Edit: We are still in the process of applying for an easement. But now the woman has taken it upon herself to put in POSTS! Can you believe it! She’s actually erected posts to stop us from accessing our field! I’ll try a link pictures. Posts installed
Apologies this could be a long one. I am in England.
A field that has been owned maintained and used by my family since my Grandfather purchased it back in the 80s is having its entry blocked by a neighbour who is parking her car across the access.
We live around 20 miles from the field and only use it maybe once a year in the summer to play cricket and remember my late grandfather and grandmother who used the field every day to walk their dogs around. It was very special to them. We also get the hay bailed once a year meaning a baler has to access it via the gate.
One day last year as we were leaving the field a very rude woman came over insisting we could not use that road to access our own field, she then went on to tell us exactly what we’d been doing in our field (playing cricket and having some food) and how that annoyed her? So she’d been spying on us as well?? Me and my father told her in no uncertain terms to pop off. We thought that would be the end of it. Now she’s taken it upon herself to block the access to the road connected to our field with her car. She is in her 60s and retired so it’s there pretty much permanently, if it’s not there her early 20s son’s car is there. The police do not want anything to do with the matter.
The access to the field is down a strip of what I can only describe as public footpath (wide enough to get a tractor down) with a bollard at one end but not the other (presumably to stop cars using it as a shortcut but to also let people access their land).
The road in question is labelled as a ‘road’ on Google maps, but it isn’t tarmac like a road more gravelled like a cycle path. The side of the road she’s blocking has a sign that says ‘Private Road’ however it hasn’t always been, that’s a new development and I’m unsure as to how I can find the implications of that if it is a legitimate private road.
What can we do about this woman? I don’t know why she’s so adamant we can’t access our own field once a year. It’s really making my parents lives difficult for no apparent reason.

I couldn’t figure out how to update the original post so I just put my update as a comment on the post but not sure how many people could see that so I decided just to make a separate post entirely for everyone who was interested in the outcome to make sure they could see it!
Edit to clarify: I don’t yet know the actual results of AP’s investigation just what they were suspecting the cause was at the beginning of the investigation based on previous incidents.
Our AP thinks it’s one of our cleaning crew (KBS) members who thinks that anything on the floor of the bailer aisle near the compactor is something that they need to throw out and they dump it into the compactor when they come back with their black bin full of trash from around the sales floor, because they’ve caught them throwing out IFUR (baby bulk/car seats) before on the camera footage that were left next to the baby bulk flat because we ran out of room at the end of the unload for them.
(During the overnight unload we use the baler wall as our bulk flat unload spot and the baby bulk flat is always last by the compactobaler). And our receiver typically has to let them into the compactor in the morning but sometimes is busy checking in a vendor and doesn’t notice what they did when they go back to lock the door up behind them. Now they’re going to have to be watched like a hawk taking care of anything at the compactor to make sure they don’t do that anymore!

The Clarkson review: Isuzu D-Max — the pick-up with a kitchen in the boot
By Jeremy Clarkson (The Sunday Times, 29 October 2023)
If you’re umming and ahing about the wisdom of buying a pick-up truck, you need to ask yourself a question. What is in the boot of your car right now? I’m guessing not much. A jumper perhaps and maybe an old newspaper covered in weird stains. So there’s your answer. You don’t need a pick-up truck.
Things are different of course in the rural, red bits of America, where people routinely drive around with six bags of mulch, a leaf blower, a snowmobile, a chainsaw, three or four attack dogs, a crate of beer, six deckchairs and a semi-automatic rifle. That’s why they need a pick-up truck. And it’s the same story in South Africa, only with a different accent and more rifles. And Australia.
People in those countries who live in the sticks need to have half a dozen fence posts to hand at all times and a device for planting them in the ground. This is because they will crash off the road a lot and need the wherewithal to mend whatever they broke. It’s all check shirts and Budweiser and oily baseball caps and there’s no time at all for hanging ferns and Perrier water.
Things are different in England because by and large there are no sticks. You’re never more than seven miles from a shop where you can grind your own potpourri and roll your own oats. And all your friends live in houses that are adjacent to a road, not at the far end of an 18-hour cross-country drive over ground that’s festooned with snakes and spiders so big you can tell whether they’re sad.
This is why the pick-up truck was never really a thing in the UK. That and the fact that we are European, so we are, what’s the word? Civilised. We don’t want to be bounced around in what PJ O’Rourke described as a beer-guided back porch. We prefer Volkswagen Golfs.
Sure, there were people here who needed pick-ups for work. But we never saw them because they lived in the forest, driving Subarus made from corrugated iron that could be bought only from agricultural shops. Or old Land Rovers held together, like their owners’ trousers, with baler twine. No normal person would want such a thing.
But then everything changed. Subaru started making normal cars and Land Rover decided its Defender should be for the town. This meant the nation’s country people were rather stuck. And to solve the problem, they all, to a man, alighted on the Mitsubishi L200. Every single farmer I know has one. Except Kaleb, who has two.
I can see why they liked it. It was reliable and well priced and capable of carrying a bull in the back while towing two more in a trailer behind. But most of all it was simpleness with added simplicity. A spoon has more moving parts.
Now, though, Mitsubishi no longer operates in the UK, so once again our gnarled friends in the hills are casting around for a replacement. And that’s a problem because there isn’t one. Not really. And there’s a good reason for that. The people who need pick-up trucks in this country to ferry around their dogs, and the bag to carry their arm after they’ve cut it off by mistake, want something cheap. No nonsense. No frills. But vehicles like this are extremely unprofitable for the carmakers. They want customers to buy Apple CarPlay and cruise control and electric tailgates because that’s where the profits live. In the options list.
Solution? Easy. Make pick-up trucks appeal to ordinary folk as they do in America. Give them four seats, leather upholstery, sat-nav, air conditioning and hot and cold running electric seats. And that’s exactly what Nissan, Volkswagen and Mercedes did a few years ago. And it didn’t work because it turned out that normal people in the UK don’t need a car that’s impossible to park and bouncy as hell when all they need to carry around is a jumper and a stained newspaper. So now their offerings are all gone.
Ford is soldiering on with its Ranger and making it appealing with clever financing. But Isuzu has gone down another route and ended up with the D-Max you see here. It started out in life as a barely profitable farmer special, but then along came an Icelandic outfit, Arctic Trucks, whose work I know well. They prepared the Toyota Hilux that took James May and me to the North Pole. They know that what people want is a Tonka-toy look, and what that means is big wheels. Really big. And that’s what this D-Max has. The “35” in its name is the size, in inches for God’s sake, of its tyres.
To get them to fit, the chassis had to be lifted and altered, so now you can pretty much drive over St Paul’s Cathedral and not hit the cross. And the standard suspension was replaced with a Bilstein set-up. Not that it has much to do as those enormous tyres absorb everything. You could run over a brick in this car and simply not know it.
Next up, an Australian he-man outback company called ARB — this must be the most international car ever — was called upon to fit a fully equipped kitchen unit that slides out of the load bed. And on the roof is a tent. (This and the kitchen are optional and cost an extra £6,000 including VAT.)
So that’s excellent. Isuzu flogs a few of these high-profit-margin Tonka toys with a house on the roof — along with Apple CarPlay, sat-nav, air con and the ability to carry more than a tonne in the back while towing 3.5 tonnes behind — and that enables it to keep on importing poverty-spec models for farmers and forestry peeps.
Just two problems. The 35 is fitted with a beep for everything. It beeps when you reach a new speed limit. It beeps when you’re going backwards. It beeps when you are breathing in and it beeps when you are breathing out. It drove me mad after less than a mile.
But what drove me even more mad was the 1.9-litre engine. You read that right. This leviathan has fewer cubes than a Golf. And rattly, diesely, gutless cubes at that. Plus, first gear is so short you need to shift to second about a yard after you start moving. I’m told the automatic version is better but that’s so slow, 0 to 60 is barely possible.
There is some comfort. Toyota can sell you an Arctic Trucks-modified Hilux that has an actual engine with actual power.
So there we are, a whole piece on pick-up trucks without once mentioning how they are now nothing more than machinegun- mounting points with wheels. I must be getting old.
Specifications
Engine: 1898cc, 4 cylinders, diesel
Power: 162bhp@ 3600rpm
Torque: 266 lb ft @ 2000rpm
Acceleration: 0-62mph: 12.7sec
Top speed: 112mph
Fuel: 33.6mpg
CO2: 220g/km
Weight: 2,543kg
Price: £58,760 (plus £6,000 for tent and kitchen)
Release date: On sale now
Jeremy's rating: 3 out of 5 stars
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Life at a top health farm: sweat, awful sleep and celery juice
By Jeremy Clarkson (The Sunday Times, 29 October 2023)
Here’s a tip. If your wife or girlfriend says you’ve been working very hard and that you need a break in a luxury hotel, don’t just nod and go. Check the details. Because if you don’t, you could very easily end up, as I did all last week, in a bloody health resort.
Set in spectacular countryside on the banks of a beautiful river, it looked like a hotel. There was a pool, a gym, lots of places to chill out and relax and even some pickleball courts. I was very happy. And I remained very happy until I discovered that while there was a communal dining room, there was no actual kitchen. I’d be living for seven whole days on nothing but the juice from vegetables.
That was bad enough, but then I discovered there was also no bar. That made my teeth itch with worry because, to me, not drinking is like doing a handstand. It’s technically possible for a little while but a week?
The main problem is sleep. If you go to bed with a clear head, your mind is active, so it chews stuff over and works things out. This means you don’t fall asleep till two. Which means you don’t wake up till nine. And because you didn’t wake up till nine, you won’t fall asleep the following night till three. Not drinking then gives you slow-motion jet lag.
None of my fellow inmates seemed to mind though. They were almost exclusively the sort of ladies you see on Henman Hill, or at a performance of Mamma Mia!, or clapping along to the music at the Horse of the Year Show. It was like being in a hotel with 50 facsimiles of my dear mother.
They were there, it seems, to reset themselves. But to when? The last time I was fit and thin, I was 11 years old and I’m not sure a week of vegetable juice would get me back that far. Although the swimming pool was so cold, it might have made a decent fist of getting my testicles back to where they were in 1971.
It’s strange waking up in the morning knowing that there’s no breakfast. Not even a cup of coffee. Instead, I was given a glass of something called wheatgrass. Now I’ve eaten grasshoppers and tarantulas and I once had a seven-day egg which had bit of beak and an eye in it. All of those things were pretty awful. But nothing, nothing gets close to the gut-retching dreadfulness of wheatgrass.
The day wore on and soon I wanted a drink. And then I wanted lunch. So I repaired to the communal dining room — the worst three words in the English language — where the Henman Hill ladies were busy reminiscing about Sanyo Music Centres. And I was given a beaker of celery juice. Which wasn’t a drink. Or lunch.
Afterwards, I read my book, and glowered at Lisa as she gaily jogged from the sauna to the yoga lesson where, apparently, they were teaching the ladies about the art of “self-love”. As I already know how to do that, I decided to spend some time in a large warm pool in a room full of dim lighting and whale song.
Apparently, the water is enriched with salts and revitalising minerals and all sorts of other words from the stupider parts of the internet. And it was very nice, apart from one thing. It was like the Dead Sea in there and, as a result, I couldn’t sink.
If I tried sitting down on one of the tiled underwater benches, I sort of floated upwards and then rolled over. And if I tried lying down, my buttocks felt like they were full of helium, which made my head sink. And so, in a desperate bid to not drown, I ended up looking like Sandra Bullock in Gravity. Endlessly swivelling round and grabbing on to stuff that was always just out of reach.
After this unrelaxing experience, there was still no food or drink and Lisa was having a tube pushed up her bottom, for fun, so I thought I’d try the walking machine, or running machine as some people call it. And while travelling up an incline of three degrees at a brisk 7km/ph, my trousers fell down. Later, one of the Henman Hill ladies asked why I hadn’t simply jumped onto the side bars which is what you’re supposed to do apparently. But you can’t when your feet are tied together by your own strides.
Nor, due to all the sweat in my eyes, could I see which of the 25 buttons on the controls would make the damn thing stop. In the end, I shot off the back of the conveyor belt and fell over. I have vowed never to go on a walking machine again. I have also vowed to steer clear of health farms.
I have deliberately not named the establishment that provided all this misery, or even said where it is because that would be unfair. Yes, I’d rather spend a week with Greta Thunberg at a kumbaya peace and love festival but several of the Abba fans staying there were on their fifth or sixth visit and all of them plainly loved every minute. Swimming naked in the river. Making new friends. And shedding a few pounds.
If you’re into communal dining and bouncing up and down all day long, it’s great. The staff are wonderful, and the guy who runs it is funny, engaging and plainly a brilliant businessman. Because let’s face it, he’s charging top dollar to stay in his hotel and he doesn’t have to waste any of that income on bar staff or chefs.
It was all lost on me though. In fact, by Thursday, I was so miserable that I elected to go into hospital and have an operation. I was planning to have this procedure done when I got home but it seemed more sensible to get it out of the way on Lisa’s well-deserved break. And as I lay there, under the surgeon’s knife, I couldn’t help thinking: “This is better”.
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NOTE: He did not write a column in The Sun this week (I hope he's feeling better, by the way!). Clarkson's columns are regularly collected as books. You can buy them from his boss or your local bookshop.

TLDR: nasa ilalim lang pala ng upuan ang DL ko
I've been very organized when it comes to my car and IDs but there was this one time I was sooo stressed and tired that I lost my DL. What happened was I had my internet disconnected and they needed a government ID, I only had my DL that time and that was the last time I remembered holding it. i looked everywhere, backtracked, had my car detailed and whatnot but alas it was gone.
It has been a source of stress and anxiety, I know there is a copy of it on the LTO portal but losing my license means I have to waste a day possibly two just to get a new one. And I was committed to driving my GF to baler for her BDay, I had to drive within speed limit and be as nice as I can to other people on the road. Not that I was an aggressive driver pero grabe ang pressure kapag wala kang license.
So eto nagpacarwash ako, nothing unsual just a normal wash and vacuum at doon lumitaw ang DL ko. Nakita daw ng vacuum guy sa ilalim ng upuan, im like WTF after like several washes, detailing, and me personally vacuuming under the seat ngayon lang nakita??? I asked no further questions, nag tip ako ng malaki and went on my way. I'm glad to have my license again, felt like a huge thorn has been removed from my side.

Well when it came to hunter Sabine Celner was superior she is through now into the next round
Location: Oakvale shopping mall this shopping mall once a proud beacon of commerce now stands empty and deserted two vehicles are now ready to turn the lower floors into a battle arena they are
Vehicle name: Wraith
Vehicle: Pitch Black Citroen Karin concept car
Special weapon: Ballistic Shield (Any time projectiles are fired at the vehicle, the kinetic energy from said projectile gets absorbed into the shield making it stronger for a short while. Any excess energy that surpasses the shield's hold limit can be forced back into the surrounding area back at the attacker)
Standard weapon are rapid firing railguns mounted on both sides of the vehicle.
Drive Drivers: ADUX-6E22I (Autonomous Driver Unit eXperimental)
Backstory: Wraith's story is not of groundbreaking scientific achievement or malevolent artificial intelligence, but of tragedy. Decades ago, Wraith started and ended life as a baby that died 2 hours after being born. The parents of Wraith decided to donate their deceased child's organs to other infants so that they might not face the same fate as theirs. However, the brain was given to a group of scientists for medical research. By some miracle, they were able to revive the brain and have it develop into adulthood over time. Using the brain and its waves/patterns, they opted to use it in experiments with one of them being learning, calculating, and even driving, all tasks in which it passed with flying colors.
However, Wraith was able to tap into the scientist's logs via computer and was horrified on its origin. Feeling used and saddened that it was once a living person drove the unit to the point of deactivation, refusing to awaken. The scientists decided to cut their losses and continue experiments on other brains before placing Wraith in storage. Years later, Wraith would awaken from its slumber and travel around the world, attempting to find peace within itself. After hearing about the Carmageddon contest, it decided to participate in hopes of finding a way to experience the human life it was denied all those years ago.
Design: The brain is placed in an armored "jar" connected to the cabin controls of the car. This allows it to drive and operate weapons simultaneously without issue.
What they want their world to be like: To be free of their mechanical body and be sent to an alternate universe where they survived as a child and lived a normal life as a human being.
Vehicle name: Black Narwhal
Vehicle: 1985 Ford Bronco
Special weapon: Horn Buster. A pintle-mounted three-pronged harpoon with a tow chain attached for retrieval. The weapon itself uses a magnetic rail system powered by dual capacitors charged from the alternator. When fired, the harpoon reaches speeds in excess of 300 miles per hour, but its range is limited by the tow chain.
Drive Drivers: Francis Delacroix
Drive Drivers backstory Francis Delacroix turned 19 three days ago. The last clear memory he has of that day is his school on fire. Though to be fair, his school likely brought at least some of that fire on itself. Francis was one of the best students at the St. Petersburg Academy for the Advanced, a school devoted to the sciences. What Francis--and most of the students--didn't know about the Academy was that it was a front for the Russian Mob, who was eager to take advantage of the students' discoveries.
Francis distinguished himself quickly as a mechanical engineer, with a particular specialty in improvisation and using random junk to build his devices. At the age of six, on his family farm, he used parts from a broken microwave, an old hay baler, and 37 cents in change--a quarter, a nickel, and seven pre-1982 copper pennies--to build what he called an "induction oven." It cooked a chicken from "frozen solid" to "just a little dry" in 13 minutes.
Francis spent most of his adolescence at the Academy, until two days before his 19th birthday, when he was expelled due to his part in a tragic accident involving a hovercraft. This would have been a much bigger problem for Francis in particular, had the school not closed two days later after a rival crime family used its connections in the Russian Air Force to bomb the Academy into moderately radioactive rubble. Among those who perished in the bombing were all of Francis' oldest friends, and his first love, Katya Romanov.
Francis spent the next three days walking west, until he managed to cross into West Germany and return to his family farm. He walked into the barn, where his father's old Ford Bronco was kept, and began to retool it. He'd heard about Carmageddon, and the wish that came with it.
What they want their world to be like: Francis has one wish he means to have fulfilled via a win at Carmageddon. He wants a book. A book, bound in kangaroo leather, with pages measuring 8" x 12". The book should be written in standard English appropriate to the time, readable, legible, and understandable. If the book is ever lost or stolen, it should return to Francis the next morning, underneath his head.
The book's pages are blank. Until Francis asks the book a question. Then, the book provides the answer. With such a manual, the laws of physics themselves would be Francis' to break. Not to mention the location of the miserable bastards who stole his childhood out from under him by blowing up his school. And his Katya. Francis knows better than to try and bring her back from the dead. But he can at least spread the misery around.
View Poll

I know, naming things is hard, I run dnd and still end up calling everyone Albert lol. There's also a lot of frustration from people seeing the posts asking for names, and instead of just another complaint post, I thought I'd try give some helpful advice, and also maybe flex a bit of my dnd muscles in coming up with narratives. (Small note, can't figure out how to do markup on mobile so apologies for terrible formatting, if this post does well I'll make it more flashy tomorrow) Now mildly more flashy!
​
United Colonies ships
For UC ships, I like to name them after medieval armour pieces. To me it fits with the theme of them defending the universe. They're also all prefixed with "UCS" (United colonies ship) but that can be omitted if it feels out of place. It's been pointed out that there UC ships in game are just prefixed with "UC", and there's a "UCS" ship that exists that I forgot about, so I'll be swapping to that for the suggestions, but again can be ommited. Just Google some medieval armour pieces, and pic one you like!
Someone suggested using old real-world spacecraft names, and I realised running out of armour pieces can be a thing, so would make sense to use those, perhaps naval ships, and someone else suggested naming after submarines as well!
Examples:
Capital Ships

• UC Brigandine
• UC Hauberk
• UC Faulds

Frigates

• UC Pauldron
• UC Vambrace

Fighters

• UC Gaultlet
• UC Sallet

​
Freestar Collective
Freestar members are generally roughing it in the wilds, farmers, hunters, miners etc. So I like to name the ships after animals (earth and alien), farming tools, geological features and the such, making it easy to Google these things. I also like the idea that they keep this identity, but are registered under the freestar collective with a designation. I opted for base 36 (all letters of the alphabet + digits 0-9), because I also like mathy stuff lol, but again can be omitted.
Examples:
Capital Ships

• FC-H9 Rhinoceros
• FC-FQ Ventifact
• FC-4V Combine

Frigates

• FC-U8 Ashta
• FC-2E Fjord
• FC-BZ Baler

Fighters

• FC-53 Peregrine
• FC-7D Arete
• FC-AA Trowel

​
Ecliptic
Ecliptic tend to have ships named after melee weapons I've noticed, and that matches their "shoot first collect credits later" mentality and coinsides with their brutality, so I like to continue that theme. They all prefix with "Ecliptic", but I don't like that so it's up to you!
Examples:
Capital Ships

• Warhammer
• Greataxe

Frigates

• Scimitar
• Falchion

Fighters

• Kerambit
• Billy Club

Crimson Fleet The Crimson Fleet ships you see in game are named after ethereal undead it seems, which aligns with the fearmongering they go for so I stick with that too. I like to extend it beyond that to other undead and fear inducing mythological creatures. Similar to Ecliptic they've prefixed "Crimson Fleet" but I dislike that so I like to omit it.
Examples:
Capital Ships

• Lich King
• Poltergeist
• Cerberus

Frigates

• Ghast
• Chimera
• Draugr

Fighters

• Wisp
• Chupacabra
• Ghoul

​
Va'Ruun Ships
The Va'ruun seem to name their ships after religious doctorine, rituals, terminology etc. Words that mean sadness, or hostility I find fits in with their theme as well. Someone else suggested using the scientific names of snakes and other reptiles which I think aligns as well! All these things are easily googlable. Again they're generally prefixed Va'ruun, I think it's more acceptable here for some reason, so I will be including it, but again, omit where you feel it unnecessary.
Examples:
Capital Ships

• Va'Ruun Exorcism
• Va'Ruun Covenant
• Va'Ruun Anomochilus

Frigates

• Va'Ruun Krait
• Va'Ruun Lement
• Va'Ruun Emnity

Fighters

• Va'Ruun Rite
• Va'Ruun Boiga
• Va'Ruun Sin

​
Independent ships
For a more independent ship names, I like to consider something a character might find sentimental, or a place that might be important to them, and then name the ship after that. If you consider someone who's SO passed away they might name their ship after them, or a possession that means a lot to them, where they used to hang out as a child, or a concept that has a lot of emotional weight for them.
Examples:

• The Well's Revenge
• The Northern Lights
• Juliette's Locket
• Decaprio III
• Father's Rifle

It can additionally be helpful to consider a key feature of the ship, and focus on that.

• Do you have two long arms either side with a gap in the middle? Consider something with the number 2, Duel, Bi-, Twin, etc.
• Is it sleek looking? Gonsider naming it after a model of car that similarly sleek.
• Does it have a purpose as a ship? Like hauling specific cargo, or building space stations? Name it something obvious like "[material] Hauler" or "Construction Drone".

