drinks. Just bread. Yes?
At this point I may as well be on my knees, she still knows how to make me work for it.
Leaving well enough alone, I decide to go for a run. The waterside park in Santa Barbara has become my refuge-aside from my music- the waves and fresh, cool air keep me grounded.
————————————————————————————— After running for an hour I look at my messages to see a simple victory but a victory nonetheless.
-Solene- Fine you win. Lunch. I could go for a good sandwich.
• A wide toothy grin spreads across my face as I stare at the message. I almost forget I’m standing in the middle of the walking path when someone clears their throat, “Are you Hayes Campbell?”. The person- a woman who appears to be in her thirties- asks me. “I saw you on Kimmel, and I must say that you’re talented as hell. I cried when I heard your new song. Can I get a picture?”.
It isn’t as often as it used to be, but I do get recognized by fans when I’m out and about. I’m currently covered in a thin sheen of sweat and quite a mess, but I wouldn’t be me if I said no. Nodding my head I allow her to get closer and pose with a peace sign. She takes two photos before stepping back. My phone dings twice before she can speak.
-Solene- Does 12 tomorrow work for you? I have nothing scheduled for tomorrow.
The woman looks over at my screen which I’m stupidly, openly looking at. “Is that ‘the’ Solene? Oh my gosh! Everyone’s going to go crazy when they find out.” She seems to have forgotten composure.
“Ah it was nice to meet you, have a good day.” I mutter out briefly before jogging away. This is just absolutely fucking great, here’s to hoping there’s a divine being who will save my arse. ———————————————————————————
Once I reach my apartment I’m exhausted and my mind is filled with all the worst case scenarios that will result from my stupidity.
-Hayes- Sure. Does my new flat work? I’d love to make you a sandwich, return the favor or whatever.
(To be continued)

For those of you who are unfamiliar with what a biogas plant is, how it works or what they're actually used for allow me to educate you. A biogas plant produces natural gas, or rather a substitute for natural gas, from fermented corn silage as well as other agricultural waste products. Farmers, such as myself, would bring in silage which we would unload into a large concrete bunker silo, basically just a big walled in pit. The plant I delivered to used a modified snowcat to push the silage around and pack it down evenly in the pit. Once one pit filled up they would tarp it and leave it to ferment and move on to the next pit. Once a pit was fully fermented they would uncover it and use a large wheel loader to shovel the fermented silage into what's called an anaerobic digester. It's basically just a big tank with an agitator that you fill up with a bunch of organic matter and heat it up which produces methane gas as the microorganisms inside begin to break everything down. This gas is then captured and can be used for basically everything natural gas is used for already but it's supposed to be better for the environment or something. These plants are way more common in Europe but they have started to pop up here in North America as well. And yes, before you ask, these places smell worse than you could possibly imagine.
I always thought it was a little bit weird that they built one way up here in Northern Alberta but since the large dairy farm I worked at pretty much always had an excess of corn silage every year, we certainly welcomed another place to sell it to especially since they're not picky. Trying to sell to another dairy farmer is always a hassle because they're always concerned with the quality, as they should be if they're feeding it to their cows, but the biogas plant basically just needs organic matter, it doesn't really matter what it is. If it can decompose you can make gas out of it.
Last fall we had an exceptionally good corn harvest to the point where we still had 4 more fields still to harvest by the time we had enough to feed the cows for the next year. As I said this isn't uncommon. When you're harvesting corn for silage you use a totally different harvester. Rather than a combine that separates out the actual corn kernels from the rest of the plant you use a forage harvester which is essentially a giant woodchipper on wheels that takes in the whole crop and shreds it up. Since corn can easily grow 10 feet high and you spread that over a few thousand acres you get a crazy high volume of silage coming in. Upon realizing how much excess we had my boss did what he always did and called up the plant who as always agreed to take in what we didn't need. The next morning rather than trucking back to the farm we were instructed to head straight over to the plant once our trailers had filled up.
I arrived with my first load at the plant around 10 am. A man wearing a high vis jacket directed me onto the large scale they used to weigh the trucks coming in and out. "Good harvest this year Jim?" The friendly old lady in the scalehouse said as she took down the weight of my loaded truck. I felt bad as I had been delivering to this plant on and off for the last 8 years I had worked on Mr. Baker's dairy farm but I couldn't remember, or I'd just never learned her name. Oh well, I certainly wasn't going to out myself now. "Well if we're delivering here you know it's a good one," I replied. "And there's plenty more where this came from." "Glad to hear it!" She smiled back at me handing me my paperwork. "Now you just head right on down to the back there and the boys will show you where to dump" "Thank you," I said taking the papers from her and putting my truck back into gear.
I pulled off the scale and made my way to the back of the plant where the big concrete pits are. Some more men in high vis gear directed me to back into a specific one. The giant pit was only about half full at the this point but the mountain of silage in my rear view mirrors still looked to be about 30 feet deep at its highest point. As usual they had me back up until my trailer started to climb the pile a bit. this way there were no gaps in the pile and the snowcat wouldn't have to do as much pushing. As I watched the back wheels of my trailer roll on to the silage pile in my mirrors I heard the unmistakable sound of a tire blowing out. A loud pop and then a slow hiss that quickly dissipated. "Shit!" I thought to myself as I hopped out to inspect the damage. One of the workers had also come to see what had happened.
"Must be one of your inside tires" he said to me as I approached, "all the outside ones look fine." I bent down and looked under the truck, sure enough he was right. The inside tire on the right side of the rear axle was completely flat. "Well I suppose that's why semi trucks have dual wheels," I said trying to sound unfazed while simultaneously preparing myself for the ass chewing I was bound to receive for this later. I walked around to the back of the truck to inspect the damage further and saw what had punctured my tire. I stumbled back a bit as I realized it was what appeared to be a broken bone sticking out of the tire. "What the..." I said mostly to myself but the worker must've heard too as it caused him to look down at it as well. When he did his face went white for a second then he composed himself. "Well I'll be damned," he said, "I've been here since the plant opened and I ain't never seen that before, some uh, poor animal must've gone through the forage harvester, or uh, some farmer's dog must've dug it up and dropped it in their silo." He seemed real shifty as he said this and almost seemed like he was trying to convince himself of what he was saying but I brushed it off as I figured he was probably just as shocked as I was.
While I was still able to unload I did have to leave the truck and trailer at the plant that night. A mobile tire repair service would be out in the morning to get it all fixed up. I got a ride back to the farm with our next truck to arrive at the plant and finished out the day pressure washing the manure spreaders. No doubt a reward for my efforts that day. I had to take a good long shower at the farm office before getting in my truck to head home for the night. As I started the engine I went to pull my phone out of my pocket to plug it in to the charger and realized that I didn't have it. I padded all my other pockets, nope definitely not there. I then realized that I had likely left it in the semi which was now at the plant, probably locked behind a gate for the night. Logically I could have just waited till morning to go and retrieve it. I was probably just going to go straight to bed when I got home anyway so what did I need my phone for? But because humans now have separation anxiety from their phones burned into them at age 3 I found myself pulling out on to the road in the direction of the plant rather than home. I hoped there would be some friendly night security guard that would let me in to grab it and I'd be on my way in 5 minutes.
I reached the plant just as it was getting dark and indeed there was a security guard standing at the gate as I pulled up. A very heavily armed security guard. He had what looked like a military rifle slung over his back and I wondered what on earth he needed that for. They were very illegal for civilians to own here in the great white north so they must've had a damn good reason to arm their security like this for the government to let them do it. He looked rather intimidating but surprisingly was not at all antagonistic when I rolled down my window. "Are you lost partner?" He said in a rather friendly tone. "No, no, I work for one of the farms that delivers here," I said, "My truck blew a tire on the trailer earlier today and it's still sitting over by pit 3 and I think I left my phone in the cab, do you mind if I go check?" He gave me a suspicious look, then he peered into the pickup bed and generally looked over me and my truck, then he gazed off down the road and looked at his watch. "Alright you got 10 minutes, and try and stay out of the night shift's way" he said in a much less friendly tone.
A loud click and then a buzzing sound came from the gate as it began to move and I drove through it. By now it was almost completely dark but the large spotlights of the plant made it easy to navigate. I came around the corner and saw my truck still sitting across from pit 3 and I pulled up in front of it. As I got out I noticed that there was a large excavator up on top of the pile in pit 4. I knew it was digging into the silage but I couldn't really see what it was doing properly because the concrete wall that separated pits 3 and 4 partially obscured it. I could also see the roof of the snowcat peeking up over the wall. It must've been parked a little ways away on top of the pile and I figured it must've gotten stuck and they were using the excavator to try and get it out. I paid it little attention as I entered the cab of the semi truck and quickly found my phone in the cupholder. I grabbed it and just as I was climbing down a voice called out to me.