I hope this at least helps people getting some bein juices flowing, and hopefully cuts down on the name suggestion posts. For those that are good at naming ships, drop your conventions below! Let's make this as supportive as possible!
Edit: formatting and some updates based on suggestions

10 Oct Update: U2 update

29 Sep, Fri - Mid Autumn Festival 中秋节

• MAN WITH A MISSION (j-rock), Capitol Theatre City Hall, $88
• LOVE 972双庆生年度音乐剧 - 29争精彩, day 1, mediacorp theatre one-north, $58
• Choppa Experimental Music: Day 2 - Antiwira, Orra, Mingzxc X pandamachine, andy+natalie+christoven, Laselle College of the Arts, RSVP
• SUBPLOT SYSTEMS: VOLUME 3 (with ANTIWIRA) ft. DREAMKILLER,N3B,AKEN, TURBO BOYFRIEND, experimental, electronic noise gig, Projector X No Spoilers Bar @ Cineleisure Orchard, $25
• Esplanade: Under the Moonlight: A Dialogue Between the Gayageum and Tabla, free
• Esplanade: Michael Pignéguy & The Awakenings Ensemble - Tales from the Orient (persian, jazz), outdoor, free
• Lin Hengyue and Wang Ji - Ballerinas: Piano Duo Concert, ESPLANADE, $30 soldout
• SCO: Ancient Moon, Present Light 古月照今城, singapore chinese orchestra, Singapore Conference Hall @ 7 Shenton Way, $20
• SSO: Mischa Maisky x Han-Na Chang (plays wagner, saint-saens, mozart), singapore symphony orchestra gala - DAY 1, Victoria Concert Hall, $25
• Lunchtime Concert at Temasek Shophouse, Temasek Shophouse Dhoby Ghaut, free
• Jazz Loft: Joe Rosenberg Ensemble, Blu Jaz L3 @ bali ln (bugis), $24
• Cool Cats Jazz: Buenos Dias Brothers: The Sounds of Peru + DJ Set, Day 2 nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $38
• Maduro Jazz: Swing Time! Songs from the Golden Age of Cinema by Amanda Lee & Siti Iman, maduro @ sofitel sentosa, $38++ drink credits
• Anime Event: World X Fest Japan 2023 Anime x JPop x Matsuri - ft. Anisong singers Akko Gorilla, Daimon Yayoi Yuka Takada, Sarah, , Day 1 Clarke Quay Central Mall, free

 

• DJ?, Intervention pres. INTERVENTION, Queer-tai, arty queer drag party karoke rave, NTU Centre for Contemporary Art Singapore @ Gillman Barracks (labrador park), free
• DJ, Club Kiki pres. Purrr! A Doja Cat Tribute - ft The Professor, Dat Abbygyal (queer friendly), the back room of Lion Brewery Co @36 Club Street, $15
• DJ, Flashback Friday by UnfilteredPresents - Haus of Gaga, hard rock cafe orchard cuscaden, $30
• DJ, CULTURE Presents Back 2 Two Thousands (00s hits), club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk, $30
• DJ, RINGTONE Celestial Beings - ft Cayenne of Sobs, killian.db, truesanju, prostatelatte (hyperpop party) queer friendly, Mortar & Pestle rooftop bar @ 269 South Bridge Rd, $20
• DJ, Mondrian Singapore Duxton pres. Duxton Chill Social ft DJ Jenn CHUNES, Christina's Restaurant-Bar @ 16A Duxton Hill
• DJ, RETRO NIGHT 80s 90s with DJ Martin & Jag, Furama RiverFront Waterfall Lounge, $22
• DJ, Magic Carpet: Urban Friday Bollywood, 7500e Beach Rd, $20-$30
• DJ, Reggaeton Party - ft DJs Ollie Des, Naddz, The Iceman, Jag, Mc Hadi, Likeablack, dirty blonde @ suntec city L3 sky garden bar, $12
• DJ, Prism: x Eleven Degrees: 5SOG Denial - Breakup Season, prism club @ marina square, $30
• DJ, HUNGAMA : Hottest Bollywood + Club hits, $30
• DJ, Neil Conversion: Rihanna Night, 43 Neil Road (maxwell), gay bar-club
• DJ, BLASÈ September Edition ft DJ K, Piratheeb, Abhi (Hiphop Rnb, Dancehall, Reggaeton), Blu Jaz @ Bali Lane, $15
• DJ, Offtrack: Candice B (disco house soul), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ + Live, Club Lunar: Mid-Autumn Festival ft Sweet Singer Carly, asian-style club @ Orchard Plaza L4 (somerset)
• DJ, Club Rich: DJ Alexandra, asian-style club @ 114 middle rd (bugis),
• DJ, Yang: Back to the Old School (90s-00s) ft DJ MJ IsVicious (MY), resty, shai, mr boo, yang club clarke quay blk a, $20
• DJ, Majesty: Kaeiz & Joeru, majesty chen bar-club @ oxley tower L20 (cbd)
• DJ, Cherry Disco: Kitchen DJs - return of loopinmotion & rob young (techno, house, cherry hall is open format), 133 cecil st (cbd), $25
• DJ, ARK11: MAKE YOU FREAK (TH harddance edm), ark11 club @ orchard central L11
• DJ, Tuff: Thugshop X Art Beyond - Ritter Butzke Berlin Takeover - DARIN EPSILON (melodic house & techno), tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd, $36
• DJ, BONDAX (nu disco) ft Mannfred (aka MYRNE playing UKG) & J Goh, MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $48

30 Sep, Sat

• Olivia Ong 王俪婷, capitol theatre city hall, $88
• SUNAMI (metalcore) - ft Wreckonize, Kill on Sight, Flames of Conviction, Renegade, Scape Orchard L5, $50
• Metal Fest: Metal United World Wide - Ft. Sprengkopf, Deceased, Welkin, Heremod, Sangriento, Meltgsnow, Witchseeker, Antologi, Truth Be Known, Deux Ex Machina Gr.ID Mall Selegie (bs SOTA) L5, soldout but tix available by PM $45
• Subsonic Eye (SG indie rock/dream pop), ESPLANADE, $28
• Indie Hiphop Fest: 5 Of A Kind Street Arts Festival - The Ripple DAY 1 ft. ABANGSAPAU, Cravism, Fauxe (SG hiphop rnb electronic), D'Marquee Downtown East (pasir ris), from $25
• Indie Hiphop RnB & DJ Fest: Control by None pres. Sounds of the Jungle - ft. Yung Raja, Opus Renegade, Tengy, Sappy Chill, Shane2Sweet, 8ToTheSide x Ki Zikry ++ DJs Jiang, Race, Infra 24, (sho)andtell, Mako , cafe tailor made @ 100 turf club rd (sixth avenue), $30
• Indie: The Baybuddies Show - 2022 reunion ft. Aggressive Raisin Cat & Reserate (prog metalcorers), Motifs (shoegaze dreampop), xena giam (funky rnb), Hijack Hayley (indie rock) & surprise band, Atrix Building Geylang, $25
• SG Style Chinese: Xinyao 41 Concert 新谣大型演唱会 - ft. 巫启贤 Eric Moo , 潘盈 Pan Ying, 黎沸挥 Roy Loi, 洪劭轩 Peter Ang, 董姿彦 Joanna Don, 许美静 Mavis Hee & 邓淑娴 Brenda Tang, Our Tampines Hub, free RSVP
• LOVE 972双庆生年度音乐剧 - 29争精彩, LAST, mediacorp theatre one-north, $58
• Indie Singer-Songwriters: Saylah Sessions Birthday Bash - Rhyu, Umar Sirhan, Danesh Leonadi, 180 Paya Lebar Rd (macpherson), $25 google form

 

• Esplanade: Gan Ainm (Celtic-rock / folk punk), free
• Esplanade: Confluence - Bharatanatyam & carnatic music, free
• Esplanade: Michael Pignéguy & The Awakenings Ensemble - Tales from the Orient (persian arabic, jazz), outdoor, free
• Esplanade: Workshop: Music of the Middle East: Exploring Persian, Arabic & Turkish traditions led by Michael Pignéguy, free

 

• Cool Cats Jazz: Buenos Dias Brothers: The Sounds of Peru + DJ Set, last nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $38
• Maduro: Jazz Guitar Duo: Alvin Wong & Joe Lee, maduro @ sofitel sentosa, $38++ drink credits
• SSO: Mischa Maisky x Han-Na Chang (plays wagner, saint-saens, mozart), singapore symphony orchestra gala - LAST, Victoria Concert Hall, $25
• Mid-Autumn Family FUN 2023: Harmonies Across Generations: A Musical Exploration of Timeless Connections 合家童乐, Singapore Conference Hall @ 7 Shenton Way, $19
• Mid-Autumn: Once Upon a Full Moon 2023 by TENG Ensemble, Day 2, VivoCity Amphitheatre, $5
• NLB: Emmanuel Symphony Orchestra - Autumn's Reunion《秋之团圆》, Woodlands Regional Library, free RSVP
• DO YOU A CAPELLA 2023: EVOIXLUTION ft SMU VOIX & Alumni, gateway theatre bukit merah, $27
• Comedy: Rishi Budhrani: ARTIFICIAL INDIAN, LAST national library, $35
• Theatre: National Theatre Live: THE SEAGULL, the projector golden mile tower, $17
• Pink Blossoms Brewing Oktober Fest - Party Under The Stars, The Gateway (150 Beach Road), free
• World X Fest Japan Anime J-Pop Matsuri - ft. Anisong artistes Yuka Takada, Sarah, Akko Gorilla, Daimon Yayoi, Day 2 Clarke Quay Central, free
• Fundraiser Acoustic by Iman's League, Banana Foster & more @ Fundraiser Sale for Morocco & Libya: Artcore Punk Shop , Geylang Pavilion Square, free
• Blackbird: DYRT 90s Grunge Tribute, Blackbird Music Bar Gillman Barracks @ 8 Lock Rd
• Art Gig: the seabed nomad thanks you for your company - performance & artist talk with Phyo Thant Kyaw, 81 Tagore Lane, $10

 

• DJ, SUNDA 2023 CAMPING FESTIVAL - ft ALI, Daryl Knows, Dexter Colt, DEAN CHEW ft Kaye, DJ Masda, Elaheh, El Professionel, Fraktal, FZPZ, Helios XL, Jonathan Kusuma, Kindergarchy, Kin Leonn, Kuniyuki, Merve, We are Neurotic, XES XES Loveseat, Yadin Moha Day 1 , Sarimbun Scout Camp, from $64
• DJ, Wallich's House Party x Element SG - ft DJs Vanan M, Mr. Gray, Taz Angullia (tech housey), Wallich Manor Cocktail Bar @ Sofitel City Centre (tg pagar), $15
• DJ, Beetlehead Fallen (metal event), kult kafe @ grandstand 200 turf club rd (sixth avenue), $30
• DJ, 🏖 Ze Pegasus Pool Party- Series 1, One Farrer Hotel @ 1 Farrer Park
• DJ, CULTURE X Who Hurt You ❓ Presents Paramore & Friends,dirty blonde @ suntec city L3 sky garden bar, $26
• DJ, CHOICE CUTS: Disco Inferno and Slices, CHOICE CUTS GOODS + COFFEE @ 446 Joo Chiat Road, $16
• DJ & Drag PLAYTIME with House of Heals of Thailand, club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk, $45
• DJ & Drag BABY BOY vol 27: THOTTY LIKE IT'S HOT ft DJ AKA Sounds, Lokies Khan & some queens, QUEER hard rock cafe orchard cuscaden, $15
• Drag Moonstone: ACYD RAYNE, Moonstone BAR @ 103 Amoy St
• DJ, kidg plays Shanghai Underground by The Dragon Chamber (Asian funk & disco), 2 Circular Road (boat quay), reserve
• DJ, AFROGROOVE #17 with DJ Sam & DaBishop OnDMix, Blu Jaz @ bali ln (bugis), $20
• DJ, Offtrack: Matty Wainwright b2b Brendon P (disco, baleric), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, 🏖Manifest's Disco Acapulco (Disco House) - DJs Kevin Sy, Luca V, Yujin, AKA Sounds, 1-Altitude Coast @ Outpost Hotel Sentosa, $36
• DJ, Bailar Sensación Latin Party 30th Sep (Salsa Edition), BISOUX Cafe Cocktail Bar @ Gr.Id Selegie, $19
• DJ, Catfish Izakaya pres The Red Room Vol 5 (100% afrobeats) - ft. Ash Le Tigre, SWTLKR, LI.A, B10N, 5 Gemmill Lane (Telok Ayer), free
• DJ, Club Hell: Kpop In Hell, gay club @ 113 telok ayer st, $30
• DJ, Magic Carpet: UMANG 2023, 7500E Beach Rd, $35
• DJ, Pelago's SILENT DISCO Full Moon Party, marina bay sands rooftop observation, $38
• DJ, Zodiac Bar: Techno Night DJ KRYSSY & Drag Show with SAMMI ZHEN, 50 Prinsep St, freeflow for $52
• DJ, Club Rich: DJ Valent, asian style club @ 114 middle rd (bugis)
• DJ, ARK11: KRAIZ (electro), ark11 club @ orchard central L11,
• DJ, Tuff: Daytime Dancing & EJ Missy (prog house Balearic techno), tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd
• DJ, PRISM: INQUISITIVE (SG hard asian edm) , prism club @ marina square, $63
• DJ, Thugshop pres - XHIN [SG Techno IDM - MIDNIGHT SHIFT / TOKEN], headquarters techno-house club @ 66A boat quay, $36
• DJ, Marquee: NICKY ROMERO, marquee club marina bay sands, $55
• DJ, NIA ARCHIVES (UK jungle dnb) ft Roska, mandala club @ bukit pasoh, $70

01 Oct, Sun

• FUR (UK indie pop rock), ESPLANADE, $68
• Indie Hiphop: 5 Of A Kind Street Arts Festival - The Ripple DAY 2 ft. TENGY, The Cosmic Owls, Mary Sue (SG rnb hiphop), D'Marquee Downtown East (pasir ris), from $25
• SSO: Unboxing the Organ with Dr Phoon Yu x Lorong Boys, Victoria Concert Hall, $5
• Blu Jaz: New Stream Brass Band (new orleans style brass jazz latin funk), Neon Lounge @ Blu Jaz L2 Bali Ln, $22
• Jazz Loft: Sunday Jam Session, Blu Jaz L3 bali ln (bugis), free
• Drummers Meetup Open: Shed No.9, scape orchard, free
• Ocarina workshop Decorate n Play by SCCC Mid-Autumn Family Fun, SCCC @ 1 Straits Blvd, $11
• World X Fest Japan Anime J-Pop Matsuri - ft. Anisong artistes Yuka Takada, Sarah, Akko Gorilla, Daimon Yayoi, last Clarke Quay Central, free
• Mid-Autumn: Once Upon a Full Moon 2023 by TENG Ensemble, Day 2, VivoCity Amphitheatre (harbourfront), $5
• Ding Yi Chinese Chamber Classics: Says Hu, ESPLANADE, $28
• Esplanade: SOUL (pop classics) by Andrea Joy Alingalan, Marcus Cheong, Beatrice Jaymes Pung, Ricardo Peralta , free
• Esplanade: Cassandra Spykerman & friends - Chill & Feel (pop neo-soul classics), free

 

• SUNDA 2023 CAMPING FESTIVAL Day 2 - Amanda Ling, Batavia Collective, Bottle Smoker, Chalo, DJ Linh, DITA, Ice Cream Sundays & MCLH, Kingston, Mantravine, Munir, Ramesh, RTJ, The Weatherman, Toni Yotzi, WAX'O Paradiso, Sarimbun Scout Camp, from $64
• DJ & Live, CAMPFIRE Clay Camp Closing Party x SYNDICATE - Weish, Cherry Chan, Kiat, intriguant, Xue, Jalan Bahar Clay Studios - 97L Lorong Tawas, $40
• DJ & Drag, Neil Conversion: WERQ, 43 Neil Road (maxwell), gay bar-club

02 Oct, Mon

• Genshin Concert - Melodies of an Endless Journey (con. Thanapol Setabrahmana), DAY 1, ESPLANADE, $90 waitlist (soldout in 5 mins)
• chamber orchestra: JDN Party Quest: Nintendo in Concert, Orchestra Hall @ Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music, free
• Esplanade: Gaston and Lucas (pop singer-songwriter, classical buskers), free
• Esplanade: Coffee Morning & Afternoon Tea Relaxed Concert - The Lovely Young Times by Sherraine Law, $18 soldout
• Sing'Theatre: Musical Theatre Open Mic Night, Lowercase Cafe @ Laselle College of Arts (rochor), $12
• DJ, PRISM: Mon to Wed XV Nights (DJ Lisa, Lucas, Edge - Asian EDM), prism club @ marina square, free

03 Oct, Tue

• Genshin Concert - Melodies of an Endless Journey (con. Thanapol Setabrahmana), LAST, ESPLANADE, $90 waitlist
• Esplanade: Tiara Maimun (singer-songwriter), free
• Cool Cats Blues & Jazz: Jeffrey Tan on Violin, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $30

04 Oct, Wed

• lee jong suk fanmeeting tour, ESPLANADE, $128
• Singapore Chinese Cultural Centre's HAPPY SING ALONG 欢喜来唱歌 (dialect and mandopop ft marcus chin, lee peifen, haohao), SCCC @ 1 Straits Blvd (shenton way), $5
• Esplanade: Fifi (malay jazzy pop rnb), free
• Cool Cats Jazz: Wei Xiang Trio, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $30
• Blackbird: Girls Like Mystery (indie rock), Blackbird Music Bar Gillman Barracks @ 8 Lock Rd
• DJ, Marquee: Dainjazone (US hiphop) for Mixtape Rewind, marquee club marina bay sands, $20 (ladies free)

05 Oct, Thu

• Nathan Hartono - In The Clouds LIVE!, Capitol Theatre City Hall, $50
• NAFA Concert Series: Chinese Classics 《经典华乐》, Lee Foundation Theatre Bencoolen, free
• Jazz Loft: FATE Quartet, Blu Jaz L3 @ bali ln (bugis), $24
• Cool Cats Jazz: Chok Kerong Organ Trio, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $38
• SSO: Heroic Tales of Richard Strauss (ft. Ng Pei-sian, Manchin Zhang, Hans Graf), ESPLANADE, $15
• Esplanade: A Night with ARDY (pop), free
• DJ, Offtrack: Bongomann x El Professionel (outsider electronica), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, Last Night at Studio 54 by Secret Theatre x Mandala Club, mandala club @ bukit pasoh
• DJ, Secret Party by Secret Pals - ft Apetalkstrash & Surprise Guests b2b2b2b (hint its the PH baybeats band), Moonstone BAR @ 103 Amoy St
• DJ, Afterlife pres. Electrifying Affair - ft DJs Hamez, Ling, Juk3box, Belle (edm pop), hard rock cafe orchard cuscaden, $15 student rest $25

06 Oct, Fri - Baybeats Weekend, Children's Day

• DJ, Marquee: Afrojack, marquee club marina bay sands, $85 (students $20)
• Distant Worlds: music from FINAL FANTASY (ft Metropolitan Festival Orchestra & Symphonia Choralis), The Star Theatre (buona vista), $138
• EDEN JAZZ FESTIVAL DAY 1 - Lemuel Lee Trio, Richard Jackson Trio, Namie & The Waves & Sugar Bees ft Kenzo, JAZZ LOFT at Blu Jaz L3 bali ln (bugis), $22
• Maduro Jazz: Duets ft. EJ Hughes & Amanda Lee, maduro @ sofitel sentosa, $38++ drink credits
• Piano Recital by Anna Geniushene (tchaikovsky, prokofiev, rachmaninov & more), Victoria Concert Hall, $25
• Lunchtime Concerts at ACM: Chamber, Asian Civilisations Museum (city hall), free
• YST Visiting Artist Series: Kam-Harwood-Lim Trio, Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music, $10
• Cool Cats Jazz: Adam Hall & The Velvet Playboys (50s soul rnb jazz), DAY 1 nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $38
• Phil's Studio Reopening - Open Mic Night, High Street Centre (opp parliament) Level 3, free

 

Esplanade Children's Day

• Esplanade: kids Job Search, free
• Esplanade: Bukit View Primary School Angklung and Kulintang Ensemble, free
• Esplanade: kids Musical Tales of Little-Known Tails, free till sunday
• Esplanade: Harp Cha Cha Cha, free
• Esplanade: kidsOnce Upon a Tune, free
• Esplanade: Jazz for Kids: Play with Humpty! ft DAWN WONG, RSVP
• Esplanade: Make Your Own Octoburst! Cap, free

DISTRICT M: Marina Central Festival Day 1 (Same area)

• Marina Square Deck - Tim De Cotta, rhyu, shazza, charlie lim, @ marina square, free
• Wagon Park DJ - Attagirl, Ice Cream Sunday DJs, KiDG of eatmepoptart, @ millenia walk, free
• Fountain Stage - Corrine May, Jonathan Shin, Alicia Pan, @ South Beach, free
• Music Piazza - Dru Chen, Shye, OHMYMEITING, JM.3 @ Suntec City Fountain, free
• DM GUIDE: https://instagram.com/p/Cxs-0atSyFk/

Esplanade BAYBEATS: Free Alt Festival Day 1

• Esplanade: Songs of A Rebellious Teen – Art Fazil's 30th Anniversary Album Celebration, $28
• Arena: Count Vernon, Krunkle, Orange Ocean (CN), Cesspit, Outdoor Theatre, free
• Chillout Stage: Tres Empire (MY), Lester Lam (HK), Indoor Concourse, free
• Annexe: JADE EYES (TW), Sphaeras, MASS OF THE FERMENTING DREGS (JP), Annexe Studio bs Anime Cafe, free but RSVP, walk in possible but harder
• PowerHouse: The Jansen (ID), Fazi (CN), No Rest for the Weary, Delta Sleep (UK), Singtel Waterfront Theatre, free but RSVP, walk in possible
• Friday's Individual Act List and sign up

 

• DJ, Escape56 ft Paramida (Love On The Rocks / DE) , Leland & Anwar (house vibe), Warehouse rave, see student dc else $38
• DJ, EmoNightSG: The B-Sides (emo pop-punky event), hard rock cafe orchard cuscaden, $18
• DJ, Culture pres. MOOD: R&B - ft soundsoffai, DJ Pin & Zax, Projector X No Spoilers Bar @ Cineleisure Orchard, $30
• DJ, UPLOADING X GRAVYBABY MIDNIGHT DINER - Kiat, Jema, Scatta, Intriguant, nothing fancy @ 11 Hamilton Road, $19
• DJ, illusion freaky friday (hiphop, edm top40s), festivo @ 100 turf club rd (sixth avenue), $25
• DJ, Gin + Groove, ft Tatsumi Distillery & Japanese Tunes, Temple Cellars @ 31 Binjai Park, $10
• DJ, iki: It's Like HONEY by Olliedes (Disco to Soul, Funk Hip Hop), club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk, $22
• DJ, Oktoberfest @ 1-Arden, 1-Arden bar @ CapitaSpring rooftop (raffles place), $20
• * DJ, Neil Conversion : Pop Night, 43 Neil Road (maxwell), gay bar-club
• DJ, Offtrack: crwn (PH soul jazz house), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, Tipsy Unicorn: Emma Hewitt (trance), Tipsy Unicorn @ 36 Siloso Bch Walk Sentosa, $40
• DJ, Thugshop pres. SPFDJ (SWE techno), MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $47
• DJ, Zouk: John Summit (US prog tech house), zouk club clarke quay, $50