"Hey who the fuck are you?? And what are you doing here???" A disgruntled looking worker wearing the same high vis gear was running towards me. "I just left my phone in this truck here, the security guard let me in to grab it" I stammered backing up towards my pickup. "Of course he fucking did" the man grumbled and he snatched his radio out of his jacket pocket. "Peter what the hell did you let this dumbass in here for you can't be doing that!" He shouted into the radio. "Relax they're not even here yet" the guard's voice crackled through the radio. "Umm actually I see headlights if he's got his phone tell him to get out of there." The man looked back to me. "You heard him son get lost and don't come back here after delivery hours again you got it?" I nodded and climbed back into my pickup truck and began to drive back towards the gate. As I exited the guard waved to me from behind the big black GMC Yukon that had pulled up to the gate. He appeared to be talking to the driver. There was a large U-Haul truck behind it followed by another black Yukon. As I passed the last vehicle I noticed in my rear view mirror the 3 trucks enter the plant ad the guard shutting the gate behind them.
That whole situation did not sit right with me. On the drive home I contemplated everything that I had seen and heard from the guard and the other worker. They were up to something in that plant at night that maybe even the bosses didn't know about. My best guess was it was some kind of drug operation. If movies have taught me anything drug kingpins always drive black SUVs. I know I should have left it alone but life up here in Northern Alberta was so boring my curiosity ended up getting the better of me. I thought that I could help bring down some kind of criminal organization and be a local hero, and that worst case scenario nothing was happening and nothing would come of it.
After harvest concluded I had a couple of days off to rest as we'd been working pretty crazy hours lately. I however did not rest. I was trying to find out everything I could about the plant and the people who ran it. I really couldn't find anything about it, in fact it was as if the place didn't exist. You would think there would at least be a news story from when they built the place what with it being the biggest boost to the local economy and job market our town had ever seen and all but there was nothing. Finally I decided the only thing to do was to see if I could observe what those black SUVs and the U-Haul truck were doing in the plant at night. Maybe get some photos of the exchange and hand them off to the police. I did some poking around on Google maps and found an old logging road that ran across the ridge behind the plant. There was a little dirt area where people often parked to unload their ATVs to go riding in the woods up there that was maybe only a kilometre or so from the north side of the plant.
I drove up there just before dark and hiked down through the woods all the way to the north fence of the plant. It was just a chain link fence like you'd see around a schoolyard not a barbed wire prison fence or anything so I made quick work of climbing over it. Luckily for me there was a lot of equipment and old dumpsters and shipping containers in this part of the plant for me to hide behind as I made my way towards where the main gate was. I crouched down behind one of their company trucks parked near the gate and waited about 20 minute before I saw the black SUVs pull up. This time though they didn't have a U-Haul they had a much larger yellow Penske box truck. They must be hauling some serious product to be renting that thing. I watched as the trucks rolled through the gate and much like they had done with me a few days prior the plant workers in high vis gear directed them back towards the pits.
I began to sneak my way over there being careful to stay out of sight. I realized very quickly that I wouldn't be able to get very close while still remaining hidden. The area around the pits was largely wide open to allow to turn around and back in so there was nothing to conceal me as I approached. I noticed the office nearby and had an idea. I snuck over to it and tried the door. It was open but the lights were off inside. Luckily no alarms went off and I found what I came for quickly. A high vis uniform and a white hard hat laying on the break room table. I also grabbed some safety glasses and a dust mask as it wasn't uncommon for the workers to wear them, there was a lot of dust around the pits, and I figured it would help conceal my identity.
After putting on the uniform and sneaking back outside I observed the workers for a few minutes to see what they were doing and how best to blend in. Most of them appeared to either be standing around watching the trucks pull up or walking somewhere so I figured just walking like I was on a mission was good enough. Turns out I didn't need to fake it for long. As I neared the yellow Penske truck I saw some men getting out of the black SUVs. They were dressed in what looked like church robes but definitely not Catholic since they didn't have the collar. One of them turned to me and I froze. "Hey buddy, we got a pretty big load tonight, mind giving us a hand?" Realizing my cover was working I decided to play along and just leave the part about me helping the drug lords out of my statement to the police. I nodded and walked over with the other workers and awaited instructions.