07 Oct, Sat

• Show Lo 羅志祥, Indoor Stadium, $110
• a1 - 25th anniversary tour, mediacorp theatre one-north, $120
• FOURTWNTY (ID), capitol theatre city hall, $120
• Cahaya Iman - Charity Concert ft Raihan, Gateway Theatre, $90
• Liu Geng Hong 刘畊宏 x Nan Quan Mama 南拳妈妈 ft Wu Chun 吴尊, Sands Wellness Extravaganza, marina bay sands grand ballroom, $68
• Unnikrishnan (IN), Carnival Cinemas @ Golden Mile Tower, $60
• * BEASTS OF THE EAST: CHAPTER 1: Vrykolakas, E-Thereal, Dispeteous, Repture, NuuRisk, Where The Dead Gather,metal $30
• Indie Shoegaze: Stargazing -- Astra, TheTrevorWee, Bon3z (post baybeats timing), ultrasupernew gallery @ 168 Tyrwhitt Rd, $25
• Competition Finale: SG:SW 2023 I Write The Songs”《我写我的歌》压轴演唱会 Finale Concert ft 叶玉棂 Yokez & 罗美仪 Bonnie Loo - SG Songwriters Mandopop Fest, SCCC @ 1 Straits Boulevard, $18
• EDEN JAZZ FESTIVAL DAY 2 - Arnold Pontoh Quartet, Michelle Chua Quartet, Alexandra Hsieh, The Feather Squashers, JAZZ LOFT at Blu Jaz L3 bali ln (bugis), $22
• Jiu Jian 玖健 x Chen Yi 宸壹 x Tallin 嫦嫔 - When We All Get Together 当我们同在一起 , ESPLANADE, $55
• SYNTH / Experimental / Retro: Robo-Agogo by SYNTH COMMUNE - ft. Karsten, Fallling Islands, Peter Waszecki, Abyss Simian/Ben Ang, Brian O'Reilly, Irving Paul Pereira, Yingyi.F , ZIGGY ZAGGY @ 51 Kampong Bugis (kallang riverside park), free RSVP
• Timbre One North: Kouza (SG post-rock), music food court @ 73A Ayer Rajah Crescent, free
• Lunchtime Concerts at Asian Civilisations Museum: Cantiamo – Rich Vocal Works, free
• YST: Orchestral Institute: One Always Returns (ft.T'ang Quartet and conductor Jason Lai), NUS Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music, $10
• Samuel King's 23 & 32 Piano Recital (rachmaninoff), Chinese Cultural Centre, $35
• SSO Babies’ Proms, singapore symphony orchestra - day 1, Victoria Concert Hall, $32
• Disney 100 in concert: The Sound of Magic (ft. Orchestra of the Music Makers), DAY 1, ESPLANADE, $60
• Jazz & Wine @ Intercontinental Singapore Lobby Lounge (ft Alemay Fernandez), 80 middle rd (bugis), $38
• Cool Cats Jazz: Adam Hall & The Velvet Playboys (50s soul rnb jazz), LAST nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $38
• Biggest BOLLYWOOD DANDIYA 2023, Singapore Khalsa Association @ 2 Tessensohn Rd, $24
• * Fat Kid Records Artsy Weekend - Pop Up Market @ Crane Joo Chiat, 281 joo chiat rd

 

District M: Marina Central Festival Day 2 (same area)

• Marina Square Deck - Daniel Sid, Marian Carmel, RENE, lewloh, GRANTPEREZ, @ marina square, free
• Wagon Park DJ - Mervin Wong, Fauxe, DJ Shota, KoFlow, @ millenia walk, free
• Fountain Stage - Bards of Neverland, Litmus Jazz Ensemble, Lorong Boys, @ South Beach, free
• Music Piazza - Ginette Chittick, LAYYI, Budak Pantai, Sezairi @ Suntec City Fountain, free
• District M GUIDE: https://instagram.com/p/Cxs-0atSyFk/?img_index=3

BAYBEATS: Free Alt Festival Day 2

• Arena: M.Y.T.H, The Workshop, Capt'n Trips and the Kid (MY), Paint the Sky Red, The Panturas (ID), Outdoor Theatre, free
• Chillout Stage: Sun Cell, Krunkle, Indoor Concourse, free
• Annexe: Rosalyn (TH), SOS (PH), nkei, Annexe Studio bs Anime Cafe, free but RSVP, walk in possible but harder
• PowerHouse: hirk (HK), shye, Forests, Tres Empire (MY), Wormrot ft Gabriel Dubko and weish, Singtel Waterfront Theatre, free but RSVP, walk in possible
• Saturday's Individual Act List and signup

 

• * DJ, NAGA HOUSE: Discoteca - ft. Kins & Anwar (disco, italo, funk, boogie), Bar Cafe Bistro @ 14 Lor Telok (boat quay)
• * DJ, Rumors Beach Club: Nicolette (balearic, disco, house, asian pop-funk), 40 Siloso Beach Sentosa
• * DJ, Agitar Vol. 4 0 Birthday Bash ft Snickaz, Naddz, Lyo, Iceman, Kelibre (reggaeton hiphop latin house)
• * DJ, Club Rich: Chri-z, @ 114 middle rd (bugis), asian club
• DJ, ONE WITH ALDRIN 20th Anniversary - ft. Bongomann, Erwin Linden, James Selva, Sivanesh, Warehouse Rave @ 203a Henderson Rd (bukit merah), $35
• DJ, EATMEPOPTART: ELECTRIC FEEL w weelikeme & fantastic dinosaur (80 disco, synth pop, funk & soul and hair rock), Projector X No Spoilers Bar @ Cineleisure Orchard, $15
• DJ, Techno Bloodbath by MISS HOMO - ft FALSE WITNESS (GER), TMDDJ & Metamoksha, queer, MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $25
• DJ, 4xF009 QuantOM (prog trance & psytrance) - ft. Ambient NRG, Andre Marc, Cosmo Carbon, Peng Soo, Labraatz, Pure Love, DR Foo , Orchard-Somerset, $25
• DJ, 0RBIT pres. Creatures of Curiosities rave - ft. VYLT (SG darksynth), Nuu P3AC3 (TH), PLNT DD (US), SADOMASODISCO (PH), Queer Circus Theme, Kult Kafe @ grandstand 200 turf club rd (sixth avenue), $27
• * DJ, Club Hell: BDSMM ft Hugo & Bunny Park, gay club @ 113 telok ayer st, $30
• DJ, Goth Party BATCAVE Project: MASSACRE'ADE , Sopranos Bistro @ 18 Carpenter St (clarke quay), $20
• DJ & Live , OKTOBERFEST 2023- Rooftop Edition), Grand Park City Hall, $27
• DJ, Get Real FT ADONIS(2000s Hip Hop x RnB x Reggaeton), ikigai izakaya the riverwalk, $11
• DJ, 🏖 Manifest Pool Party feat RPDM + KYLIE NICOLE + JAMIE HALL + TAAKA, 1-Altitude Coast @ Outpost Hotel Sentosa, $36
• DJ, Silent Recess @ The Tuckshop Assembly with DJ Tang (90s/00s HIP HOP), 403 Guillemard rd , $10
• DJ, Offtrack: Dean Chew b2b Tashasan (global bass), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, 🏖 BYOT - Bring Your Own Trunks, Gay event Pullman Hotel Hill Street pool (city hall)
• DJ, Zouk Phuture: SLIME with DJ Pin, Rattle, Mr Boo (hiphop), zouk phuture club clarke quay, $20
• DJ, Zouk Capital: Transfix pres. DJ RAM (NL trance) with Effen, zouk capital lounge clarke quay, $50
• DJ, Tipsy Unicorn Mariana Bo (electronic music and live violin), Tipsy Unicorn Beach Club Sentosa, $27
• DJ, Thugshop X Soul Collective pres - TERENCE C [KL], DJOON NICO, tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd, $35
• DJ, Thugshop pres THE DRIFTER, headquarters techno-house club @ 66A boat quay, $36
• DJ, CÉ LA VI: ØOSTIL (ARG tech housey), marina bay sands hotel rooftop bar-club, $38, $38

08 Oct, Sun

• TINY MOVING PARTS, hard rock cafe orchard cuscaden, $70
• * NAC Concert in the Gardens pres. Thomson Jazz: Swing Band and Big Band, singapore botanic gardens shaw symphony stage, free
• CAPITAL 958 唱 FUN 天 - 80、90年代金曲, mediacorp theatre one-north, $18
• Disney 100 in Concert: The Sound of Magic (ft. Orchestra of the Music Makers), LAST, ESPLANADE, $60
• SSO Babies’ Proms, singapore symphony orchestra - LAST, Victoria Concert Hall, $32
• Jazz Loft: Sunday Jam Session, Blu Jaz L3 @ bali ln (bugis), free
• The Clarinet Club - 'A Clarinet Affair' , ESPLANADE, $15
• Tatva Elements, LAST also on 7th Goodman Arts Centre (mountbatten), $38
• DJ, GrooveTop pres. Slow Jamz Sunday (rnb neo-soul) ft. Li.A, Ya5th & Some Guy (PH), Baby Rascal bar & bistro @ 30 maxwell rd, $15

 

BAYBEATS Free Alt Festival - LAST

• Arena: Taledrops, Thy Howler, Sun Cell, I Mean Us (TW), Death of Heather (TH), Outdoor Theatre, free
• Chillout Stage: Capt'n Trips and the Kid (MY), Club Fiasco (HK), Indoor Concourse, free
• Annexe: Mary Sue (and the clementi sound appreciation club), WHIZZ (HK), Feez, Annexe Studio bs Anime Cafe, free but RSVP, walk in possible
• PowerHouse: Doldrey, Bomb at Track (TH), The Great Spy Experiment, Holy Serpent (AU), Urbandub (PH), Singtel Waterfront Theatre, free but RSVP, walk in possible but great spy is overbooked
• Sunday's Individual Acts List and signup

09 Oct, Mon

• Wolfgang Violin Studio: Classical Rock: Anime, Movies & Classics, 9th Oct Esplanade Recital Studio, ESPLANADE, $45
• Esplanade: Finding Love by Alex GLim, Beatrice Jaymes, Kevin Lau (singer-songwriter), free

10 Oct, Tue

• Charlie Puth, Indoor Stadium, $128
• Mediacorp GOLD 905’s Rock of Ages Night (ft Jive Talkin & Mr X), The Star Theatre (buona vista), freeflow 18+, $88
• Esplanade: Briolette Quintet - To Love and To Let Go (pop classical), free
• Cool Cats Blues & Jazz: Patrick Olsen on Flute, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $30
• DJ, *Vertigo 26: U2 Rattle & Hum Anniversary Night, Bar at MINT Museum City Hall

11 Oct, Wed-eezer

• WEEZER, The Star Theatre (buona vista), $100
• Esplanade: Summer Attic (Bollywood and Bhangra hits), free
• Cool Cats: Jazz Sessions with Amanda Lee Swingtet, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $30
• * DJ, v1ce afrobeats, Magic Carpet lounge 7500e beach road, $25

12 Oct, Thu

• Cancelled: mxmtoon (US bedroom pop), pasir panjang power station
• Javed Ali (IN), ESPLANADE, $60
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I was talking to a coworker this morning cuz I work nights and they said that we don't do anything. Are job isn't hard. In that we need to make bales because it's our job and we should make bales even though the team leader and nobody has told us to but we should do it. I just want to let everyone remember that if it wasn't for maintenance to store would be shut the f*** down if it wasn't for the m************ and I'd scrubbing the goddamn floors cleaning the bathrooms at night doing that s*** the store would go down. Just like dishwashers in fast food and restaurants if it wasn't for the dishwashers there'd be no restaurant there'd be no food being made no food being cooked there'd be no money being made because dishwashers are important people don't realize that these small minion school jobs that they don't see is important actually hold the power. We have we have about nine people on night maintenance and we all do different things we have one guy that cleans out back does the pallets does the does the cleaning up outside rides the forklift around does that s*** we have people that scrub the floors I do the bathrooms I sweep under shelves I do the wood sweep and mop it. Not including what other little tasks they have is due or what other b******* they decide to add on the ice like wiping down the glass doors on the bunkers or dusting the entrances for dust. I'm sick and tired of the disrespect. The worst is when employees will move my car from the bathroom door and just storm in the bathroom and start using it when I'm in the middle of cleaning it or after I just marked they walk there nasty f****** feet all over the goddamn floor and not care. I started telling everybody now I have chemical spray down I have a little bit of powers and maintenance man to deny people from the bathrooms and I f****** do it f*** you piss your goddamn drawers b*. kind of f*** lady coming in the woman's bathroom as I was cleaning and asked if she could use it I said no I have chemical spray chance again I said no there's bathrooms up front she said I don't have time I have diabetes I need to use the bathroom now like I can help you and she said I'll go to the men's and Literally laugh and went to the men's bathroom.
So here's another thing that us maintenance man at my store are angry about right now so we have a plastic baler across the store and have a cardboard baler. Well for some reason there was trash cans by the cardboard baler full of plastic and bags of plastic just spread everywhere I had to clean it up. So some b**** comes in this morning and is saying oh I need to put those trash cans back and I stood up I said you do not need to put those trash cans back you need to walk the plastic over to the plastic baler and throw it away. That wouldn't be a problem with the trash cans in the plastic if they would take empty it not shove it three full bags of plastic on top of each other along with rap and Saran wrap just everywhere it's awful I told her it just makes more mess more work for us to do at night because no one cleans it out when you can just walk over to the Baler. I said if people weren't lazy and just did it from the beginning instead of piling it up where it shouldn't be. And the top it off I slip and fell before I left I'm fine definitely not doing workman's comp need a job plus I smoke the green 🌲.

The up-armored Humvee bumped over another pothole, and I wiped at a bead of sweat that hung just above my left eyebrow.
I wish I could take this vest off.
Despite how well-maintained the company vehicles were, it seemed that Humvee air-conditioners were a bit of a gamble in terms of how well they worked. Some kept their rigs icy-cool, while others put out just enough tepid air to keep the inside of the steel-covered boxes from turning into ovens. Wearing a thick bulletproof vest, camouflage fatigues, and with the afternoon temperature sticking to a balmy 86 degrees, I had long ago decided that I agreed with the contractors; Humvees sucked.
“You good, Kaba?” Our team leader, Aussie, called back to me from the front passenger seat, eyebrow raised.
My full name, Adhrit Veer Kabanagarajan, had proven rather difficult for most average Americans to pronounce. Since the mercs referred to each other by nicknames, they were more than pleased when I told them they could call me ‘Kaba’ for short. My father had moved us from Rajasthan to Ohio years ago to avoid a potential war between India and Pakistan. It had been hard at first, but I grew used to America, and had managed to find a good job for myself after graduating from university. The company had many fake titles, but the real name, the one we all knew as office employees, remained burned into the back of my mind.
The Environmental Liminal Space Alleviation and Reduction program.
I flashed a thumb’s up, and smiled to hide the grimace from how my guts whirled in protest at the bumpy ride that had gone on for close to half an hour. “I’m okay.”
“Good job, mate.” Aussie returned my thumbs up with his own, the ‘Rangers lead the way’ tattoo on his arm showing just under his rolled uniform sleeves and nodded at my canteen. “Keep drinking water though. Don’t want anyone falling out today.”
All fighters were supposed to use the code-names provided by ELSAR headquarters, a combination of letter and numbers such as R-Eleven, Aussie’s true designation, but the mercs hated those names and preferred the more personal call-signs. His was due to the fact that he’d originally come from Melbourne Australia before his US Army days, and Aussie’s down-under accent remained part of his speech to this day. I’d been incredibly nervous about working with the ‘grunts’ as my fellow office workers called them, firmly convinced they would beat me into a pulp right away.
As it turned out, nothing was further from the truth. In fact, in all my days in the US thus far, I’d never felt more welcome around a group of people than the bearded men of the Security Forces. Even though they had a sense of humor as dark as the midnight sky, they measured everyone who they came across by a standard based around actions. If you acted like an arrogant know-it-all, you could expect to be treated as an outsider who didn’t deserve the time it took to say hello. If you listened to their advice, and kept your head when they teased you, the mercs would all but adopt you as a long-lost brother in no time. It was a startlingly egalitarian culture, and I’d come to like it far better than the petty office politics of my old position.
If only it wasn’t so beastly hot.
Perched in the machine-gun turret above me, Tex leaned down and half-shouted above the dull rumble of the Humvee’s diesel engine. “Hey, isn’t this where Bronson’s platoon got wrecked by some freaks at an abandoned church?”
“Yeah, a few miles down the ridgeline.” In the driver’s seat, the tall mahogany-skinned Jamaican, Rocco, bobbed his head. “I guess he was trying to get some special capture for HQ and got bounced by a bunch of them all at once.”
I threw a glance to my left, at the one person who had yet to say anything for the entire patrol thus far. Despite my quick, discrete look, she remained motionless, and stared out the window on her side, rifle cradled in one arm like a steel infant.
The girl was slender and short, enough to make me look tall, a mean feat to say the least. She had the same sun-tanned Caucasian skin of everyone in this sleepy rural county, with brown hair the color of sandal leather. Hardly any of the contractors were women, and none of them local. This was by design, to intimidate potential adversaries, and to prevent family ties from interfering with official duty.
But Crow was both.
Like the rest of us, she wore a gray tactical uniform, hers sporting a green shield patch on her upper right arm, signifying the new Auxiliary program that HQ had initiated to draw more recruits from the local populace. Unlike the others, Crow’s nickname didn’t match anything about her. She wasn’t dark in any way, and I hadn’t heard her speak a word since I’d joined the team a week ago. Crow followed orders whenever Aussie gave them, albeit silently, and the team seemed to watch her with a strange mix of caution and sympathy that I had yet to figure out.
She could be a statue for how little she moves.
“Figures.” Tex’s southern drawl broke me from my musings, and he went back to scanning the road behind his long-barreled 240. “Bronson was a royal prick anyway. He manned a desk for division supply back in Afghanistan, but the cocky POG bragged sayin’ he went outside the wire all the time.”
POG. Person-other-than-grunt. It was an insult awarded to anyone who hadn’t ever served in the combat arms portions of the military that tried to pretend they were some kind of war hero. POG meant you weren’t experienced in the ways of war, that you were foolhardy, rash, arrogant. All things these guys hated, especially in officers.
“All it takes is one mistake, and we’re in the same boat.” Aussie scratched at his curly reddish-brown beard, and made a slight headshake. “Bronson was a bloody moron though. You know the guy actually tried to get approval for ‘strategic camps’ to herd the locals into? Can you imagine putting some farmer and his family behind barbed wire at gunpoint?”
I said nothing. We’d heard about Bronson’s demise in the office. He’d been in possession of a high-value target, though his methods were less than satisfactory. When Bronson’s patrol got torn apart as a result, headquarters had decided to dispatch a ‘cooperate liaison’ with each security team to gather scientific samples from the field, before the mercs could kill everything in sight. As one of the newer members of the biological analysis team, I’d drawn the short straw along with many others, and had been sent to play the role of a beetle-catching nerd on behalf of the suits who rested safely in their cubicles over a hundred miles away. Now, I carried an M4 automatic rifle and several loaded magazines, a Kevlar helmet on my head, with my backup handgun digging into me from where it sat on my tactical belt.
Green trees rolled by, the red sun hugging the horizon as it sank and cotton-ball clouds drifted along in the cool breeze. It was gorgeous weather, what my mother would have called ‘a gardening day’ as her favorite pastime dictated.
She’s probably in the kitchen right now, making Sandesh for Lakshmi when she gets home from swimming practice.
“Contact front, white pickup truck, two hundred meters!” Tex’s cry rang out from the gun turret, and ice rippled through my blood.
Sitting up, I peered around Rocco’s seat to stare out the front window, just in time to see a civilian pickup truck take off down the backroad, leaving behind a cloud of dust as it went. I could barely catch a circular green symbol painted onto the door of the vehicle, and a few figures huddled in the back wearing black polo shirts, rifles clutched in their hands.
Moving too fast for us to catch up, the truck disappeared down the road, and above me, Tex cranked the gun turret from side to side. Everyone seemed on edge, as these men had been on the receiving end of an ambush at one point in their lives, and I could see them all reliving those memories in their eyes as they scanned the nearby trees. Even Crow sat up in her seat and flexed her slender white fingers on the grip of her rifle with a stoney expression.
“Should we try to catch them?” I coughed, staring into the surrounding foliage as hard as I could, looking for the glimmer of light on a gun barrel like they’d taught me to do.
“No.” Aussie bore a more serious frown, his eyes flashing over the gravel roadway, one hand on his weapon. “They could be trying to lure us in. Keep this speed, Rocco. Everyone else, watch your sectors, and stay frosty.”
He picked up his radio mic to mutter something into it for the other Humvees behind us, and I forced myself to breathe slowly.
The truck is bullet proof.
My hands were clammy and cold on the carbine tucked between my skinny knees. I’d received some basic combat instruction from the mercs when I’d joined them a week ago in preparation for this mission. Thankfully, I’d made a good enough impression on my squad-mates that they’d taken the time to train with me extensively, but I’d never been shot at before, and the thought that I might have to duck bullets soon gave me chills.
“Oh fu—hey, slow down, slow down.”
I whirled at the surprised gasp from Tex, and my jaw dropped.
We rolled past the point in the road where the white pickup came from, and found ourselves face-to-face with three burned-out MRAP Cougars, high-tech armored trucks that made Humvees look like jokes. Only frontline units got those, and since we were strictly recon, HQ hadn’t felt we’d need them. But these trucks were fire-blackened, their bulletproof glass windows pockmarked with impact holes, and three large craters in the road were ringed with chunks of rubber and scrap metal.
Hanging suspended from a nearby oak tree were the bodies.
Rocco slowed to a near crawl, and even Aussie seemed too stunned to reprimand him. Close to a dozen dead men hung in the late spring breeze, their clothes burnt and bloody, with bits of yellow nylon tow-straps wrapped around their bent necks. Small cardboard signs fluttered from orange plastic baler twine draped over their shoulders, the words daubed on in crude black lettering.
Go home killer, this isn’t your land.
Thanks for the ammo, jackboot.
Do you want to see your families again? Then leave ours alone!
“Three weeks.” Rocco gripped the steering wheel so tight his ebony knuckles tinged gray, a frustrated tone to his voice. “Three weeks ago, we rolled right down this road, handing out MRE’s and water bottles to the locals. One kid even saluted me.”
Aussie scowled at the signs and spat out his open window into the dirt. “It’s those blokes from that zoo over the ridge. See all the copper shards on the road? Bet you anything they’ve got this whole road mined with EFPs.”
My brow furrowed, and I dared to lean forward in my seat. “EFP’s?”
“Explosive-formed-projectile.” Tex shifted on his feet in the gun turret, the barrel of his 240 machine-gun still trained on the shrubs. “Basically, you take a bunch or pennies or scrap copper, and pack it over some explosives in a concrete tube. When it blows, the copper turns molten, and can cut through anything, even hardened steel. Taliban used it on our convoys all the time.”
At that thought, I swallowed a dusty lump in my throat. “But why would they shoot at us? We’re trying to help them.”
“That’s what we said in Afghanistan.” Aussie sighed, his eyes staring right through the dead soldiers, and into some far-away place I couldn’t see. “Didn’t make a lick of difference there either. I think we’re done with this road, Rocco. Take the next left, and we’ll try to move around it.”
Movement blurred in the corner of my vision, and I turned to see Crow watching me, her coffee brown eyebrows raised in a cynical smirk. I waited for her to say something cutting, to berate me for my naïve questions, but as always, she just turned her head to stare back out the truck window.
We drove on in silence, leaving the dead men and their ruined trucks behind us. Aussie claimed we’d go back for them, but somehow, I doubted the corpses would even be there come the morning. I’d been briefed extensively on the anomaly situation in Barron County Ohio, and there were few things in these hills that would pass up a free meal.
A rare cosmic event . . . reality warp-plane breach . . . electromagnetic cellular mutation . . .
These words rolled through my head, and I tugged my green canvas knapsack off to pull open the top flap. Nestled beside my company-issue Geiger counter and electromagnetic scanner, the red folder glared back at me, like a wasp in a trap. Before this job, I’d loved biology, fascinated with examining the strange mysteries of nature and why things were the way they were. But now, with my textbooks effectively reduced to worthless toilet paper by the nightmares that populated this forsaken place, I’d grown to hate my chosen field.
Keeping the folder pressed deep within the confines of my bag, I peeled the cover open, and shuffled through the contents.
Type 1: The Oak-Walker
Origin unknown. Food source unknown. Largest Organic anomaly known to date. Highly intelligent bipedal organism, capable of telekinesis and short-range telepathy. Physiology resembles plant structures, such as trees and branches, though it retains a humanoid appearance. Has shown unique ability to create anomaly life forms from surrounding biological material. Extremely dangerous. Believed to be extinct at time of recording. See Persons of Interest file for individuals connected to sightings.
I swallowed a dusty lump in my throat, and peered at the artist-rendition of what corporate thought the creature looked like, an unearthly face made from a mass of tangled branches with no eyes, and a crown of sharp twigs. Even staring into the face of the thing felt wrong, despite the picture being nothing but a sketch, and I paged over to the next creature to avoid my nausea returning.
Type 2: The Echo Spider
The largest of the Techno family, this arachnid creature is made to look like a signal tower for radio or cellphone service, hibernating during the day, and prowling at night. Evidence suggests this is becoming less and less of an issue over time, as more Type 2’s have been spotted closer to daylight hours. Feeds primarily on organics and plant material. Travels in small groups of three to six, much in the same way as contemporary elephants might. Mid-range intelligence, similar to that of any large herbivore. It also has shown ability to manipulate certain species through a weaker form of telepathy than the Type 1. Vulnerable to magnetism, and sonic blasts. Current population estimates are 42 within the zone, 0 outside. Extremely dangerous, do not approach.
It went on like that, Type 3 for the Osage Wyvern, a flying creature that resembled a creepy dragon made from a rotted tree, Type 4 for the Birch Crawlers, a bizarre combination of gorilla and crocodile with skin like birch bark, and Type 5 for the Auto-Stalkers, entities that resembled old cars, but walked on all fours like water buffalo. Strangest of all, however, was Type 6.
Type 6, labeled simply as ‘homo melius’ showed several grainy satellite photographs of a slender blonde woman moving in and around a white clapboard church. She had wavy golden hair, and eyes that matched, but aside from the odd luminescence of her irises, I couldn’t see anything threatening about her. Yet in a scaling system that ranked everything from most dangerous to least, corporate designated her kind as the sixth most dangerous, despite the fact that Type 7 was the white-eyed flesh-eating humanoid Puppets. Still, her profile was marked with the big, bold High Value Target etched at the top of the page, and I wondered if this had been the prize that Bronson died for.
How is some random girl more dangerous that a bunch of howling wooden cannibals?
“We’re here.”
Aussie’s voice broke me from my pondering, and I looked up in time for prickly dread to seep through me from head to toe.
Squat wooden buildings sat around a fenced in yard covered with old, dry sawdust. Various logs lay stacked in heaps, and a few pieces of heavy equipment stood frozen in between the piles, like rusted giants fossilized by the daylight. A leaning sign half-covered by brush read ‘Everwood Lumber and Beam Co’ in faded white lettering. The dark windows of the sawmill gaped with inky shadows, and even as the Humvees circled the center of the yard like pioneer wagons, a chill ran down my spine.
“Alright everyone, keep your eyes open and stay close.” Aussie reached to the shoulder strap of his plate carrier and clicked the mic on his radio. “Search team with me, everyone else maintain 360 security around the trucks.”
Grunted replies crackled over the radio, and Aussie threw me a nod. “Time to go.”
The sawdust muffled my footfalls, and somehow the entire yard seemed to be quieter than anywhere else I’d ever been, despite the idling diesel gun trucks behind me. With every step I took toward the main building of the sawmill, the world grew ever more silent, like it held its breath in abhorrent anticipation of what might come.
Readings. I need readings, for safety.
Fumbling with my gear, I dug out the Geiger counter and pressed the power button.
Tick . . . tick, tick.
It whirred and clicked in my hand, but the clicking didn’t rise to the level where I would need the bulky gray gas mask that bounced on my thigh. Various ELSAR research sites throughout the US confirmed that high or pulsating levels of radiation accompanied by erratic electromagnetic readings meant the presence of an anomaly. When it came to such things, the newer they were, the more dangerous, as they had yet to figure out their place in the environment and were thus much more defensive and hostile.
I scanned every vehicle in the yard, the silent cranes, the forklifts, even a rusted old pickup truck in the weeds.
Clear.
Aussie and Rocco followed not far behind me, rifles at the ready. I doubted their bullets would help much if anything bigger than a Type 7 leapt out of the woodwork, but it was a nice thought that at least I wouldn’t die alone.
Whiiirrr.
My counter cringed with clicks the instant I panned it over the nearby sawmill main building, and I suppressed a groan.
“You don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.” Aussie trudged up next to me, genuine concern in his tone. “Our Blue Force tracker hasn’t worked since the county line, and there’s no air cover thanks to the high-altitude electronic interference. I could say we got lost, or bogged down in a minefield. It’s your call.”
True bravery is being willing to do hard things for the good of others.
My mother’s words echoed in my head, bits of wisdom from my childhood, so distant yet still so sweet. How I wished I could go back, back to being naïve and innocent, back to believing my parents when they told me there were no such things as monsters. Back to the normal world.
“I’m getting strong readings.” I coughed and spat into the dirt to avoid making eye contact with the sawmill. “If the satellite images were correct . . . then I have to be sure.”
Aussie flicked his eyes toward the sun, as if already worried about how much daylight we had left. “If you say so. Let us go first, just to make sure nothing’s waiting in there, yeah?”
At that, I didn’t protest.
We donned our gas masks, just in case, the men forming a small square around me, Aussie and Rocco on either side, Tex and Crow to the rear. The others watched with grave expressions from behind their trucks as we slowly stalked toward the closest man door on the sawmill, without so much as a peep over the radio.
“Check it out.” Tex stopped a few feet from the sheet metal door, and everyone froze in unison. “Never seen Skinnies do that before.”
The circle of handprints ringed a crudely painted stick figure, daubed in the same sticky black substance that always caused a stir amongst our researchers every time we put it under a microscope. To anyone else, it looked like black sludge, perhaps congealed motor oil or tar, but I knew better.
“Type 7’s.” I breathed through the filter on my mask, awed and shaken by being so close. “They paint with their blood. Handprints mark an important place for them, like nests.”
“So, what’s that in the middle?” Rocco edged closer and poked his rifle barrel at the blurred silhouette.
It had no face, just a blur of smears shaped like wriggling branches, and more twigs poked up over its head in a bizarre crown. Its arms were outstretched like a god from the walls of some ancient temple, and long thin lines, like vines, wove from its four-fingered hands to each encircling palm print, connecting them all in itself. A brief hum of static rippled through my head upon gazing into the picture’s hidden face, and I had to force a breath down my lungs to snap my eyes away from it.
“Not sure.” I lied and focused on wiggling my toes inside my boots. “Maybe some kind of territory marking.”
“If this really is a nest, then there could be hundreds in there.” Aussie growled beneath his mask, both brown eyes roaming over the dark windows, his gloved hands stroking the safety on his rifle. “We should wait for backup.”
He reached for his radio, but a part of me already knew what would happen. “Titan, this is Stalker Three Actual, we are on site. There is evidence of heavy anomaly concentration in this area. Requesting backup in order to secure and clear the building, how copy over?”
A stern voice blared through the headsets we all wore, cold and unfeeling, as those in charge always seemed to be.
“Stalker Three Actual, this is Titan, negative on the backup, all our available units are otherwise engaged at this time. Maintain your low impact status and continue observation. Titan out.”
Maintain our status. Fancy talk for ‘please don’t shoot the nightmarish creatures, we want to study them, even if they’re gnawing on your bloody windpipe.’
Aussie swore softly under his breath, turned, and made a small slashing motion across his throat, before pointing to his left eye.
As one, we all reached for the tiny cameras mounted to the molle webbing of our plate carriers and pushed the little power switches to the off position. This routine had been taught to me in secret, a tactic the mercs used whenever HQ wanted them to do something they knew was insane. It had saved the squad many times, even though it made corporate furious. Still, I wasn’t going to argue. If anything, the camera switching off made me feel slightly better, because I knew what it meant.
“Right gents, we’re going to do a hard knock.” Adjusting his weapon sling to give himself more room to operate, Aussie pulled out his rifle magazine to ensure it was topped off. “Once we’re through that door, you’re weapons free. We take it slow, room by room, until it’s clear. Got it?”
I stepped in line with the others as I’d been trained to do, fourth in the stack of five, with my carbine pointed at the dirt. My job was to take samples, but it would be much easier to take samples from corpses than live, snarling beasts.
Rocco twisted the rusted door handle and shoved it in with his shoulder.
The second my weapon light clicked on, I felt my intestines lurch.
Rusty red smeared the walls and clotted in the sawdust on the smooth concrete floor. Chunks of dried out skin lay scattered over everything, and clouds of black flies buzzed around the various tufts of hair stuck to bits of yellowed bone. Skulls had been heaped up in one corner like stashed toys in a child’s room, some small, some large, of rodents, cats, dogs, and deer. More than one looked human, and I noted the odd watch lying amongst the bones, or a discarded shoe, or a torn scrap of denim soaked in dried blood. More handprints adorned the walls of what had at one time been a small breakroom, but the room stood in empty silence, even as our boots shuffled to a crunching halt on the death-ridden floor.
“Clear.” Aussie grunted, and the word echoed across the lips of the mercs around me.
“Clear.” I parroted, and stacked back up on the next door with them, my heart roaring inside my chest. This had just been a small antechamber, a side room, a place where the fiends stored their kill and enjoyed throwing the scraps around like demonic monkeys. If they were still here, then the bigger room would have them, and have them by the dozen.
Aussie gave Rocco the signal, and he kicked the next door in with all his might.
Inky shadows swirled with dusty before my eyes, darker than it should have been with all the windows on the building. I blinked, letting my corneas adjust slowly, and as they did, my heart did a flip-flop inside my chest.
Macabre fires were strewn all over the wood-chip-covered floor, some piled on top of one another, a few with pale limbs still twitching. There were close to three dozen of them, eerie, white-eyed Puppets with their pale grayish skin and ragged clothes, hauntingly human in the dim glow of our weapon lights. Hazy eyes gazed sightless at some far-away scene, their horrific faces still, jaws hanging open in rigor mortis to reveal their stubby wooden teeth. Black spatters of blood cooled on the sawdust, and everywhere my light shone, I caught the glimmer of hundreds of spent brass rifle casings. Flies hummed greedily at their feast, and I swept my light over the corpses in a mix of relief, and disappointment.
So much for low impact.
“Looks like New Wilderness bit off more than they could chew.” Aussie nudged one of the few bodies in the room that wore a tattered black polo shirt with his boot. “This patrol must have gotten cornered and ran out of ammo. I figure the freaks who survived moved on before sunrise this morning. Smart little buggers.”
A soft rustle echoed behind me, and I turned to find Crow shining her weapon light on a body slumped in a far corner, half covered by a mound of dead Puppet’s.
The figure’s head bobbed . . . and it coughed.
All four of us stared at the torn, shattered girl wheezing through shredded lips, her bite-mark ridden arms refusing to move as she dragged each gargled breath down. Like the other members of the New Wilderness Ranger force, her empty gun lay not far away, and dark red stained the wood chips around her. She was scrawny and pale, almost gray from blood loss, and there were patches of her mud-colored hair that had been torn out by the roots. Despite this, I couldn’t help but notice how small she seemed, how young, and something in my chest twisted in pain at seeing the name ‘Melissa’ stitched on her blood-soaked polo shirt.
I lowered my rifle, both arms shaking with bewilderment.
She could be Laksmi’s age.
“Crow, wait don’t—”
Aussie’s low warning cut out as Crow threw herself on the wounded girl with startling speed. Her eyes blazed with a dark fire I hadn’t seen before, and the auxiliary fighter flung her rifle aside like she’d been starving for such a moment all day.
Frozen in horror, I could only watch her grasp the wounded ranger by her dark hair and tip her skull back against the cold sheet metal.
Slurk.
Steel flashed in the light, and fresh red blood sprayed across Crow’s gas mask visor.
She brought the knife down again and again, spraying blood with each stroke, and beneath the black rubber of her blood-soaked gas mask, Crow shrieked in a guttural exertion that dripped with hatred.
The wounded girl’s one remaining eyes flew open in shock and pain, and she stared at Crow in a pleading agony, while rivers of red drained down her shirt front from the trench in her neck. Crow pinned her to the wall, abyssal fury in her gaze, as if willing the ranger to know what she was doing.
Seconds later, the girl’s eye glazed over, and both her shattered legs stopped twitching.
Oh my God.
I shook my head to try and drive the panic from my brain. What had I just watched? Secretive or no, ELSAR had sent us in to protect people, to stop the anomalies from migrating, to contain the effects of the Breach. This wasn’t our mission. This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. This wasn’t war.
This was murder.
Crow’s head lowered, and she sucked in deep, slow pants, as though she’d exhausted herself.
“Crow.” Aussie crouched a few feet away from her, his tone soft, almost like someone dealing with a wild animal. “Private, hey, look at me.”
Tex and Rocco shifted on their feet, and I couldn’t move, too stunned to think or speak. Crow shook like a leaf, one hand still clutching the bloody knife, her panting ragged as if she fought waves of nausea with every breath.
Slowly edging close enough to give her shoulder a squeeze, Aussie pulled her upright on the balls of her feet. “Sarah.”
My mouth hung open. I’d never learned anyone else’s name here, only ever sharing my own with the squad, and something about the way he said it made Crow seem less like a statue, and more like . . . well . . . like a person.
Her head craned upward, and Crow’s shoulders slumped in an apologetic, half-ashamed grimace. “Sergeant, I—”
“I know.” Aussie patted Sarah’s back and nodded toward the door we’d come through. “Take a minute. Go get some air, we’ll finish this.”
He offered her a hand up, but Crow shook her head, climbing to her feet all by herself, and snatched her rifle to slowly shuffle out the door. She never so much as looked our way, and stepped callously around the other bodies as if they were stones lining a garden path.
“That’s the third time this month.” Tex kicked a clump of sticky red sawdust, his words spoken through gritted teeth. “Seriously, how long are you gonna let this go?”
“She lost everything, Tex. You were in Collingswood when the rockets came down.” Aussie gestured at the dead ranger with a weary sigh. “Can you blame her for hating them?”
Tex’s eyes narrowed into angry slits behind his visor mask, and he threw a frustrated hand into the air. “So we’re tolerating war crimes now? This girl was barely old enough to drive a car, she wasn’t a threat. We have to get Crow transferred before she kills more people.”
“And when she gets promoted?” Aussie’s tone turned angry, and he jabbed a finger at the door. “You know how the suits are. Command won’t help her, they’ll feed her worst side, and turn her loose. I’m not shipping her off to some corporate hack so they can turn her into a killing machine.”
“Why bother?” Glaring at them both, Tex spun on his heel, and headed for the door. “We already have.”
Rocco started forward, as if to say something, but Aussie caught him by the arm. “Leave it. I’ll talk to him later.”
Grudgingly, Rocco sauntered off, and Aussie slung his rifle to one side to beckon me closer. “Kaba. A moment?”
My knees almost knocked together, but I crossed the few yards to stand next to Aussie, the two of us standing over the murdered girl in anxious silence.
Aussie said nothing for a few moments, his toffee-colored eyes heavy with sadness.
“Corporate can’t know.” He met my gaze and swept an arm at the macabre room around us. “Not a word, about any of this. As far as we’re concerned, this building was empty when we got here.”
My lips stuck to each other under my mask, and I wished so very badly for a glass of water. “But what about the government? What if they find out? Congress would never stand for—”
“Kaba, who do you think gave ELSAR rocket-trucks?” Something in the way Aussie spoke made pain snake through my chest, as though I were watching a super-hero fall from the sky. “Why do you think we haven’t shelled New Wilderness into oblivion yet? Why do you think we haven’t just evacuated the rest of the county? This isn’t a rescue; it’s an experiment. A test to see what happens to a human anthill when it gets kicked. All we’re here to do, is keep the ants from figuring that out.”
Fury built in me, indignation welling up as hot tears in my eyes. “But you . . . you saved people. You tried to stop Crow. Why can’t we say anything?”
He put a heavy hand on my shoulder, as if Aussie could sense my torment, and hated to see me suffer as well. “If we try to stop them, they’ll glass the entire region with more warheads than God, and there won’t be anyone left to save. Crow wants vengeance, and corporate will let her cut throats if it means they get access to the freaks out here. But if she’s with us, she’ll only kill one or two each month, instead of a few hundred.”
Controlled murder.
Shame burned across my face, because deep down, I knew Aussie was right. Horrifying as it was, we had to keep Crow contained, just like the monsters roaming the countryside, instead of doing the right thing and putting a stop to the bloodshed. All because somewhere, in some high-rise office safe in the big city, men in suits wanted to harvest Barron County for all it was worth.
Giving me a light slap of encouragement on my upper arm, Aussie trudged past me toward the lumber mill doorway. “Let’s get go, mate. Gotta keep moving. Nightfall will be here soon.”
Standing alone in the shadow of the mill, I paused, and looked down one last time at the dead girl.
True bravery is being willing to do hard things for the good of others.
Shrugging off my pack, I pulled out my notepad, and met the hazy eye of the corpse.
Melissa. I wrote in the best cursive I could muster and scribbled the date beside her name.
Everything was upside down, but that didn’t mean that I had to be. I would remember her. I would remember them all, so that when this finally ended, the world could know the truth.
Monsters can never be so terrible as man.

I was 8 ft. up on the Wave (store vehicle) today removing a huge, heavy cardboard Outdoor Living overhead sign. My store is already understaffed. The 2 other people working with me for this reset were swamped with their own work so I’m trying my best to hurry and be careful and just get my work done before I meal violate and get coached. But my SD wanted that sign down immediately. I had 45 minutes so THEORETICALLY it was fine. Except there were 8+ Guests shopping this Back to School section. It’s not even set yet— there’s shit everywhere, it’s obviously not even stocked except some lunchboxes & stationary stuff (which, by the way, is also available in Stationary AWAY from the huge resetting Rear Seasonal area)… I’m trying to unhook these wires, not drop anything, get this thing down in pieces and take it to the baler so I can get to the time clock before I get in trouble. (Guests reading: we have to clock out every 6 hours or we get in huge trouble, it’s called a meal violation please look it up, we aren’t lazy just rushing to go on breaks we will literally get fired for too many of these)…. ANYWAY— PLEASE don’t shop in areas y’all can see we are clearly working on. It takes several days to reset a large area. Target is struggling right now and they’ve never closed sections off anyway but they’re definitely not going to start now that they’re bleeding out so much money. Just. Listen please stop shopping in spots you can see we are re-doing. Please. It isn’t safe. It isn’t polite. You do not understand how hard and frustrating it is to be carrying the workloads we do, with not enough staff, only to also have to leapfrog around y’all getting all up in the way, stepping in front of store vehicles, walking on trash, accidentally knocking stuff over. I almost dropped an overhead on some lady today digging through the Crayola bin, then she yelled at me for being in her way, in front of everyone so. Yeah. Cried in my car for lunch today….. STOP SHOPPING IN RESETTING AREAS…. IT IS NOT SET YET. PLEASE WAIT JESUS FFS 🤦🏿‍♀️ ok vent over 😣😭

This song came up on a Pandora station I made. Almost did a spit take, thinking about some of the posts I see on here.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=CwGrC0KicSo
lyrics by Corb Lund and Mike Plume, music by Corb Lund
He's been roundin’ off bolts since the age of fourteen Was that a five eighths or a nine sixteenths? He's got a metric socket that don't quite fit Well it'll wiggle just a little but it ain’t quite stripped The safety guard’s gone from his grinding machine He got a stiff paint brush he only kinda got clean He's the hired man, my neighbor and a cousin in law He's a jerry riggin’ fool, he got the tool for the job
Well it's vise grips for pliers, and pliers for a wrench A wrench for a hammer, hammers everything else It just don’t seem to make much difference I sure do like him but he’s hard on equipment I sure like you son, but you’re hard on equipment
His corners ain’t square and his floor ain’t level And he's always had trouble with the old tape measure His doors don’t close ‘cause the jamb ain’t plumb And he’s a Goddamn menace with an air nail gun They love to see him comin’ at the lumberyard store Fixed the leak in his roof with a two by four Drilled holes in his boards with the wrong kinda bit And when they don’t line up he blames the government
He got the whole front yard full of fix ‘em up cars Three don’t run and the rest won’t start Everything's fine with his rebuilt motor Except of course for the couple spare parts left over Baler wire tie downs goin’ down the road On two bald tires and an oversize load He ain't never read a manual ‘cause that's like cheatin’ He don't mind a little grease on his hands while he's eatin’
He’s got busted up knuckles, his thumb got bruised Jesus Christ was a carpenter, too
Edit…apologies for the unformatted text…text I copied had each line separated

Well, another New Year is upon us, and I for one seriously cannot be fuckin arsed carrying on anymore. Seriously, what's the bastard point? For the vast majority of people it means failed gym membership, failed diets, failed alcohol abstinence, failed... well, you get the idea. Nothing's new, nothing lasts and no one really changes. 2022 = shite. 2023 = more of the same shite.
Just another year of making the rich, richer, while the poor get ass fucked at every turn with a worse quality of life to boot!
We're struggling month to month. Raising our three year old daughter in a poxy 2 bed flat with my fiancée. It's getting smaller by the minute. I sometimes have to more like 15 things just to make a slice of fucking toast.
We both work the same wank job at a Supermarket - myself, full-time in the morning/afternoon, my Fiancée, part-time in the evening. Yes, that saves us money on childcare because one of us is always home, but it's still a pittance wage, barely able to cover basic necessities.
I've tried looking for a better paying job and nothing matches my interest, skillset and my timeframe. I've looked at government sponsored training in computer language coding, but "I earn too much" apparently. What that actually means is; "you're too old now we want the younger generation trained up for a return on our investment - so fuck off, biddie"
I'm 41 now, and leaving high school back in 1997 was an open the door and kick you fuck out at sixteen policy. No career advice. Technology in it's infancy. Fuck all prospects. Now I'm too long it the tooth to do fuck all about it!
This is why I fucking hated Christmas and new year gonna suck - more of the same ole shite. Christmas itself is nothing more than a fuckin popularity contest - who's got the best this and who's got the best that. I couldn't give a flying fuck!
My Mrs had been pissing me off, too. "I just want a nice Xmas for our daughter"
I've no problem with that, it's just the FUCKIN mither of it all. "Make sure you get this, make sure you do that" "Are you having a shower yet?"
I worked the entire week before Christmas with only Xmas day and Boxing day off before going back to work last Tuesday for another 5 days having New Years Day and the following day off. And after listening to fuckin' customers bitching all Christmas week, "Why have you not got this and why have you not got that?" Why are your prices so high?" Why have you no Advent Calendars left, it's only December 18th?!" Why why why why why!
Fuck off, twats!!
I'm tired. I just wanted to relax with my own family. Just maybe spend two fucking minutes trying out my dartboard that Santa brought me! But noooooooo. It's back to normal now, with fuck all to look forward too and fuck all time to do anything.
I completely understand why some people just get in their car and fucking vanish!
I wouldn't mind if I could actually get a decent sleep during the week, that might help my mental health improve.
I've been getting like 5 1/2 to 6 hours on a work night. That might sound like a lot to some people but to me it isn't. I need a minimum of 7 hours to function properly, eight being better. Everyone is different I suppose.
Myself and my partner work at the same shit hole Supermarket. I work from 7:00am till 3:00pm (Tues - Sat) and my partner works from 5:00pm till 10:30pm. (Tues - Fri)
When my partner finishes at 10:30 p.m. It's only a 5-minute drive home for her. But since we both work at said supermarket on the replenishment dept, she may pick up some bits after clocking out, which is fair enough.
The trouble is she also often clocks out sodding late. Like getting rid of her cardboard and plastic late on, instead of taking it to the baler earlier so she can finish on time. And she sometimes gets delayed by chatting to her dim colleagues for an excessive amount of time. So finishing at 10:30pm often turns into 11:00pm and beyond, before she gets home.
Now, I should be in bed at this point, having a good old snooze, And if I was, it wouldn't give a flying fuck what time she got home. But I'm still awake with our daughter. Why? Because they both take late naps during the day, between 3:00 and 4:00 p.m. Yes, 4pm with an hour before she starts work! I've had to wake them up many times!
My partner has trouble sleeping when she gets home from work. I don't know if it's insomnia or what, not a clue. She's too "wired" so she says, and needs time to unwind. She often goes to bed between 2:00am and 3:00am after watching Netflix or playing Switch games.
And it won't fucking help her to sleep when she's on her fucking phone in lay bed at gone 3am! Then sometimes fuck all has been done in the flat, because she's too knackered.
And I wouldn't mind but the little one goes to preschool 8am till 3am, Mon, Wed, Fri. (Which means I don't have the car now and have to walk like a sucker on Wednesday & Friday). But because the Mrs goes to bed late and has to get up early to drive the little one to school, she just comes back home and gets on the couch and goes back to sleep for half the day.
I had to have words with her a few weeks back because the state of the flat was atrocious. It was like looking after two kids on my own. Of course, I got the silent treatment for a little while until she admitted that yes, she's been very behind on the housework through exhaustion and low mood. I'm all for sharing housework between us, but at one point I was doing literally everything. It's improved since then though, but some aspects have started creeping back as of late. Like moving straight from the bed to the couch under a blanket and doing very little during the day.
She needs to see the doctor then. I had to. I changed my antidepressants last month as they wasn't working. I also quit drinking 113 days ago to save money and improve my mental health. Not that it's working. I've feel ten time worse for not drinking.
Sorry, I digress. My fiancée makes the point that when I finish at 3:00pm, I don't go straight to bed after an hour. Fucking stupid logic if you ask me.
My argument is that she should be finishing on time getting home ASAP and having an hour ish to chill. And instead of our daughter waking her up at 9am and beyond, my partner should be waking our daughter up between 7am - 8am. Then she would have an earlier nap in the day and go to bed earlier at night, giving me an hour to chill myself and get to bed earlier.
Ideally, I want my daughter to be in bed for between 7.30pm and 8pm, but it's usually 10.30 and beyond (because of that pissin nap). When I try to get her in bed any earlier than ten she just cries and cries - she's just not tired.
I don't get any personal time during the week whatsoever. I have a three grand gaming rig and it doesn't go on during the week.
I'm not asking for a lot, just one hour of personal time per night and to get in bed earlier.
So with being fucking knackered all the damn time, I've had enough. I just want to book in to a Hotel for a fucking week and rock back and forth in complete silence!!!
It gets even twattin' worse from New Years Day. A whole new year of the same fucking shit.
Why bother with anything?
Rant over.