I heard the sound of a diesel engine coming closer and looked over to see the excavator I had seen coming around the corner and begin to climb the silage pile in pit 4 again. The snowcat was behind it but instead of following the excavator up the pile it came towards us. It had some kind of large metal box attached to the blade that was about the size of a small car. The operator set the box down next to the Penske truck and hopped out. The same disgruntled man I had encountered the other night got out of the cab. "Jesus man, that's a big truck you got there, probably gonna take a couple trips to unload this thing," he said to the men in robes. One of them opened up the back of the box truck and where I expected to see a giant pile of cocaine bricks or something there was something I never expected.
Bodies, and lots of them just thrown haphazardly into the back of this truck. I had to fight the urge to fill my dust mask with vomit as I saw them. The workers began loading them into the box on the blade of the snowcat just tossing them on with little regard for how they landed. No one seemed to notice me just standing there so I slowly backed up into the shadows and made my way over to pit 3. It was almost full by now so I climbed up the pile to a spot where I could look over the concrete wall into pit 4 where the excavator was without being spotted. Once up there I saw the snowcat climbing up the pile towards a large hole the excavator had dug in it. There were some more workers up there who began throwing the bodies off into the hole as one of the men in robes climbed out of the passenger seat in the snowcat. He just stood on the track watching as the bodies were piled into this impromptu mass grave they had constructed. He stayed up on the pile while the snowcat went down for the second load.
This was all starting to make sense now. This was the perfect cover for disposing of bodies. They would get broken down in the piles same as everything else and because they were constantly being emptied into the digester the evidence would only be around for a few months, and the horrific smell of the plant would conceal any foul odours produced by the dead bodies. But there was one question left. Where were they coming from? This was way too many bodies for this to be the mafia or something killing off problematic individuals. By the time the truck was totally unloaded there must've been 100 dead people in that hole. No this had to be some cult activities of some sort and the robes the men from the black SUVs were wearing backed up that theory. Maybe these were just what was left over from some sort of ritual sacrifice or something? Whoever these people are they must have some kind of deal with the plant's owners because I could tell the workers had done this before. From the time the truck had arrived to the time the excavator started burying the corpses in rotting corn silage it had only taken about half an hour.
I didn't even bother ditching the uniform I got out of that plant as fast as I could. I sprinted up through those woods back towards my truck with my heart beating so fast I thought it would explode. As soon as I was in the truck I locked all the doors and dialed 911 on speaker as I peeled out of the forest. I told the operator everything that had happened over the last couple of days and what I had seen that night. I practically begged them to send someone there right away which the nice lady on the other end of the line promised they would. She asked for my name and contact information so they could get a hold of me for a statement which I gladly gave them. She assured me they would investigate the matter and I thanked her and hung up the phone. I then pulled over and got out of the truck and proceeded to finally let out all the vomit I had been holding in for the last hour or so. I ditched the plant uniform on the side of that old forest road and made my way for home.
As I was approaching my house I saw a car up ahead. As I drew closer I could make out the distinctive reflective tape they put across the back of police cars. I slowed down as I had come up on him pretty fast and I didn't want to get a speeding ticket after all I'd been through that night. I followed the cop a few more kilometres towards town. My house was on this road coming up shortly. As we approached my driveway the cop put his signal on to turn in. I breathed a sigh of relief as I guessed they had sent someone out to check on me and I was about to put my signal on as well when I noticed the black GMC Yukon parked in my driveway and the man in robes standing next to it with a gun. The cop turned in and parked next to him. Given that the cop had basically zero reaction to the man standing there with a weapon my heart sank as I realized whatever this is runs much, muh deeper than I thought and revealing who I was to that 911 dispatcher had just dommed me. I kept on driving praying that neither of them recognized me and thanking the Alberta government for not requiring front license plates that the cop would have totally seen on the drive over otherwise.
I just kept on driving, expecting at any minute to see police lights behind me or a big black SUV blocking the road ahead of me and men in dark robes coming out of the darkness to get me, but nothing happened. I don;t even know how long I drove for I just drove until I had to pee so badly I was forced to stop at a truck stop and realized I was somewhere in Saskatchewan. I've been on the run so to speak now for about 6 months. I don't know if anyone's even following me but I have to be sure. I'm writing this all out to get it off my chest and out there as a warning before I ditch this phone and start my life over in another province as far away from there as I can get. I don't know what's going on up there but there is something very dark happening in northern Alberta and I've probably only scratched the surface of it. Either way I want no part of any of it.