I think I'm getting close. I can farm, ranch, shoot, skin and gut deer, fish, and have a van with solar panels, a stove, a toilet, plumbing, a bed and extra insulation. I constantly camp and know how to find and purify water. I have all the winter gear I need, know basic first aid and how to sew, cook, forage, etc. I have books on edible flora and have spent weeks in the wilderness at a time and lived on a ranch with wells for water. I know a fair amount about mechanical stuff, cars, tractors, balers, etc.
My plan is to stock up on food goods, seeds, learn more about my solar panels, get and guns and ammo, and learn about electrical wiring. I also know how to garden, ride a horse, take care of chickens and cattle. I can make splints for breaks, treat heatstroke and hypothermia, whittle, and crochet.
I want a few acres of land and to eventually build a cabin. I helped the Amish build one when I was younger and helped with a modern one this summer. I know how to dig and empty septic tanks. I have a location in mind and just need either
A) the money to buy the property outright
Or
B) squat illegally
I plan on doing runs to town once a week or once a month. There is a small airport nearby and a small town near it. I plan on having a years' worth of dried goods before making the jump. I know what vitamins and medicines I need. I plan on having a couple chickens, cat, dog, maybe two goats and a dairy cow. Maybe a small herd of alpacas for extra income. I also plan on woodworking and making stain glass mosaics for extra income. I'm physically fit and have no major illnesses, dental issues, etc. I am considering getting lasik for my eyes or just buying emergency pairs of glasses.
Tell me what I still need to do before I make the jump.

Anyone know what's causing this?
Logs: GIANTS Engine Runtime 9.0.0 (29243) 64bit MsStore (Build Date: Nov 3 2022)
Copyright (c) 2008-2021, GIANTS Software GmbH (giants-software.com), All Rights Reserved.
Copyright (c) 2003-2021, Christian Ammann and Stefan Geiger, All Rights Reserved.
Application: FarmingSimulator2022
Main System
CPU: Intel(R) Core(TM) i7-10870H CPU @ 2.20GHz
Memory: 16219 MB
OS: Windows NT 10.0 64-bit
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exe C:\Program Files\WindowsApps\GIANTSSoftware.FarmingSimulator22-Window10Edition_1.0.14.0_x64__fa8jxm5fj0esw\x64\FarmingSimulator2022Game.exe
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Farming Simulator 22
Version: 1.8.2.0 b21467
Available Languages: en de jp pl cz fr es ru it pt hu nl cs ct br tr ro kr ea da fi no sv fc
Language: en
Time: 2022-11-14 20:20:24
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Available mod: (Hash: 739656cc53b15205039941a0007276c3) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_CollectStrawAtMissions
Available mod: (Hash: f9597a230c2afef2343ea1d2dfb5cc0b) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Colonial_House
Available mod: (Hash: afd0940faf8737d98a46240802912704) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_compositeHallPack
Available mod: (Hash: cdd01966ded75a4843381c5f74cc3309) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_ConsumablePurchaseStation
Available mod: (Hash: 99f29b0913327fdd96639c47107e7baf) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Contracts_Plus
Available mod: (Hash: e5dda505145eda14065f585ae06a905b) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_cowshed3_0stable
Available mod: (Hash: 2af1265c9eeb29024820cb7c068806aa) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_CowShedOl
Available mod: (Hash: 14ca43d5311377aff92ec964ecec5a77) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_CowshedsPack2
Available mod: (Hash: cca7bb7aa09684d09a450160e793d3ed) (Version: 1.6.0.0) FS22_crosetto_SPL_pack_crossplay
Available mod: (Hash: c668a857173bc64f00d7d84d761dcc2d) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_DecorativeDetailsPack
Available mod: (Hash: 135d16a1ea5d1c0ed83b4e60b6132a83) (Version: 2.0.0.0) FS22_DeutzSeries7_8
Available mod: (Hash: 4eb5e79175ae491b7c67cb18eb2adb95) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_DeutzTTV7Series
Available mod: (Hash: 152e9bb1bc2b40c941374fbef8ef2e14) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_DryCornAddon_crossplay
Available mod: (Hash: 5b2ae1c8805c19fa88c9a489d11f5d33) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_DustyLandsExtension
Available mod: (Hash: ea52bca90fc7773affe3e572aa5523a9) (Version: 1.2.0.0) FS22_DutchContractorShed
Available mod: (Hash: 0ca40e0fccde04b627ba2556522cf602) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_DutchShedPack
Available mod: (Hash: 4982d898e1e3c14f267bf912f1d6028d) (Version: 1.0.0.2) FS22_EarthFruitStorage
Available mod: (Hash: 7021fb69b4bd348540ef8da3930c1a07) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_English_Shed_Pack
Available mod: (Hash: 2f1ed81ddf2a607b4eb88ef58dfc220d) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_estrela32
Available mod: (Hash: cd3beb5fe31cb3dc58773aff377de3e1) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_EUfactories
Available mod: (Hash: 2db8ed2123884d31baf3a9cb441e9846) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_exhaustExtension
Available mod: (Hash: e06c7b29c3bd7f117eecdc6a8e75601a) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Farmall_460_560
Available mod: (Hash: 6ffbda67c1b990f8a5340d6baf77ce41) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_FarmHouseBig
Available mod: (Hash: 845faa98d1626bb1912843772dcd2ae9) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_FarmSilosDirty
Available mod: (Hash: 12953104fb3d39fffda07ea98063ec8d) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_FencelessHusbandries
Available mod: (Hash: e026777ce43c09ddde40b2a5e1c9f27e) (Version: 1.0.2.0) FS22_Fendt500Vario
Available mod: (Hash: 55ab4aa69cb62c4b52c8055bd3493e1d) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Fendt700VarioS4
Available mod: (Hash: e1a58b4ba682bd117f822e2b3c4d35d6) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_FendtCargoPack
Available mod: (Hash: e97b1cdbad6b63f08e88e1036cc6a04c) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_FendtTigoXR75
Available mod: (Hash: 4603fd94119b4955499ff92f4d9b753b) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_FendtVarioPack
Available mod: (Hash: 50173c8b5c32a32f9d6a04e54fdf70cb) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_FendtVarioTMS
Available mod: (Hash: 840d9c4a3afa08d9fb13ed02537d7260) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_FendtVario_700Series_crossplay
Available mod: (Hash: d4c02cfa41f521c23667fadddbd729ed) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Fendt_weights
Available mod: (Hash: 4dd8e22b6ae716d7ab75ce36d5a11fee) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Fiat1300DT_Rebuild
Available mod: (Hash: 97b3d757e0d94c5cba00680abe42f8a7) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Fiat682
Available mod: (Hash: c367043bcae54d43c0c7b52c52d42785) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Fiatagri160_55
Available mod: (Hash: 3ef32a26fd5974fc465cd755f4b206f5) (Version: 1.0.0.2) FS22_Fiatagri180_90
Available mod: (Hash: 63860e3724ae36ec35a40c396ba88c97) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Fiat_605c
Available mod: (Hash: 188465d104253104be468d1d497f5237) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_FirewoodProcessor
Available mod: (Hash: 755ad0a88279004bf07d32e8999c3e45) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_fireworks
Available mod: (Hash: bb267a94a6fedddf98f591e5fdfa6c0d) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_Fishfarm
Available mod: (Hash: 877b4fbad6144f73408e07b37c640b28) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Flexicoil_ST820_MultiFunction
Available mod: (Hash: 254b17c9d9cae9acffadbd74543c375d) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_FlieglTimberRunnerAutoload
Available mod: (Hash: 2c2b391551b548b077c85c27a0cd6315) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_Fliegl_LNCP
Available mod: (Hash: bac5b12dbbb0f4d86ccf8f0c5f5fb884) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_foil_tunnel
Available mod: (Hash: 7ee0cf5548544e977fada5d0f31a59f5) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_foragePickup
Available mod: (Hash: ad8eb56a25ee1557d95a51c2eae4df5b) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Fortschritt_ZT30x
Available mod: (Hash: b909366043e2fa5c3a6fc509518a451e) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_Fruehling
Available mod: (Hash: 90b49da4f115ed4499bd77914e512116) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Fruit_Greenhouse
Available mod: (Hash: 4073b57c6ca50eff397b02721707a198) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_GarageSolar
Available mod: (Hash: 693ebbb307ff3ec0bc335b92b912baf4) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Gas_Station_With_Daily_Income
Available mod: (Hash: 6ffdecd002025c6d62206a09d01ff604) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_grapeOrchard
Available mod: (Hash: 7683d6359d4bce043ccc0006d37c7f75) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_grape_olive
Available mod: (Hash: 15adafce7038589ebfdd9d004d49b728) (Version: 2.1.6.0) FS22_guidanceSteering
Available mod: (Hash: 433c45f2f6e0b2f8b2c331df31e7609a) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_hatzenbichlerTerminator18
Available mod: (Hash: 20633c0992b0da04150c7862d8384175) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Hessian_Farm
Available mod: (Hash: 755a16ca4b84520eea407fc3f0564c5e) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_horschProntoDC
Available mod: (Hash: ab9ffc8770bf4cd0dad516054e106296) (Version: 2.1.0.0) FS22_HouseOldPackage
Available mod: (Hash: 86e23b4966ee76687997ac4d26901915) (Version: 1.2.0.0) FS22_HusqvarnaEnduroPack
Available mod: (Hash: 9fcd0c211b8b5834ad01cd27642685dc) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_InGround_Liquid_Manure_Tanks
Available mod: (Hash: 3211cbb8920394ee8a17c9fdf6919551) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_International1455XL
Available mod: (Hash: 5d291056d257c6317fb7a290d7a24487) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_ITRunnerPack2433HD_2633HD
Available mod: (Hash: ca1a908dbb083b5f494ecd80e2e99b5d) (Version: 1.2.0.3) FS22_ITS_AVANT
Available mod: (Hash: dd78c35b5750cae4fe8121df2b8de5da) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_ITS_DriveLaner
Available mod: (Hash: 892977ad26bbcbbf28100d28daa98f7e) (Version: 1.1.0.3) FS22_ITS_Kahlbacher
Available mod: (Hash: 7f2236faca86bf255f6f0f76aac21817) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Jacto_UniportPlanter500
Available mod: (Hash: 34070443bd831333416fee592a6945ce) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_JD_1775NT_2022
Available mod: (Hash: b29d8bbe5d6725c44a6c1b0f353903ec) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_JD_x9_1100
Available mod: (Hash: b9850706e31d1a87bcd12efd3db024f9) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_jenzBA725
Available mod: (Hash: 024e2e84e367c54edd7556fb655c1e32) (Version: 1.2.2.0) FS22_JohnDeere2410
Available mod: (Hash: 2f8b2fae07c71864b337c4921e84fec4) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_JohnDeere3765
Available mod: (Hash: 812fc9ddcefcca60dd1bed9ee2805102) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_JohnDeere7010Series
Available mod: (Hash: 4293347cc84e4f6f9552ff27f6121b3f) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_JohnDeere8Series2020
Available mod: (Hash: 1d62dfba44716fc8950f63820a884dce) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_johnDeere948LII
Available mod: (Hash: 5fba7a3a784dc5c3b8c7394ff0fd1f96) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_johnDeere959MH
Available mod: (Hash: 041343f0806e628264a4c66141e56a25) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_JohnDeereDealerSign
Available mod: (Hash: 779c32c99fd4b9920e8cdcf534f52d8f) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_JohnDeere_Gator_Pack
Available mod: (Hash: c046c28489d153e33f8d03b33a6c1770) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_John_Deere_CS_770
Available mod: (Hash: 9e47261f72a1b60a1b3d5f115a57d16e) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_JoskinCargo
Available mod: (Hash: b65f8125692dd71e53e52ad7a90b947a) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_JoskinDrakkarPack
Available mod: (Hash: 127017fbec2e398c445585d8ba4f0f4a) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_kdvBalerPack
Available mod: (Hash: cdb87d548acd7c5160c4aafd9f6f3a13) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_koeckerlingVector
Available mod: (Hash: 732db358bbef7fb9014d0a6b7d538aba) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_kotteGarantPack
Available mod: (Hash: 7e22eda6d3c9c5bddd7b825b1b8508a4) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_KroegerTAW_Package
Available mod: (Hash: bca2c3b7dd8c9f7ef9e428db71149dba) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_KuhnAxis402
Available mod: (Hash: d346c5e2428ddfc2273ec398fa204b07) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_kuhnDiscolanderXM
Available mod: (Hash: c0404d691a71d45cd376d519baf4b753) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_kuhnVariMaster153
Available mod: (Hash: 53f528a2c00f07e9bc627463d066ac3d) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_kvernelandDGll12000
Available mod: (Hash: 8294a350374777121df3c09e592fa948) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_kvernelandIPlough2500
Available mod: (Hash: d818b995ea9c102ee16a075ba26eb012) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_kvernelandTLXGeospread
Available mod: (Hash: a5139d25f2701e2695a2191ced7244ab) (Version: 1.0.5.0) FS22_LagerSilo_Placeable
Available mod: (Hash: 7eeeb67c1ffda38ab1ef63a1c8aec533) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_lamborghini_R6_250
Available mod: (Hash: 0333c28273dcbdef55efbba30f517afe) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_LandRoverDefender90
Available mod: (Hash: 4597f6f46e7b8c3315020128e6ce3b2e) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_largeCowshed3_3
Available mod: (Hash: ef79509b1b080691b91e97832c834259) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_LeaseToOwn
Available mod: (Hash: ad313166ecbad5bb4fb434f80eb24b58) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_LessMotorBrakeForce
Available mod: (Hash: 62be9d77996dd04369aaaf4234764543) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_LimeAndSugarbeetCutProduction
Available mod: (Hash: 90fa6f956486200ceb6006f5c8390ad9) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_LimeFactory
Available mod: (Hash: ead582e83a1f5b5a4ec315e95c8497d7) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Lizard1959
Available mod: (Hash: cbbcd7088390a355ab5ea62e8cec4833) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_lizard320Excavator
Available mod: (Hash: e463181963787855b0d11d23a2347cce) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_lizardbunkersilo
Available mod: (Hash: 418a92f0c308272c1f814c885507d590) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_lizardCarTrailer
Available mod: (Hash: 5ceb24864f9fba31f717404caa1deb38) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_LizardContainer
Available mod: (Hash: 81678303a3ab8c3e24c960170af08f5d) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_LizardFamedChisel_Pack
Available mod: (Hash: a7ad8f1575feaa672e2e9a6632cd95f5) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_lizardMultiSnowBucket_console
Available mod: (Hash: e3742c23e6307162cb77d24f7cbeddd0) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Lizard_17221_crossplay
Available mod: (Hash: b5658e7bcdb062774ab4049907e97193) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_LIZARD_44202
Available mod: (Hash: e7ee72d5708a747c334435f1f39b1d21) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Lizard_MKV_Universal_Pack
Available mod: (Hash: 3d4bfef4107423c09c50e761518af6c2) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Lizard_MT
Available mod: (Hash: 84e136d8e2d4e6a0057fe281b53899bb) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Lizard_SM72_SM82
Available mod: (Hash: 1e8d9fa73793de76f11765a35c8ae095) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_loadingRampWithDockleveler
Available mod: (Hash: 4f00e1e4b5ee7d818fb718824d2d4beb) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_LowCostSilos
Available mod: (Hash: ac207478b23fe0a5edcd0f3ace268fc7) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_manTGS_26480TankPack
Available mod: (Hash: 1a0fe3fb0095eee6b1334eb76fd657ef) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_ManualRefueling
Available mod: (Hash: ab8bbef86f6aeaa746fbe37e8a264749) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_MAN_Agrotruck
Available mod: (Hash: e954b353cbe18e5dead213dfd0179880) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_MAN_TGX_Semi_Pack
Available mod: (Hash: dd10caedfd41e030cc51d3ce1a2e4d72) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_MapleSyrupProduction
Available mod: (Hash: 1f699b05316f10a68569f23639437d54) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_MasseyFerguson_7700NextEditon
Available mod: (Hash: 79017e4509768699ec1acfb3891c66a8) (Version: 1.2.0.0) FS22_MasseyFerguson_7700S
Available mod: (Hash: 4e611cdec306a99f1c6390660695f1f4) (Version: 1.2.0.0) FS22_MasseyFerguson_8700S
Available mod: (Hash: b57bebeb35e2ac9c2410e7f14363e362) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_MasseyFerguson_8S
Available mod: (Hash: 89e1acdaa047491e8605b9d2ad872c86) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_MasseyFerguson_LS2200_Pack
Available mod: (Hash: c8215c0c7fdf3569c44072ab955bb48e) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_MasseyFerguson_SmallClassics
Warning: Duplicate l10n entry 'configuration_beacon' in mod 'FS22_MasseyFerguson_SmallClassics'. Ignoring this definition.
Available mod: (Hash: be60fb741987aab423b00470352628d9) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_Medium_Garage
Available mod: (Hash: 1649ad75c747b63cb544fab69241ae2f) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_MerloP417
Available mod: (Hash: 273b0081a889878f442117a13da84141) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Metsjo_MetaQ75_1360Multi
Available mod: (Hash: 0f429cceb91b13d5656c6b1b18b86978) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_MF711
Available mod: (Hash: 10f135b8e389c20ba6a1255a23a719a4) (Version: 1.4.0.0) FS22_MF7619
Available mod: (Hash: db5d396bcc7224966fae87e3b5a8c8d5) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_mobileFuelTank
Available mod: (Hash: fa1b2491ad666d8c96959d824794d381) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_MPsignPack
Available mod: (Hash: bb5c1dfd68e7e12c6168cfbba63f1fec) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_MTZ_1221_RAT
Warning: Duplicate l10n entry 'configuration_roof' in mod 'FS22_MTZ_1221_RAT'. Ignoring this definition.
Available mod: (Hash: 4c6a338bb9f5d1f4f2864e20d16416cc) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_Multifruit_Buying_Station
Available mod: (Hash: 283b87dc438817d010e2780cf85d7400) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_newHollandDiscbine313
Available mod: (Hash: f13e10fddc5ea5f9dccf9b44873a9f6c) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_newHollandSP400F
Available mod: (Hash: 2f79ac5fe14bb31b68b1c7a332bcf776) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_NewHollandT8
Available mod: (Hash: cf314d52a7c43d76f0d3a811092f8ad5) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_NewHollandTM_series
Available mod: (Hash: 78db0e20f443886e999ab8d188a34d37) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_NewHollandWeight
Available mod: (Hash: c5d29133da757bbc741a36c6ddd86ccb) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_NewHolland_70_series
Available mod: (Hash: 898b4e02a01525430f7fb1552e31a6e0) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Newholland_Cr1090
Available mod: (Hash: 24bdf6419ae133b2c31dd4936019f8a2) (Version: 1.3.0.0) FS22_NewHolland_L95_Fiatagri
Available mod: (Hash: af80fd80a7873cf5c202d111a8b43e02) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_New_House
Available mod: (Hash: 6269164a8833d5cfdfb49e770881047a) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_OldDEPigShed
Available mod: (Hash: 0b1c6f1fcc88da1e9318c6c44743e931) (Version: 1.1.0.0) FS22_OldMill
Available mod: (Hash: 06c1779bb74ae1114fe06b2672508603) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_oliveOrchard
Available mod: (Hash: cb15615d78f614fc52b2942d52392545) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_Olives
Available mod: (Hash: dff3186014b1909c42eef73484d22f49) (Version: 1.1.0.1) FS22_openAirGarden
Available mod: (Hash: 7b6460c86aa511efaa2734cbd60271ef) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Pack_Aguas_Tenias_Platforms
Available mod: (Hash: df64c6f23ca595e49e6f3ea8056336a8) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_Pack_Autoload
Available mod: (Hash: d28c0bf1cca0e18be1589d54368582a3) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_Pack_Neuero_Silo_Multifruit
Available mod: (Hash: 778b55eb8e2ce7f84bf1dc8ed150de79) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_PalettAndBarrelProduction
Available mod: (Hash: 85e1c006ebe5766ee6e6607321641b40) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_placeableBeeHive
Available mod: (Hash: 3838b59c9f0426d77d5615682657ed7a) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_poettingerImpress125FCPro
Available mod: (Hash: e04ea0de00e46bca47c4a861ec76c3e3) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_PoettingerMex5
Available mod: (Hash: ca4fa9d92571815a52b5f07b1474d873) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Poettinger_200VCProMultiBaler
Available mod: (Hash: 7803f57dc2e75bd0a0363f686f3f856f) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_Polowa
Available mod: (Hash: 653c3b772448ec14e182a4ef29adb6b0) (Version: 1.2.0.0) FS22_PowerTools
Available mod: (Hash: e1d9d0c0ba910379353900f34ffb5025) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_Profihopper
Available mod: (Hash: b641bd216a6a206b5052d5701b52f922) (Version: 1.0.0.1) FS22_RandonDolly
Available mod: (Hash: dace1a0ecde3678240430385e7174613) (Version: 1.0.1.0) FS22_REAcog
Available mod: (Hash: 834556d228bc3248ade1495009ff1e86) (Version: 1.2.5.2) FS22_realDirtColor
Available mod: (Hash: fac7731901e2f4168149cd25d0aa2729) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_realDirtColorTracks
Available mod: (Hash: 2dd8158aafdfde86fe2d552c2d46f2df) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_realDirtFix
Available mod: (Hash: 822bc605a4d613b8afc16a908bffec9e) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_realDirtParticles
Available mod: (Hash: 0f9668a5daf40b4b7198effb215270b3) (Version: 1.0.0.0) FS22_RealisticRefueling
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2022-11-14 20:21 Loaded 'vehicle' specializations
2022-11-14 20:21 Loaded 'placeable' specializations
2022-11-14 20:21 Loaded vehicle types
2022-11-14 20:21 Loaded placeable types
2022-11-14 20:21 Info: Loaded construction brush types

From the memoires of Detective Joan Harvey, 2007:
It was a cold October morning when I woke up to my cellphone ringing on my bedside table.
Begrudgingly, I rolled to the side of the bed and answered.
The voice on the other end spoke with an apologetic tone, "Detective, I'm sorry to disturb you this late, but we have another one."
That was the call I got when it officially set in. This wasn't just a few freak occurrences.
This was a rash.
This was a pattern.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, cursed and climbed out of bed, groaning. My alarm clock said 3:44 AM. I'd been sleeping no more than four hours, and I was already getting back up to handle a case.
Part of me regretted telling the department to call me immediately if any more cases came in following this description. Sure, it was the right thing to do, but it felt like shit getting up in the middle of the night to deal with it.
I threw on yesterday's pants and socks, then grabbed a fresh shirt out of my drawer. It was in bad need of being ironed, but I hadn't had time this week, or the last.
My feet still ached from my heels, so I grabbed a pair of flats, threw on a jacket and headed out the door.
I knew I was going to have to drown myself in coffee to make it through this call.
Arriving at the hospital, I flashed my badge at the receptionist and told them what I was here for.
They gave me the room number and opened the security door for me.
When I arrived, the door was cracked, and I could hear medical staff talking inside, so I knocked on the door lightly before entering.
In the hospital bed was a heavily medicated man in his early twenties, covered in bandages from head to toe.
One nurse was tending to his bandages while another was checking his vitals.
"Hello, I'm Detective Joan Harvey, with the State Bureau of Investigation. I'm here because this man's injuries are similar to two others who were reported in recent history. Can I ask some questions about the victim?"
The nurses looked up at me with surprise.
"I'll tell you what I can." The older of the two replied, "I'm the admitting nurse."
"Why don't you give me a quick rundown on what you know." I told her.
"Patient's name is Eric Smallies. We admitted him about ninety minutes ago to the ER with multiple lacerations covering most of his body. He was experiencing severe blood loss, and in extreme pain. We stitched the wounds we could and gave him a heavy dose of pain medication. The doctors are debating whether it would be best to put him in a medically induced coma until he has had time to heal, due to the severity of the trauma." She explained.
"Any idea what might have been used to do this?" I asked.
"If I had to guess, a sharp knife. Maybe a razor or box cutter." She answered.
"And you've run his bloods? Any drugs? Anything on the tox screen? I can't imagine he sat still for it." I inquired.
"Nothing. His girlfriend said he woke up like this and started screaming." The nurse informed me.
"Girlfriend? Is she here?" I asked.
"She was when we admitted him, but the cops who were here took her for questioning. I assume they suspect she was involved. I just don't see how one woman could have done this without drugging or restraining him." She replied.
"Any sign of restraints being used? Bruised wrists or ankles?" I followed up.
"No, there's no sign of any additional trauma. No bruises, scrapes, scratches, rope burn; no defensive wounds, nothing. It's almost like he let it happen." She told me grimly.
Maybe some kind of cult? I wondered to myself.
"Has he said much?" I asked.
"Other than screaming a lot, he just agreed with his girlfriend that he woke up like this. We got him medicated pretty quickly. The severity of trauma here is second only to full body burn victims. Running an IV was its own adventure." She explained.
"So I'm assuming I won't get to question him any time soon." I stated rhetorically.
"No ma'am, I expect he will be medicated for at least a week. Once the pain subsides, I can only imagine the itching will be its own hell." She looked at the bandaged victim with a mix of horror and sympathy.
"Any pictures of the wounds?" I asked.
"No, ma'am, we were in a rush to treat." She answered.
"Would you do me a favor? Next time you do his bandages, give us a call. I'd like a forensic photographer nearby." I explained.
"Yes, detective. Anything else we can help with?" She asked.
"I think that's all for now. I have to go find his girlfriend." I stepped out into the hall and called the station. They let me know the girlfriend was being held there for questioning.
"Keep her a little longer, I'm on my way."
I arrived at the station a half past five, as the sun was starting to creep up on the horizon. I'd already finished one large coffee with a double shot of espresso and was ready for another.
Outside the interrogation room were the two officers who had already interviewed her.
"What's she told you?" I asked.
"She just keeps saying he woke up like that. We sent a couple guys to their house to check for signs of a struggle." The officer explained.
"Do you think she did it? Any signs of a fight on her? Blood?" I asked.
"Plenty of blood, but she just helped her boyfriend, who looks like he lost a fight with a weedwacker, get to the hospital, so that's to be expected. No bruises, scratches, or anything else you'd expect from trying to harm a resisting man who has at least forty pounds and twelve inches on her." He explained.
"Could it have been someone else? Maybe she paid someone? Any reason to believe she's complicit?" I asked.
"No idea. It seems the most likely reason, but still leaves more questions than answers. If the guy even says he woke up like that, they're both lying to hide something." The officer told me.
"Sounds about right. Okay, I'm going to have a chat with her." I told them.
"Go right ahead, but good luck, she's fried. The girl is a wreck. She's had multiple breakdowns already." The officer explained.
"I'll go easy." I answered, and stepped into the room.
"Julia Gottier, is it?" I asked, closing the door and walking over to the table.
She didn't look up. She was gently touching the bloody cuffs of her night shirt, and nodded shortly in acknowledgement.
"I'd like to ask you a few more questions. I know you've already talked to several officers. We want to do our best to find out who hurt your boyfriend.
Can you tell me where you two were last night?" I asked.
She took a deep breath, and with a shaking voice, and a short attitude, explained, "We went on a date in the woods. We did a little hike, picnic, campfire, then we came home. Nothing weird. No alcohol, no drugs. I already told the other cops." She answered.
"Right, I'm sorry, I just want to make sure I understand the story.
Did you make any stops after?" I asked.
"No, we came right home." She replied.
"And did you see or meet any other people in the woods?" I asked.
"A couple other hikers. There weren't too many, it's a week night and it's getting cold out." She answered.
"Does your husband have any enemies?" I asked.
"No one I can think of. Eric is a shut in. He barely does anything outside work, and he's work from home. I can't imagine anyone would be upset enough with him to hurt him. Even if they were, I've been with him all night. No one came into our house. He just woke up like this. Isn't it possible this is some weird medical condition? Maybe it's something new?" She sounded distraught, grasping for answers.
"Maybe, but understand, that's quite a claim. We have to rule out any kind of foul play first. No medical condition like this has ever been observed.
Your boyfriend's wounds look distinctly like knife wounds, and you were the only one seen with him in the past twelve hours. You do understand how this looks to us?" I asked.
"Of course I fucking understand how it looks!" She answered. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know you all think I did it! How do you think I did all that!? Do you think he just sat still while I carefully cut up his entire body? I'm guessing you think I drugged him!" She screamed.
"I don't. His tox screen was clean. Here's the thing, Julia, I just can't imagine any other way he got hurt.
Was your boyfriend ever prone to self harming?
Could these have been self-inflicted?"
I knew they couldn't have been, due to the extensive wounds on areas he couldn't have reached himself, but I wanted to hear what she would say. If she tried to push the narrative that they were self-inflicted, that would be extremely suspicious.
She seemed deep in thought, then looked up, "No. Eric never showed signs he would hurt himself. As far as I could tell, he was happy and never dealt with anything like that. I don't think he could have done it himself."
Well, I gave her an out, and she didn't lunge for it, even knowing this, I was still left with her as the only suspect.
Maybe she was telling the truth?
"Can you give me the location of the woods you went to? The trail you walked, any places or landmarks you stopped at?" I asked.
She pulled out her phone and slid it across the table to me, "It's just this trail, we took the loop. If you follow it, that's the path we took."
I noted the location on my phone.
"Okay Julia, listen. Unfortunately your house is an active investigation. Is there anyone you could stay with for a couple nights?" I asked.
"My parents, maybe." She answered.
"Why don't you give them a call, I'm going to talk to the other officers about releasing you. I'm going to have to ask you to remain available, and not leave the state. You understand it would look bad."
"My boyfriend is in the hospital, I'm not going anywhere." She answered.
"Great. I'll take my leave. I wish you both a speedy recovery." I left and conferred with the other officers.
We were split on whether or not she did it, but no one could explain how.
The sun was rising.
It was past 6 am when I headed over to the trail that Julia had given me. On the way I called the team which had been investigating the house.
"The bed and surrounding area looks like a murder scene, that's for sure. I'm surprised the guy lived." The investigator told me.
"Any signs of forced entry?" I asked.
"None. Doors and windows were sealed up tight."
"Any signs of a weapon?" I asked.
"We've checked all the knives in the kitchen, most are too dull to make the cuts we saw on the victim. We found his pocket knife, but it's clean of blood, and has not been washed recently." They told me.
"How can you tell?" I asked.
"Dirt, wood dust and chips all over it." He replied.
"I see. I'm assuming you've already gone through the trash. Check the yard, any holes in the walls, basement, toilet, attic. See if he has razor blades around. Did we check out the girlfriend's car?"
"Yeah, we went through it when she was being held, with her permission. Nothing in there, just a lot of blood in the passenger seat." They replied.
"Maybe she dumped it on the way to the hospital. Have someone trace the route and see if there's any nearby rivers, ponds, anywhere she might have gone to dump it." I suggested.
"It's all woods out here. She could have thrown it anywhere." They answered.
Fuck, they were right, "Okay just stick with the house and surrounding area then. I want to check out another lead." I hung up, and stared at the entrance to the hiking trail. I wasn't really sure what I expected to find here, but it was the last place they had been, maybe there was something more they weren't telling me?
I was thankful for picking my flats today, as I started down the root-covered path. The dirt was hard packed, but covered in long pine needles which made it slick.
After about forty minutes, I came to what must have been the spot they stopped for their fire and picnic. There was a recently extinguished fire pit with two logs functioning as seats beside it.
I started to circle the site looking for anything unusual. Walking to the edge, I looked into the woods for any signs that they were watched or followed; scuffs in the leaves, broken branches, anything, but nothing stood out.
As I circled the campfire site, I came to a tree that caught my attention. Freshly carved in the tree were the names Eric + Julia.
It was strange; the sap had begun to harden, dripping from the deep gouges in the tree, and it was as red as blood.
Seeing nothing of note here, I followed their path the rest of the loop back to my car and sat down in the driver's seat. My feet and legs ached, and out of a sense of unease, I locked my door, then leaned back my seat to rest a moment while the heater reinvigorated my cold limbs.
The two previous victims had recently gone hiking as well. Could there be some kind of stalker in the woods?
They were both couples, too.
Perhaps some kind of jealous aggression?
I sat up and grabbed my phone, then called the department, "Do we have the details on the first two related cases? Both also reported recently being in the woods, did they disclose where?"
I waited while they ran the records. They were able to give me the woods recently visited by one of the two previous victims. I asked them to follow up with the other and call me as soon as they knew, and headed off to the second area. It was about thirty minutes away in a nearby town.
I stopped for some breakfast and another coffee on my way, and picked up a pair of hiking boots from my house. I wasn't going to check three hiking trails in my dress loafers.
The previous cases were two and six weeks old.
It wasn't likely that I would find any remaining evidence, but I needed to be sure.
The second trail was much more remote and overgrown. It was a zig-zagging line of switchbacks up a steep, rocky hillside. It would have been a monumental effort to track or stalk a pair of hikers out here without being noticed.
After nearly an hour, I had reached the top. Thoroughly winded, I found a rock perched on the edge of the overlook and sat to catch my breath.
Quitting smoking was a great idea, though I couldn't help but wonder how much better I would feel right now if I hadn't spent ten years burning my lungs up.
As I looked around at the hilltop landing, my eyes fell upon another tree with carved bark.
PV + MT.
They matched the second victim and his girlfriend, Peter Vanderburgh and Michelle Timmons.
I stood and approached the tree. It was definitely a fairly fresh carving, and similar to the first, the sap had congealed into a crimson red, this one more dry and scab-like.
Perhaps a fellow hiker was not a fan of tree carvings?
But that still didn't explain how they managed to cover every inch of the victim's body in cuts while they slept.
A cold breeze had started sweeping up the hillside, and grey clouds were rolling in from the west.
That's when I had the strangest feeling that I was being watched.
I turned and looked behind me but nothing was there, just tree trunks receding back into a line of evergreens.
I started back down the trail as a cold rain picked up, and the sky darkened further.
There was an uneasiness in these woods; a feeling of being unwelcome, and the continued sense that I was being watched followed me on my descent.
The trail was slick from the rain, pine needles and fallen leaves, forcing me to walk slowly.
That's when I heard the crunch of footsteps descending the hill behind me.
I turned and looked back to see a large man in a black coat and dark jeans coming down the hill behind me.
I didn't know why, but I got an uncomfortable feeling.
I hadn't seen him on the way up. Had he been there watching me the whole time?
Or was there another trail I hadn't seen?
I continued down the hill with a quickened pace, but the unstable ground, coupled with my growing fatigue from the first hike, were causing a struggle.
The man behind me on the trail, however, seemed unaffected by the ground condition or weather, and was gradually catching up.
I quickened my pace past what I felt was safe, and started stumbling down the hill in a half jog. Landing hard on my heel, I felt a painful shock run up my leg.
I thought I was fine, until a few steps later, a hot pain in my ankle demanded my attention.
I stopped and moved off the path.
As I bent over to rub my ankle, I reached inside my coat and unbuckled my sidearm.
The man would surely catch up while I was recovering.
He continued to approach, fifty, twenty, ten feet, until he was right next to me.
"Hello! Strange day for a hike!" He said as he approached.
"I like to go on weekdays, less people." I responded.
"Is everything okay? You hurt your foot?" He asked.
"Yeah, just hurt my ankle a little back there. Taking a break to recover." I answered, keeping my eyes on him, and preparing to grab my weapon if needed.
"Here!" He held out his hiking stick to me, "it's a bit big for you, but it should help get you back down safely!" He explained in a friendly voice.
"I'm okay, thank you." I answered, staring down the winding trail ahead of me, I still had a long way to go.
"No, no, no, I insist!" He extended the top towards me.
If he wanted to hurt me, he could have…
I reached out and took the top, and he let go.
"Thank you. What's your name?" I asked.
"Evan Littleriver, and you?"
"Joan." I answered.
"Joan! Well I hope I didn't startle you, I can imagine it can be uncomfortable for a woman to be out here alone with a big man stomping down the trail behind her." He smiled.
"No, it's okay." I answered.
"Well I'll tell you what, Joan, I can help you back to your car if you'd like, or I can go on ahead if you'd prefer to walk back on your own."
"Why don't you walk with me Evan, I'd like to ask you a few questions." I answered.
"Sure thing! Whenever you're ready." He responded pleasantly.
I put some weight on my ankle, and it seemed okay, but I leaned on the walking stick for added security.
"Do you walk this trail often, Evan?" I asked as we started moving.
"Oh yes! This is the trail of my ancestors!" He answered.
"Your ancestors? You mean you're Native American?" I asked.
"Yes! I know it's not immediately obvious looking at me, but I've got quite a bit of Pequot in me!" He answered, "My grandfather taught me a lot of Native Americans traditions. He'd take me on walks through these woods, and tell me all about their history and legends."
"Oh really? That must have been fascinating. These woods must mean a lot to you, Evan." I replied.
"They're very important to me. I feel a sense of oneness with them. It's a feeling of belonging that I can't get in the towns and cities." He answered.
"It must be pretty upsetting, all the people who come in here, littering, damaging the forest." I suggested, watching how he would respond.
"Upsetting? Yes. But they're hurting themselves as much as me. They don't realize, the woods don't belong to me, or anyone. They're a gift for us all to enjoy. When people litter, or harm nature, they're only hurting themselves." He explained.
"I wonder sometimes if there's really a karma. I can't help but wish something would happen to them, you know? Like, they're hurting nature, and they get away with it. It's a shame there can't be park rangers everywhere to watch them." I feigned anger, but it didn't require much acting. People who litter truly do infuriate me.
"I don't see a need to be angry. Some folks just weren't raised with the same values as you and I. Besides, nature has a way of taking care of itself.
My grandpa used to tell me a story… no I probably shouldn't share that. I'm sorry." Evan trailed off.
"Has anyone ever accused you of being a tease, Evan?" I asked.
Evan laughed, "I can't say they have! Fair enough, there is a legend of a spirit that avenges those who harm nature.
I think it was just something that elders would tell their children, and began telling the white settlers, to scare them off from destroying the forests.
The legend says when the world cries out in pain, the spirit of the forest will awaken and exact revenge upon those who harm nature's beauty."
"What would one have to do to upset this spirit, Evan?" I asked.
Evan looked pensively ahead, "I'm honestly not sure. I would assume something heinous, like setting a forest fire, or pollution, but maybe not! Maybe if the spirit was angry enough, it could be something much smaller, like littering."
"Or carving your initials into a tree?" I asked.
Evan laughed, "Or that, I suppose! You better warn the highschool sweethearts out there, if so!"
We reached the parking lot after some time, by which point I was fairly convinced that Evan was no more than a harmless hiker with a wealth of traditional knowledge.
"I suppose this is where we part ways, detective." Evan announced cheerfully.
"But I never told you I was…" I began.
"A detective? No one asks questions the way a detective does. No offense, Joan, but never go undercover! They'll sniff you out in a heartbeat!" Evan laughed, heading to his pickup truck.
"Have a good rest of your day! And I hope you solve whatever case brought you out here." He called back to me.
"Thanks, Evan. Have a good day." I replied, getting into my car. I felt uneasy about the way he had read me so easily.
There was one more hiking location to check out but I didn't have the location, nor the energy.
The PD was able to get in contact with the first victim and find the location of their hiking spot.
I couldn't handle another hike the same day.
I went home and got some sleep, then poured over the case files looking for any signs that could trace back to Evan or another hiker.
I called up the PD late that night and requested to have an undercover officer watch each of the hiking spots related to the incidents for any usual activity; cars that lingered too long, or people acting funny.
I also asked them to keep an eye out for Evan.
A week came and went and we convened to discuss the case.
The undercover officers had not seen anything unusual, but they HAD seen Evan at each of the three locations.
"Damn." I whispered, I didn't want to have any suspicions about him, he seemed like a good guy, but I couldn't rule him out either.
I had an idea, but I wasn't sure if it would work.
I called up the department and requested backup, I needed someone with experience undercover; a man.
They assigned me David Baler. He was a big, handsome guy in his mid thirties, perfect for the part.
We rented a car and drove out to the woods I had not investigated yet together. I dressed up, if Evan was involved, I didn't need him recognizing me.
"There's his truck." I told him.
"Smallriver's?" He replied.
"Littleriver." I corrected.
"Right, so you think he's our guy?" David asked.
"I don't know. He's the only lead I have." I responded grimly.
"So the deal is, we pretend we're on a date, walk the woods, have a picnic, then go back to a hotel, have a stakeout, and wait to be assaulted?" David asked.
"Yes, so once we leave the car, no detective talk. My name is Amber and yours is John."
"Right, baby." David replied.
I shot him an annoyed look.
"What, just getting in character!" He laughed.
We got out, grabbed our bags and headed onto the trail.
The whole time I kept my eye out for Evan, or anything suspicious.
These woods were much more open, with smaller trees, wider trails, and less shrubs. The views were beautiful, between trickling brooks and fields of flowing green grass.
After an hour we found the campsite they had likely stopped at.
"Alright, let's have our little picnic." I told Dave, and we set out the blanket, started a fire, and had some snacks.
"So how long have you been a… an auditor?" Dave asked me.
"Since I was twenty five. It's sort of a family thing. My dad was an auditor before me. How about you? How long have you been in sales?" I poked at my blond wig, making sure my hair was concealed beneath it.
"Pretty much the same. Right out of college, I knew that's what I wanted to do." He responded, taking a bite out of a sandwich.
If this was a real date, it would be going pretty shit.
"Do you have any pets, Amber?" He asked.
"I work too many hours, I don't really have time for pets. How about you, John?"
"I have a dog. German shepherd, retired police dog. Couldn't ask for a better pet." He answered.
"Must be well trained." I replied, not really being much of a dog person, I didn't know what to say.
"Yeah, he knows a dozen or more commands. I would hate to be the guy that breaks into my house." He laughed.
"Wish we had him at the hotel." I faked a laugh.
If someone was listening, we hardly needed a dog scaring them off. The whole point was to lure them in.
We finished our food, and started picking up our picnic to go when Dave stopped and walked over to the trees.
"What's up?" I asked.
"One last thing." He pulled out his knife, and sunk it into the tree, slowing carving J + A into the bark.
When he finished, he looked at the woods surrounding us, as if goading on anyone watching.
It made me uncomfortable, I couldn't quite pinpoint why. It was like the mood of the woods had changed. The birds seemed quieter; the wind went still.
He folded his knife up and stuck it back in his pocket. "Alright, Amber, let's get back to the hotel. We're staying at the Moonlight Inn, room thirty seven, right?" He asked loudly.
"Y-yes, John. That's the one." I answered.
"Great, can't wait to get back for a little drink and some fun!" He smiled, and waited for me by the trail, and we walked back to the car together.
When we got back to the parking lot, Evan's truck was still there, although we had not seen him the entire time.
Could he have been watching us?
We drove back to the hotel as the sun was setting, and brought our things inside.
"I'm going to take a shower, if you wouldn't mind staying watch and getting things set up. You can go after me." I told Dave.
"Sure thing." He answered, and radioed the surveillance van outside.
We had cameras on all corners of the building, microphones, and backup nearby.
I should feel pretty safe.
But I didn't.
It was like the ill temperament of the woods had followed me back to the hotel. As I washed my hair, I kept feeling the need to peek out of the shower curtain to check that I was alone.
I dried off, dressed, and stepped back out into the main room, putting my gun holster back on.
"I'll put on some coffee, do you want to wash up?" I asked. He smelled terrible, and I was hopeful he would say yes.
"Sure thing, thanks!" Dave answered, and left to take his shower.
It was dark now, and I shut off the overhead lights, leaving just the bedside lamps on.
Dave came back out of the bathroom not long after, shirtless and toweling himself off.
I grimaced, "Cover up, big boy, we don't have to take the act this far."
"Haha, sorry, I guess I'm feeling a bit too at home here." He answered, pulling a shirt on.
"It's getting late, I think it's time for lights out soon." I told him.
"Right, let me get settled in." Dave grabbed a big mug of coffee, shut off the lights and opened his laptop.
On our screens we had an IR camera feed of the surrounding property. No one was going to come or go without us knowing.
I kept watching, expecting Evan's truck to pull into the parking lot at any moment.
Nine o'clock turned to ten, to eleven, and before I knew it, it was one in the morning with no signs of Evan.
I had started nodding off, when Dave woke me, "Hey, why don't you get some rest. I'll keep watch, we've got six people watching, I think we'll be okay. I have a feeling Evan is going to be a no show."
"Sure." I answered, and headed to the bed to sleep.
I'm not sure how long it had been when I awoke to the screaming.
I flipped on the bedside lamp to see Dave standing in the middle of the room, his shirt soaked in blood. There appeared to be a shadow, cast on the wall beside his own. By the shadows, it appeared like a thin, tall person was standing next to him, but I couldn't see anyone there with my own eyes.
I watched as wounds opened on Dave's skin, climbing from his hands, up his white shirt, coming closer and closer to his chest.
"Holy shit! Dave!" I shouted.
The shadow turned and looked at me, but still, nothing was there.
I flipped on all the lights, and the wounds stopped, the shadow disappeared. Dave fell to the floor, gushing blood from the cuts which had reached the outer edges of his chest and the tops of his thighs.
He was screaming in agony, just repeating "Please stop, oh God, please!" When the backup crew burst in the door, as I made the call for paramedics.
Dave was taken to the hospital where it took over six hundred stitches to mend his wounds, and he was heavily medicated for weeks.
I started going back to the hiking trails, looking for Evan.
When I found him again, two weeks later, I told him my story.
He stared into the woods for a long time before responding.
"Detective, I don't think you're the kind to lie to me, but I can't help but wonder how I am to believe this story."
"I don't know why you should either, Evan. I can barely believe it myself." I responded.
"Listen, detective, I'm just the son of a son of a son of a man who once knew about things like this. Whatever truth there may be to these stories has died generations ago. If you're looking for answers, or a resolution, I have none to provide you.
If you're looking to stop this thing, I can't help you.
I'm just a man who loves to hike, with a native bloodline.
I am no mystic nor shaman, nor tribal leader or any sort.
I wish you luck, and I'm sorry about your fellow officer.
I hope it doesn't happen again."
And he walked away.
I let him, because I didn't know what else to ask or say.
After all, he was just a modern man, regardless of his blood. I couldn't expect him to have the answers I sought.
I spent years searching for tribal leaders and anyone with ancestral knowledge who would talk to me about what I saw, but they all turned me away, and treated me like I was crazy.
I guess I'll have to find my own way to make peace with the forest.

From the memoires of Detective Joan Harvey, 2007:
It was a cold October morning when I woke up to my cellphone ringing on my bedside table.
Begrudgingly, I rolled to the side of the bed and answered.
The voice on the other end spoke with an apologetic tone, "Detective, I'm sorry to disturb you this late, but we have another one."
That was the call I got when it officially set in. This wasn't just a few freak occurrences.
This was a rash.
This was a pattern.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, cursed and climbed out of bed, groaning. My alarm clock said 3:44 AM. I'd been sleeping no more than four hours, and I was already getting back up to handle a case.
Part of me regretted telling the department to call me immediately if any more cases came in following this description. Sure, it was the right thing to do, but it felt like shit getting up in the middle of the night to deal with it.
I threw on yesterday's pants and socks, then grabbed a fresh shirt out of my drawer. It was in bad need of being ironed, but I hadn't had time this week, or the last.
My feet still ached from my heels, so I grabbed a pair of flats, threw on a jacket and headed out the door.
I knew I was going to have to drown myself in coffee to make it through this call.
Arriving at the hospital, I flashed my badge at the receptionist and told them what I was here for.
They gave me the room number and opened the security door for me.
When I arrived, the door was cracked, and I could hear medical staff talking inside, so I knocked on the door lightly before entering.
In the hospital bed was a heavily medicated man in his early twenties, covered in bandages from head to toe.
One nurse was tending to his bandages while another was checking his vitals.
"Hello, I'm Detective Joan Harvey, with the State Bureau of Investigation. I'm here because this man's injuries are similar to two others who were reported in recent history. Can I ask some questions about the victim?"
The nurses looked up at me with surprise.
"I'll tell you what I can." The older of the two replied, "I'm the admitting nurse."
"Why don't you give me a quick rundown on what you know." I told her.
"Patient's name is Eric Smallies. We admitted him about ninety minutes ago to the ER with multiple lacerations covering most of his body. He was experiencing severe blood loss, and in extreme pain. We stitched the wounds we could and gave him a heavy dose of pain medication. The doctors are debating whether it would be best to put him in a medically induced coma until he has had time to heal, due to the severity of the trauma." She explained.
"Any idea what might have been used to do this?" I asked.
"If I had to guess, a sharp knife. Maybe a razor or box cutter." She answered.
"And you've run his bloods? Any drugs? Anything on the tox screen? I can't imagine he sat still for it." I inquired.
"Nothing. His girlfriend said he woke up like this and started screaming." The nurse informed me.
"Girlfriend? Is she here?" I asked.
"She was when we admitted him, but the cops who were here took her for questioning. I assume they suspect she was involved. I just don't see how one woman could have done this without drugging or restraining him." She replied.
"Any sign of restraints being used? Bruised wrists or ankles?" I followed up.
"No, there's no sign of any additional trauma. No bruises, scrapes, scratches, rope burn; no defensive wounds, nothing. It's almost like he let it happen." She told me grimly.
Maybe some kind of cult? I wondered to myself.
"Has he said much?" I asked.
"Other than screaming a lot, he just agreed with his girlfriend that he woke up like this. We got him medicated pretty quickly. The severity of trauma here is second only to full body burn victims. Running an IV was its own adventure." She explained.
"So I'm assuming I won't get to question him any time soon." I stated rhetorically.
"No ma'am, I expect he will be medicated for at least a week. Once the pain subsides, I can only imagine the itching will be its own hell." She looked at the bandaged victim with a mix of horror and sympathy.
"Any pictures of the wounds?" I asked.
"No, ma'am, we were in a rush to treat." She answered.
"Would you do me a favor? Next time you do his bandages, give us a call. I'd like a forensic photographer nearby." I explained.
"Yes, detective. Anything else we can help with?" She asked.
"I think that's all for now. I have to go find his girlfriend." I stepped out into the hall and called the station. They let me know the girlfriend was being held there for questioning.
"Keep her a little longer, I'm on my way."
I arrived at the station a half past five, as the sun was starting to creep up on the horizon. I'd already finished one large coffee with a double shot of espresso and was ready for another.
Outside the interrogation room were the two officers who had already interviewed her.
"What's she told you?" I asked.
"She just keeps saying he woke up like that. We sent a couple guys to their house to check for signs of a struggle." The officer explained.
"Do you think she did it? Any signs of a fight on her? Blood?" I asked.
"Plenty of blood, but she just helped her boyfriend, who looks like he lost a fight with a weedwacker, get to the hospital, so that's to be expected. No bruises, scratches, or anything else you'd expect from trying to harm a resisting man who has at least forty pounds and twelve inches on her." He explained.
"Could it have been someone else? Maybe she paid someone? Any reason to believe she's complicit?" I asked.
"No idea. It seems the most likely reason, but still leaves more questions than answers. If the guy even says he woke up like that, they're both lying to hide something." The officer told me.
"Sounds about right. Okay, I'm going to have a chat with her." I told them.
"Go right ahead, but good luck, she's fried. The girl is a wreck. She's had multiple breakdowns already." The officer explained.
"I'll go easy." I answered, and stepped into the room.
"Julia Gottier, is it?" I asked, closing the door and walking over to the table.
She didn't look up. She was gently touching the bloody cuffs of her night shirt, and nodded shortly in acknowledgement.
"I'd like to ask you a few more questions. I know you've already talked to several officers. We want to do our best to find out who hurt your boyfriend.
Can you tell me where you two were last night?" I asked.
She took a deep breath, and with a shaking voice, and a short attitude, explained, "We went on a date in the woods. We did a little hike, picnic, campfire, then we came home. Nothing weird. No alcohol, no drugs. I already told the other cops." She answered.
"Right, I'm sorry, I just want to make sure I understand the story.
Did you make any stops after?" I asked.
"No, we came right home." She replied.
"And did you see or meet any other people in the woods?" I asked.
"A couple other hikers. There weren't too many, it's a week night and it's getting cold out." She answered.
"Does your husband have any enemies?" I asked.
"No one I can think of. Eric is a shut in. He barely does anything outside work, and he's work from home. I can't imagine anyone would be upset enough with him to hurt him. Even if they were, I've been with him all night. No one came into our house. He just woke up like this. Isn't it possible this is some weird medical condition? Maybe it's something new?" She sounded distraught, grasping for answers.
"Maybe, but understand, that's quite a claim. We have to rule out any kind of foul play first. No medical condition like this has ever been observed.
Your boyfriend's wounds look distinctly like knife wounds, and you were the only one seen with him in the past twelve hours. You do understand how this looks to us?" I asked.
"Of course I fucking understand how it looks!" She answered. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know you all think I did it! How do you think I did all that!? Do you think he just sat still while I carefully cut up his entire body? I'm guessing you think I drugged him!" She screamed.
"I don't. His tox screen was clean. Here's the thing, Julia, I just can't imagine any other way he got hurt.
Was your boyfriend ever prone to self harming?
Could these have been self-inflicted?"
I knew they couldn't have been, due to the extensive wounds on areas he couldn't have reached himself, but I wanted to hear what she would say. If she tried to push the narrative that they were self-inflicted, that would be extremely suspicious.
She seemed deep in thought, then looked up, "No. Eric never showed signs he would hurt himself. As far as I could tell, he was happy and never dealt with anything like that. I don't think he could have done it himself."
Well, I gave her an out, and she didn't lunge for it, even knowing this, I was still left with her as the only suspect.
Maybe she was telling the truth?
"Can you give me the location of the woods you went to? The trail you walked, any places or landmarks you stopped at?" I asked.
She pulled out her phone and slid it across the table to me, "It's just this trail, we took the loop. If you follow it, that's the path we took."
I noted the location on my phone.
"Okay Julia, listen. Unfortunately your house is an active investigation. Is there anyone you could stay with for a couple nights?" I asked.
"My parents, maybe." She answered.
"Why don't you give them a call, I'm going to talk to the other officers about releasing you. I'm going to have to ask you to remain available, and not leave the state. You understand it would look bad."
"My boyfriend is in the hospital, I'm not going anywhere." She answered.
"Great. I'll take my leave. I wish you both a speedy recovery." I left and conferred with the other officers.
We were split on whether or not she did it, but no one could explain how.
The sun was rising.
It was past 6 am when I headed over to the trail that Julia had given me. On the way I called the team which had been investigating the house.
"The bed and surrounding area looks like a murder scene, that's for sure. I'm surprised the guy lived." The investigator told me.
"Any signs of forced entry?" I asked.
"None. Doors and windows were sealed up tight."
"Any signs of a weapon?" I asked.
"We've checked all the knives in the kitchen, most are too dull to make the cuts we saw on the victim. We found his pocket knife, but it's clean of blood, and has not been washed recently." They told me.
"How can you tell?" I asked.
"Dirt, wood dust and chips all over it." He replied.
"I see. I'm assuming you've already gone through the trash. Check the yard, any holes in the walls, basement, toilet, attic. See if he has razor blades around. Did we check out the girlfriend's car?"
"Yeah, we went through it when she was being held, with her permission. Nothing in there, just a lot of blood in the passenger seat." They replied.
"Maybe she dumped it on the way to the hospital. Have someone trace the route and see if there's any nearby rivers, ponds, anywhere she might have gone to dump it." I suggested.
"It's all woods out here. She could have thrown it anywhere." They answered.
Fuck, they were right, "Okay just stick with the house and surrounding area then. I want to check out another lead." I hung up, and stared at the entrance to the hiking trail. I wasn't really sure what I expected to find here, but it was the last place they had been, maybe there was something more they weren't telling me?
I was thankful for picking my flats today, as I started down the root-covered path. The dirt was hard packed, but covered in long pine needles which made it slick.
After about forty minutes, I came to what must have been the spot they stopped for their fire and picnic. There was a recently extinguished fire pit with two logs functioning as seats beside it.
I started to circle the site looking for anything unusual. Walking to the edge, I looked into the woods for any signs that they were watched or followed; scuffs in the leaves, broken branches, anything, but nothing stood out.
As I circled the campfire site, I came to a tree that caught my attention. Freshly carved in the tree were the names Eric + Julia.
It was strange; the sap had begun to harden, dripping from the deep gouges in the tree, and it was as red as blood.
Seeing nothing of note here, I followed their path the rest of the loop back to my car and sat down in the driver's seat. My feet and legs ached, and out of a sense of unease, I locked my door, then leaned back my seat to rest a moment while the heater reinvigorated my cold limbs.
The two previous victims had recently gone hiking as well. Could there be some kind of stalker in the woods?
They were both couples, too.
Perhaps some kind of jealous aggression?
I sat up and grabbed my phone, then called the department, "Do we have the details on the first two related cases? Both also reported recently being in the woods, did they disclose where?"
I waited while they ran the records. They were able to give me the woods recently visited by one of the two previous victims. I asked them to follow up with the other and call me as soon as they knew, and headed off to the second area. It was about thirty minutes away in a nearby town.
I stopped for some breakfast and another coffee on my way, and picked up a pair of hiking boots from my house. I wasn't going to check three hiking trails in my dress loafers.
The previous cases were two and six weeks old.
It wasn't likely that I would find any remaining evidence, but I needed to be sure.
The second trail was much more remote and overgrown. It was a zig-zagging line of switchbacks up a steep, rocky hillside. It would have been a monumental effort to track or stalk a pair of hikers out here without being noticed.
After nearly an hour, I had reached the top. Thoroughly winded, I found a rock perched on the edge of the overlook and sat to catch my breath.
Quitting smoking was a great idea, though I couldn't help but wonder how much better I would feel right now if I hadn't spent ten years burning my lungs up.
As I looked around at the hilltop landing, my eyes fell upon another tree with carved bark.
PV + MT.
They matched the second victim and his girlfriend, Peter Vanderburgh and Michelle Timmons.
I stood and approached the tree. It was definitely a fairly fresh carving, and similar to the first, the sap had congealed into a crimson red, this one more dry and scab-like.
Perhaps a fellow hiker was not a fan of tree carvings?
But that still didn't explain how they managed to cover every inch of the victim's body in cuts while they slept.
A cold breeze had started sweeping up the hillside, and grey clouds were rolling in from the west.
That's when I had the strangest feeling that I was being watched.
I turned and looked behind me but nothing was there, just tree trunks receding back into a line of evergreens.
I started back down the trail as a cold rain picked up, and the sky darkened further.
There was an uneasiness in these woods; a feeling of being unwelcome, and the continued sense that I was being watched followed me on my descent.
The trail was slick from the rain, pine needles and fallen leaves, forcing me to walk slowly.
That's when I heard the crunch of footsteps descending the hill behind me.
I turned and looked back to see a large man in a black coat and dark jeans coming down the hill behind me.
I didn't know why, but I got an uncomfortable feeling.
I hadn't seen him on the way up. Had he been there watching me the whole time?
Or was there another trail I hadn't seen?
I continued down the hill with a quickened pace, but the unstable ground, coupled with my growing fatigue from the first hike, were causing a struggle.
The man behind me on the trail, however, seemed unaffected by the ground condition or weather, and was gradually catching up.
I quickened my pace past what I felt was safe, and started stumbling down the hill in a half jog. Landing hard on my heel, I felt a painful shock run up my leg.
I thought I was fine, until a few steps later, a hot pain in my ankle demanded my attention.
I stopped and moved off the path.
As I bent over to rub my ankle, I reached inside my coat and unbuckled my sidearm.
The man would surely catch up while I was recovering.
He continued to approach, fifty, twenty, ten feet, until he was right next to me.
"Hello! Strange day for a hike!" He said as he approached.
"I like to go on weekdays, less people." I responded.
"Is everything okay? You hurt your foot?" He asked.
"Yeah, just hurt my ankle a little back there. Taking a break to recover." I answered, keeping my eyes on him, and preparing to grab my weapon if needed.
"Here!" He held out his hiking stick to me, "it's a bit big for you, but it should help get you back down safely!" He explained in a friendly voice.
"I'm okay, thank you." I answered, staring down the winding trail ahead of me, I still had a long way to go.
"No, no, no, I insist!" He extended the top towards me.
If he wanted to hurt me, he could have…
I reached out and took the top, and he let go.
"Thank you. What's your name?" I asked.
"Evan Littleriver, and you?"
"Joan." I answered.
"Joan! Well I hope I didn't startle you, I can imagine it can be uncomfortable for a woman to be out here alone with a big man stomping down the trail behind her." He smiled.
"No, it's okay." I answered.
"Well I'll tell you what, Joan, I can help you back to your car if you'd like, or I can go on ahead if you'd prefer to walk back on your own."
"Why don't you walk with me Evan, I'd like to ask you a few questions." I answered.
"Sure thing! Whenever you're ready." He responded pleasantly.
I put some weight on my ankle, and it seemed okay, but I leaned on the walking stick for added security.
"Do you walk this trail often, Evan?" I asked as we started moving.
"Oh yes! This is the trail of my ancestors!" He answered.
"Your ancestors? You mean you're Native American?" I asked.
"Yes! I know it's not immediately obvious looking at me, but I've got quite a bit of Pequot in me!" He answered, "My grandfather taught me a lot of Native Americans traditions. He'd take me on walks through these woods, and tell me all about their history and legends."
"Oh really? That must have been fascinating. These woods must mean a lot to you, Evan." I replied.
"They're very important to me. I feel a sense of oneness with them. It's a feeling of belonging that I can't get in the towns and cities." He answered.
"It must be pretty upsetting, all the people who come in here, littering, damaging the forest." I suggested, watching how he would respond.
"Upsetting? Yes. But they're hurting themselves as much as me. They don't realize, the woods don't belong to me, or anyone. They're a gift for us all to enjoy. When people litter, or harm nature, they're only hurting themselves." He explained.
"I wonder sometimes if there's really a karma. I can't help but wish something would happen to them, you know? Like, they're hurting nature, and they get away with it. It's a shame there can't be park rangers everywhere to watch them." I feigned anger, but it didn't require much acting. People who litter truly do infuriate me.
"I don't see a need to be angry. Some folks just weren't raised with the same values as you and I. Besides, nature has a way of taking care of itself.
My grandpa used to tell me a story… no I probably shouldn't share that. I'm sorry." Evan trailed off.
"Has anyone ever accused you of being a tease, Evan?" I asked.
Evan laughed, "I can't say they have! Fair enough, there is a legend of a spirit that avenges those who harm nature.
I think it was just something that elders would tell their children, and began telling the white settlers, to scare them off from destroying the forests.
The legend says when the world cries out in pain, the spirit of the forest will awaken and exact revenge upon those who harm nature's beauty."
"What would one have to do to upset this spirit, Evan?" I asked.
Evan looked pensively ahead, "I'm honestly not sure. I would assume something heinous, like setting a forest fire, or pollution, but maybe not! Maybe if the spirit was angry enough, it could be something much smaller, like littering."
"Or carving your initials into a tree?" I asked.
Evan laughed, "Or that, I suppose! You better warn the highschool sweethearts out there, if so!"
We reached the parking lot after some time, by which point I was fairly convinced that Evan was no more than a harmless hiker with a wealth of traditional knowledge.
"I suppose this is where we part ways, detective." Evan announced cheerfully.
"But I never told you I was…" I began.
"A detective? No one asks questions the way a detective does. No offense, Joan, but never go undercover! They'll sniff you out in a heartbeat!" Evan laughed, heading to his pickup truck.
"Have a good rest of your day! And I hope you solve whatever case brought you out here." He called back to me.
"Thanks, Evan. Have a good day." I replied, getting into my car. I felt uneasy about the way he had read me so easily.
There was one more hiking location to check out but I didn't have the location, nor the energy.
The PD was able to get in contact with the first victim and find the location of their hiking spot.
I couldn't handle another hike the same day.
I went home and got some sleep, then poured over the case files looking for any signs that could trace back to Evan or another hiker.
I called up the PD late that night and requested to have an undercover officer watch each of the hiking spots related to the incidents for any usual activity; cars that lingered too long, or people acting funny.
I also asked them to keep an eye out for Evan.
A week came and went and we convened to discuss the case.
The undercover officers had not seen anything unusual, but they HAD seen Evan at each of the three locations.
"Damn." I whispered, I didn't want to have any suspicions about him, he seemed like a good guy, but I couldn't rule him out either.
I had an idea, but I wasn't sure if it would work.
I called up the department and requested backup, I needed someone with experience undercover; a man.
They assigned me David Baler. He was a big, handsome guy in his mid thirties, perfect for the part.
We rented a car and drove out to the woods I had not investigated yet together. I dressed up, if Evan was involved, I didn't need him recognizing me.
"There's his truck." I told him.
"Smallriver's?" He replied.
"Littleriver." I corrected.
"Right, so you think he's our guy?" David asked.
"I don't know. He's the only lead I have." I responded grimly.
"So the deal is, we pretend we're on a date, walk the woods, have a picnic, then go back to a hotel, have a stakeout, and wait to be assaulted?" David asked.
"Yes, so once we leave the car, no detective talk. My name is Amber and yours is John."
"Right, baby." David replied.
I shot him an annoyed look.
"What, just getting in character!" He laughed.
We got out, grabbed our bags and headed onto the trail.
The whole time I kept my eye out for Evan, or anything suspicious.
These woods were much more open, with smaller trees, wider trails, and less shrubs. The views were beautiful, between trickling brooks and fields of flowing green grass.
After an hour we found the campsite they had likely stopped at.
"Alright, let's have our little picnic." I told Dave, and we set out the blanket, started a fire, and had some snacks.
"So how long have you been a… an auditor?" Dave asked me.
"Since I was twenty five. It's sort of a family thing. My dad was an auditor before me. How about you? How long have you been in sales?" I poked at my blond wig, making sure my hair was concealed beneath it.
"Pretty much the same. Right out of college, I knew that's what I wanted to do." He responded, taking a bite out of a sandwich.
If this was a real date, it would be going pretty shit.
"Do you have any pets, Amber?" He asked.
"I work too many hours, I don't really have time for pets. How about you, John?"
"I have a dog. German shepherd, retired police dog. Couldn't ask for a better pet." He answered.
"Must be well trained." I replied, not really being much of a dog person, I didn't know what to say.
"Yeah, he knows a dozen or more commands. I would hate to be the guy that breaks into my house." He laughed.
"Wish we had him at the hotel." I faked a laugh.
If someone was listening, we hardly needed a dog scaring them off. The whole point was to lure them in.
We finished our food, and started picking up our picnic to go when Dave stopped and walked over to the trees.
"What's up?" I asked.
"One last thing." He pulled out his knife, and sunk it into the tree, slowing carving J + A into the bark.
When he finished, he looked at the woods surrounding us, as if goading on anyone watching.
It made me uncomfortable, I couldn't quite pinpoint why. It was like the mood of the woods had changed. The birds seemed quieter; the wind went still.
He folded his knife up and stuck it back in his pocket. "Alright, Amber, let's get back to the hotel. We're staying at the Moonlight Inn, room thirty seven, right?" He asked loudly.
"Y-yes, John. That's the one." I answered.
"Great, can't wait to get back for a little drink and some fun!" He smiled, and waited for me by the trail, and we walked back to the car together.
When we got back to the parking lot, Evan's truck was still there, although we had not seen him the entire time.
Could he have been watching us?
We drove back to the hotel as the sun was setting, and brought our things inside.
"I'm going to take a shower, if you wouldn't mind staying watch and getting things set up. You can go after me." I told Dave.
"Sure thing." He answered, and radioed the surveillance van outside.
We had cameras on all corners of the building, microphones, and backup nearby.
I should feel pretty safe.
But I didn't.
It was like the ill temperament of the woods had followed me back to the hotel. As I washed my hair, I kept feeling the need to peek out of the shower curtain to check that I was alone.
I dried off, dressed, and stepped back out into the main room, putting my gun holster back on.
"I'll put on some coffee, do you want to wash up?" I asked. He smelled terrible, and I was hopeful he would say yes.
"Sure thing, thanks!" Dave answered, and left to take his shower.
It was dark now, and I shut off the overhead lights, leaving just the bedside lamps on.
Dave came back out of the bathroom not long after, shirtless and toweling himself off.
I grimaced, "Cover up, big boy, we don't have to take the act this far."
"Haha, sorry, I guess I'm feeling a bit too at home here." He answered, pulling a shirt on.
"It's getting late, I think it's time for lights out soon." I told him.
"Right, let me get settled in." Dave grabbed a big mug of coffee, shut off the lights and opened his laptop.
On our screens we had an IR camera feed of the surrounding property. No one was going to come or go without us knowing.
I kept watching, expecting Evan's truck to pull into the parking lot at any moment.
Nine o'clock turned to ten, to eleven, and before I knew it, it was one in the morning with no signs of Evan.
I had started nodding off, when Dave woke me, "Hey, why don't you get some rest. I'll keep watch, we've got six people watching, I think we'll be okay. I have a feeling Evan is going to be a no show."
"Sure." I answered, and headed to the bed to sleep.
I'm not sure how long it had been when I awoke to the screaming.
I flipped on the bedside lamp to see Dave standing in the middle of the room, his shirt soaked in blood. There appeared to be a shadow, cast on the wall beside his own. By the shadows, it appeared like a thin, tall person was standing next to him, but I couldn't see anyone there with my own eyes.
I watched as wounds opened on Dave's skin, climbing from his hands, up his white shirt, coming closer and closer to his chest.
"Holy shit! Dave!" I shouted.
The shadow turned and looked at me, but still, nothing was there.
I flipped on all the lights, and the wounds stopped, the shadow disappeared. Dave fell to the floor, gushing blood from the cuts which had reached the outer edges of his chest and the tops of his thighs.
He was screaming in agony, just repeating "Please stop, oh God, please!" When the backup crew burst in the door, as I made the call for paramedics.
Dave was taken to the hospital where it took over six hundred stitches to mend his wounds, and he was heavily medicated for weeks.
I started going back to the hiking trails, looking for Evan.
When I found him again, two weeks later, I told him my story.
He stared into the woods for a long time before responding.
"Detective, I don't think you're the kind to lie to me, but I can't help but wonder how I am to believe this story."
"I don't know why you should either, Evan. I can barely believe it myself." I responded.
"Listen, detective, I'm just the son of a son of a son of a man who once knew about things like this. Whatever truth there may be to these stories has died generations ago. If you're looking for answers, or a resolution, I have none to provide you.
If you're looking to stop this thing, I can't help you.
I'm just a man who loves to hike, with a native bloodline.
I am no mystic nor shaman, nor tribal leader or any sort.
I wish you luck, and I'm sorry about your fellow officer.
I hope it doesn't happen again."
And he walked away.
I let him, because I didn't know what else to ask or say.
After all, he was just a modern man, regardless of his blood. I couldn't expect him to have the answers I sought.
I spent years searching for tribal leaders and anyone with ancestral knowledge who would talk to me about what I saw, but they all turned me away, and treated me like I was crazy.
I guess I'll have to find my own way to make peace with the forest.

From the memoires of Detective Joan Harvey, 2007:
It was a cold October morning when I woke up to my cellphone ringing on my bedside table.
Begrudgingly, I rolled to the side of the bed and answered.
The voice on the other end spoke with an apologetic tone, "Detective, I'm sorry to disturb you this late, but we have another one."
That was the call I got when it officially set in. This wasn't just a few freak occurrences.
This was a rash.
This was a pattern.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, cursed and climbed out of bed, groaning. My alarm clock said 3:44 AM. I'd been sleeping no more than four hours, and I was already getting back up to handle a case.
Part of me regretted telling the department to call me immediately if any more cases came in following this description. Sure, it was the right thing to do, but it felt like shit getting up in the middle of the night to deal with it.
I threw on yesterday's pants and socks, then grabbed a fresh shirt out of my drawer. It was in bad need of being ironed, but I hadn't had time this week, or the last.
My feet still ached from my heels, so I grabbed a pair of flats, threw on a jacket and headed out the door.
I knew I was going to have to drown myself in coffee to make it through this call.
Arriving at the hospital, I flashed my badge at the receptionist and told them what I was here for.
They gave me the room number and opened the security door for me.
When I arrived, the door was cracked, and I could hear medical staff talking inside, so I knocked on the door lightly before entering.
In the hospital bed was a heavily medicated man in his early twenties, covered in bandages from head to toe.
One nurse was tending to his bandages while another was checking his vitals.
"Hello, I'm Detective Joan Harvey, with the State Bureau of Investigation. I'm here because this man's injuries are similar to two others who were reported in recent history. Can I ask some questions about the victim?"
The nurses looked up at me with surprise.
"I'll tell you what I can." The older of the two replied, "I'm the admitting nurse."
"Why don't you give me a quick rundown on what you know." I told her.
"Patient's name is Eric Smallies. We admitted him about ninety minutes ago to the ER with multiple lacerations covering most of his body. He was experiencing severe blood loss, and in extreme pain. We stitched the wounds we could and gave him a heavy dose of pain medication. The doctors are debating whether it would be best to put him in a medically induced coma until he has had time to heal, due to the severity of the trauma." She explained.
"Any idea what might have been used to do this?" I asked.
"If I had to guess, a sharp knife. Maybe a razor or box cutter." She answered.
"And you've run his bloods? Any drugs? Anything on the tox screen? I can't imagine he sat still for it." I inquired.
"Nothing. His girlfriend said he woke up like this and started screaming." The nurse informed me.
"Girlfriend? Is she here?" I asked.
"She was when we admitted him, but the cops who were here took her for questioning. I assume they suspect she was involved. I just don't see how one woman could have done this without drugging or restraining him." She replied.
"Any sign of restraints being used? Bruised wrists or ankles?" I followed up.
"No, there's no sign of any additional trauma. No bruises, scrapes, scratches, rope burn; no defensive wounds, nothing. It's almost like he let it happen." She told me grimly.
Maybe some kind of cult? I wondered to myself.
"Has he said much?" I asked.
"Other than screaming a lot, he just agreed with his girlfriend that he woke up like this. We got him medicated pretty quickly. The severity of trauma here is second only to full body burn victims. Running an IV was its own adventure." She explained.
"So I'm assuming I won't get to question him any time soon." I stated rhetorically.
"No ma'am, I expect he will be medicated for at least a week. Once the pain subsides, I can only imagine the itching will be its own hell." She looked at the bandaged victim with a mix of horror and sympathy.
"Any pictures of the wounds?" I asked.
"No, ma'am, we were in a rush to treat." She answered.
"Would you do me a favor? Next time you do his bandages, give us a call. I'd like a forensic photographer nearby." I explained.
"Yes, detective. Anything else we can help with?" She asked.
"I think that's all for now. I have to go find his girlfriend." I stepped out into the hall and called the station. They let me know the girlfriend was being held there for questioning.
"Keep her a little longer, I'm on my way."
I arrived at the station a half past five, as the sun was starting to creep up on the horizon. I'd already finished one large coffee with a double shot of espresso and was ready for another.
Outside the interrogation room were the two officers who had already interviewed her.
"What's she told you?" I asked.
"She just keeps saying he woke up like that. We sent a couple guys to their house to check for signs of a struggle." The officer explained.
"Do you think she did it? Any signs of a fight on her? Blood?" I asked.
"Plenty of blood, but she just helped her boyfriend, who looks like he lost a fight with a weedwacker, get to the hospital, so that's to be expected. No bruises, scratches, or anything else you'd expect from trying to harm a resisting man who has at least forty pounds and twelve inches on her." He explained.
"Could it have been someone else? Maybe she paid someone? Any reason to believe she's complicit?" I asked.
"No idea. It seems the most likely reason, but still leaves more questions than answers. If the guy even says he woke up like that, they're both lying to hide something." The officer told me.
"Sounds about right. Okay, I'm going to have a chat with her." I told them.
"Go right ahead, but good luck, she's fried. The girl is a wreck. She's had multiple breakdowns already." The officer explained.
"I'll go easy." I answered, and stepped into the room.
"Julia Gottier, is it?" I asked, closing the door and walking over to the table.
She didn't look up. She was gently touching the bloody cuffs of her night shirt, and nodded shortly in acknowledgement.
"I'd like to ask you a few more questions. I know you've already talked to several officers. We want to do our best to find out who hurt your boyfriend.
Can you tell me where you two were last night?" I asked.
She took a deep breath, and with a shaking voice, and a short attitude, explained, "We went on a date in the woods. We did a little hike, picnic, campfire, then we came home. Nothing weird. No alcohol, no drugs. I already told the other cops." She answered.
"Right, I'm sorry, I just want to make sure I understand the story.
Did you make any stops after?" I asked.
"No, we came right home." She replied.
"And did you see or meet any other people in the woods?" I asked.
"A couple other hikers. There weren't too many, it's a week night and it's getting cold out." She answered.
"Does your husband have any enemies?" I asked.
"No one I can think of. Eric is a shut in. He barely does anything outside work, and he's work from home. I can't imagine anyone would be upset enough with him to hurt him. Even if they were, I've been with him all night. No one came into our house. He just woke up like this. Isn't it possible this is some weird medical condition? Maybe it's something new?" She sounded distraught, grasping for answers.
"Maybe, but understand, that's quite a claim. We have to rule out any kind of foul play first. No medical condition like this has ever been observed.
Your boyfriend's wounds look distinctly like knife wounds, and you were the only one seen with him in the past twelve hours. You do understand how this looks to us?" I asked.
"Of course I fucking understand how it looks!" She answered. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know you all think I did it! How do you think I did all that!? Do you think he just sat still while I carefully cut up his entire body? I'm guessing you think I drugged him!" She screamed.
"I don't. His tox screen was clean. Here's the thing, Julia, I just can't imagine any other way he got hurt.
Was your boyfriend ever prone to self harming?
Could these have been self-inflicted?"
I knew they couldn't have been, due to the extensive wounds on areas he couldn't have reached himself, but I wanted to hear what she would say. If she tried to push the narrative that they were self-inflicted, that would be extremely suspicious.
She seemed deep in thought, then looked up, "No. Eric never showed signs he would hurt himself. As far as I could tell, he was happy and never dealt with anything like that. I don't think he could have done it himself."
Well, I gave her an out, and she didn't lunge for it, even knowing this, I was still left with her as the only suspect.
Maybe she was telling the truth?
"Can you give me the location of the woods you went to? The trail you walked, any places or landmarks you stopped at?" I asked.
She pulled out her phone and slid it across the table to me, "It's just this trail, we took the loop. If you follow it, that's the path we took."
I noted the location on my phone.
"Okay Julia, listen. Unfortunately your house is an active investigation. Is there anyone you could stay with for a couple nights?" I asked.
"My parents, maybe." She answered.
"Why don't you give them a call, I'm going to talk to the other officers about releasing you. I'm going to have to ask you to remain available, and not leave the state. You understand it would look bad."
"My boyfriend is in the hospital, I'm not going anywhere." She answered.
"Great. I'll take my leave. I wish you both a speedy recovery." I left and conferred with the other officers.
We were split on whether or not she did it, but no one could explain how.
The sun was rising.
It was past 6 am when I headed over to the trail that Julia had given me. On the way I called the team which had been investigating the house.
"The bed and surrounding area looks like a murder scene, that's for sure. I'm surprised the guy lived." The investigator told me.
"Any signs of forced entry?" I asked.
"None. Doors and windows were sealed up tight."
"Any signs of a weapon?" I asked.
"We've checked all the knives in the kitchen, most are too dull to make the cuts we saw on the victim. We found his pocket knife, but it's clean of blood, and has not been washed recently." They told me.
"How can you tell?" I asked.
"Dirt, wood dust and chips all over it." He replied.
"I see. I'm assuming you've already gone through the trash. Check the yard, any holes in the walls, basement, toilet, attic. See if he has razor blades around. Did we check out the girlfriend's car?"
"Yeah, we went through it when she was being held, with her permission. Nothing in there, just a lot of blood in the passenger seat." They replied.
"Maybe she dumped it on the way to the hospital. Have someone trace the route and see if there's any nearby rivers, ponds, anywhere she might have gone to dump it." I suggested.
"It's all woods out here. She could have thrown it anywhere." They answered.
Fuck, they were right, "Okay just stick with the house and surrounding area then. I want to check out another lead." I hung up, and stared at the entrance to the hiking trail. I wasn't really sure what I expected to find here, but it was the last place they had been, maybe there was something more they weren't telling me?
I was thankful for picking my flats today, as I started down the root-covered path. The dirt was hard packed, but covered in long pine needles which made it slick.
After about forty minutes, I came to what must have been the spot they stopped for their fire and picnic. There was a recently extinguished fire pit with two logs functioning as seats beside it.
I started to circle the site looking for anything unusual. Walking to the edge, I looked into the woods for any signs that they were watched or followed; scuffs in the leaves, broken branches, anything, but nothing stood out.
As I circled the campfire site, I came to a tree that caught my attention. Freshly carved in the tree were the names Eric + Julia.
It was strange; the sap had begun to harden, dripping from the deep gouges in the tree, and it was as red as blood.
Seeing nothing of note here, I followed their path the rest of the loop back to my car and sat down in the driver's seat. My feet and legs ached, and out of a sense of unease, I locked my door, then leaned back my seat to rest a moment while the heater reinvigorated my cold limbs.
The two previous victims had recently gone hiking as well. Could there be some kind of stalker in the woods?
They were both couples, too.
Perhaps some kind of jealous aggression?
I sat up and grabbed my phone, then called the department, "Do we have the details on the first two related cases? Both also reported recently being in the woods, did they disclose where?"
I waited while they ran the records. They were able to give me the woods recently visited by one of the two previous victims. I asked them to follow up with the other and call me as soon as they knew, and headed off to the second area. It was about thirty minutes away in a nearby town.
I stopped for some breakfast and another coffee on my way, and picked up a pair of hiking boots from my house. I wasn't going to check three hiking trails in my dress loafers.
The previous cases were two and six weeks old.
It wasn't likely that I would find any remaining evidence, but I needed to be sure.
The second trail was much more remote and overgrown. It was a zig-zagging line of switchbacks up a steep, rocky hillside. It would have been a monumental effort to track or stalk a pair of hikers out here without being noticed.
After nearly an hour, I had reached the top. Thoroughly winded, I found a rock perched on the edge of the overlook and sat to catch my breath.
Quitting smoking was a great idea, though I couldn't help but wonder how much better I would feel right now if I hadn't spent ten years burning my lungs up.
As I looked around at the hilltop landing, my eyes fell upon another tree with carved bark.
PV + MT.
They matched the second victim and his girlfriend, Peter Vanderburgh and Michelle Timmons.
I stood and approached the tree. It was definitely a fairly fresh carving, and similar to the first, the sap had congealed into a crimson red, this one more dry and scab-like.
Perhaps a fellow hiker was not a fan of tree carvings?
But that still didn't explain how they managed to cover every inch of the victim's body in cuts while they slept.
A cold breeze had started sweeping up the hillside, and grey clouds were rolling in from the west.
That's when I had the strangest feeling that I was being watched.
I turned and looked behind me but nothing was there, just tree trunks receding back into a line of evergreens.
I started back down the trail as a cold rain picked up, and the sky darkened further.
There was an uneasiness in these woods; a feeling of being unwelcome, and the continued sense that I was being watched followed me on my descent.
The trail was slick from the rain, pine needles and fallen leaves, forcing me to walk slowly.
That's when I heard the crunch of footsteps descending the hill behind me.
I turned and looked back to see a large man in a black coat and dark jeans coming down the hill behind me.
I didn't know why, but I got an uncomfortable feeling.
I hadn't seen him on the way up. Had he been there watching me the whole time?
Or was there another trail I hadn't seen?
I continued down the hill with a quickened pace, but the unstable ground, coupled with my growing fatigue from the first hike, were causing a struggle.
The man behind me on the trail, however, seemed unaffected by the ground condition or weather, and was gradually catching up.
I quickened my pace past what I felt was safe, and started stumbling down the hill in a half jog. Landing hard on my heel, I felt a painful shock run up my leg.
I thought I was fine, until a few steps later, a hot pain in my ankle demanded my attention.
I stopped and moved off the path.
As I bent over to rub my ankle, I reached inside my coat and unbuckled my sidearm.
The man would surely catch up while I was recovering.
He continued to approach, fifty, twenty, ten feet, until he was right next to me.
"Hello! Strange day for a hike!" He said as he approached.
"I like to go on weekdays, less people." I responded.
"Is everything okay? You hurt your foot?" He asked.
"Yeah, just hurt my ankle a little back there. Taking a break to recover." I answered, keeping my eyes on him, and preparing to grab my weapon if needed.
"Here!" He held out his hiking stick to me, "it's a bit big for you, but it should help get you back down safely!" He explained in a friendly voice.
"I'm okay, thank you." I answered, staring down the winding trail ahead of me, I still had a long way to go.
"No, no, no, I insist!" He extended the top towards me.
If he wanted to hurt me, he could have…
I reached out and took the top, and he let go.
"Thank you. What's your name?" I asked.
"Evan Littleriver, and you?"
"Joan." I answered.
"Joan! Well I hope I didn't startle you, I can imagine it can be uncomfortable for a woman to be out here alone with a big man stomping down the trail behind her." He smiled.
"No, it's okay." I answered.
"Well I'll tell you what, Joan, I can help you back to your car if you'd like, or I can go on ahead if you'd prefer to walk back on your own."
"Why don't you walk with me Evan, I'd like to ask you a few questions." I answered.
"Sure thing! Whenever you're ready." He responded pleasantly.
I put some weight on my ankle, and it seemed okay, but I leaned on the walking stick for added security.
"Do you walk this trail often, Evan?" I asked as we started moving.
"Oh yes! This is the trail of my ancestors!" He answered.
"Your ancestors? You mean you're Native American?" I asked.
"Yes! I know it's not immediately obvious looking at me, but I've got quite a bit of Pequot in me!" He answered, "My grandfather taught me a lot of Native Americans traditions. He'd take me on walks through these woods, and tell me all about their history and legends."
"Oh really? That must have been fascinating. These woods must mean a lot to you, Evan." I replied.
"They're very important to me. I feel a sense of oneness with them. It's a feeling of belonging that I can't get in the towns and cities." He answered.
"It must be pretty upsetting, all the people who come in here, littering, damaging the forest." I suggested, watching how he would respond.
"Upsetting? Yes. But they're hurting themselves as much as me. They don't realize, the woods don't belong to me, or anyone. They're a gift for us all to enjoy. When people litter, or harm nature, they're only hurting themselves." He explained.
"I wonder sometimes if there's really a karma. I can't help but wish something would happen to them, you know? Like, they're hurting nature, and they get away with it. It's a shame there can't be park rangers everywhere to watch them." I feigned anger, but it didn't require much acting. People who litter truly do infuriate me.
"I don't see a need to be angry. Some folks just weren't raised with the same values as you and I. Besides, nature has a way of taking care of itself.
My grandpa used to tell me a story… no I probably shouldn't share that. I'm sorry." Evan trailed off.
"Has anyone ever accused you of being a tease, Evan?" I asked.
Evan laughed, "I can't say they have! Fair enough, there is a legend of a spirit that avenges those who harm nature.
I think it was just something that elders would tell their children, and began telling the white settlers, to scare them off from destroying the forests.
The legend says when the world cries out in pain, the spirit of the forest will awaken and exact revenge upon those who harm nature's beauty."
"What would one have to do to upset this spirit, Evan?" I asked.
Evan looked pensively ahead, "I'm honestly not sure. I would assume something heinous, like setting a forest fire, or pollution, but maybe not! Maybe if the spirit was angry enough, it could be something much smaller, like littering."
"Or carving your initials into a tree?" I asked.
Evan laughed, "Or that, I suppose! You better warn the highschool sweethearts out there, if so!"
We reached the parking lot after some time, by which point I was fairly convinced that Evan was no more than a harmless hiker with a wealth of traditional knowledge.
"I suppose this is where we part ways, detective." Evan announced cheerfully.
"But I never told you I was…" I began.
"A detective? No one asks questions the way a detective does. No offense, Joan, but never go undercover! They'll sniff you out in a heartbeat!" Evan laughed, heading to his pickup truck.
"Have a good rest of your day! And I hope you solve whatever case brought you out here." He called back to me.
"Thanks, Evan. Have a good day." I replied, getting into my car. I felt uneasy about the way he had read me so easily.
There was one more hiking location to check out but I didn't have the location, nor the energy.
The PD was able to get in contact with the first victim and find the location of their hiking spot.
I couldn't handle another hike the same day.
I went home and got some sleep, then poured over the case files looking for any signs that could trace back to Evan or another hiker.
I called up the PD late that night and requested to have an undercover officer watch each of the hiking spots related to the incidents for any usual activity; cars that lingered too long, or people acting funny.
I also asked them to keep an eye out for Evan.
A week came and went and we convened to discuss the case.
The undercover officers had not seen anything unusual, but they HAD seen Evan at each of the three locations.
"Damn." I whispered, I didn't want to have any suspicions about him, he seemed like a good guy, but I couldn't rule him out either.
I had an idea, but I wasn't sure if it would work.
I called up the department and requested backup, I needed someone with experience undercover; a man.
They assigned me David Baler. He was a big, handsome guy in his mid thirties, perfect for the part.
We rented a car and drove out to the woods I had not investigated yet together. I dressed up, if Evan was involved, I didn't need him recognizing me.
"There's his truck." I told him.
"Smallriver's?" He replied.
"Littleriver." I corrected.
"Right, so you think he's our guy?" David asked.
"I don't know. He's the only lead I have." I responded grimly.
"So the deal is, we pretend we're on a date, walk the woods, have a picnic, then go back to a hotel, have a stakeout, and wait to be assaulted?" David asked.
"Yes, so once we leave the car, no detective talk. My name is Amber and yours is John."
"Right, baby." David replied.
I shot him an annoyed look.
"What, just getting in character!" He laughed.
We got out, grabbed our bags and headed onto the trail.
The whole time I kept my eye out for Evan, or anything suspicious.
These woods were much more open, with smaller trees, wider trails, and less shrubs. The views were beautiful, between trickling brooks and fields of flowing green grass.
After an hour we found the campsite they had likely stopped at.
"Alright, let's have our little picnic." I told Dave, and we set out the blanket, started a fire, and had some snacks.
"So how long have you been a… an auditor?" Dave asked me.
"Since I was twenty five. It's sort of a family thing. My dad was an auditor before me. How about you? How long have you been in sales?" I poked at my blond wig, making sure my hair was concealed beneath it.
"Pretty much the same. Right out of college, I knew that's what I wanted to do." He responded, taking a bite out of a sandwich.
If this was a real date, it would be going pretty shit.
"Do you have any pets, Amber?" He asked.
"I work too many hours, I don't really have time for pets. How about you, John?"
"I have a dog. German shepherd, retired police dog. Couldn't ask for a better pet." He answered.
"Must be well trained." I replied, not really being much of a dog person, I didn't know what to say.
"Yeah, he knows a dozen or more commands. I would hate to be the guy that breaks into my house." He laughed.
"Wish we had him at the hotel." I faked a laugh.
If someone was listening, we hardly needed a dog scaring them off. The whole point was to lure them in.
We finished our food, and started picking up our picnic to go when Dave stopped and walked over to the trees.
"What's up?" I asked.
"One last thing." He pulled out his knife, and sunk it into the tree, slowing carving J + A into the bark.
When he finished, he looked at the woods surrounding us, as if goading on anyone watching.
It made me uncomfortable, I couldn't quite pinpoint why. It was like the mood of the woods had changed. The birds seemed quieter; the wind went still.
He folded his knife up and stuck it back in his pocket. "Alright, Amber, let's get back to the hotel. We're staying at the Moonlight Inn, room thirty seven, right?" He asked loudly.
"Y-yes, John. That's the one." I answered.
"Great, can't wait to get back for a little drink and some fun!" He smiled, and waited for me by the trail, and we walked back to the car together.
When we got back to the parking lot, Evan's truck was still there, although we had not seen him the entire time.
Could he have been watching us?
We drove back to the hotel as the sun was setting, and brought our things inside.
"I'm going to take a shower, if you wouldn't mind staying watch and getting things set up. You can go after me." I told Dave.
"Sure thing." He answered, and radioed the surveillance van outside.
We had cameras on all corners of the building, microphones, and backup nearby.
I should feel pretty safe.
But I didn't.
It was like the ill temperament of the woods had followed me back to the hotel. As I washed my hair, I kept feeling the need to peek out of the shower curtain to check that I was alone.
I dried off, dressed, and stepped back out into the main room, putting my gun holster back on.
"I'll put on some coffee, do you want to wash up?" I asked. He smelled terrible, and I was hopeful he would say yes.
"Sure thing, thanks!" Dave answered, and left to take his shower.
It was dark now, and I shut off the overhead lights, leaving just the bedside lamps on.
Dave came back out of the bathroom not long after, shirtless and toweling himself off.
I grimaced, "Cover up, big boy, we don't have to take the act this far."
"Haha, sorry, I guess I'm feeling a bit too at home here." He answered, pulling a shirt on.
"It's getting late, I think it's time for lights out soon." I told him.
"Right, let me get settled in." Dave grabbed a big mug of coffee, shut off the lights and opened his laptop.
On our screens we had an IR camera feed of the surrounding property. No one was going to come or go without us knowing.
I kept watching, expecting Evan's truck to pull into the parking lot at any moment.
Nine o'clock turned to ten, to eleven, and before I knew it, it was one in the morning with no signs of Evan.
I had started nodding off, when Dave woke me, "Hey, why don't you get some rest. I'll keep watch, we've got six people watching, I think we'll be okay. I have a feeling Evan is going to be a no show."
"Sure." I answered, and headed to the bed to sleep.
I'm not sure how long it had been when I awoke to the screaming.
I flipped on the bedside lamp to see Dave standing in the middle of the room, his shirt soaked in blood. There appeared to be a shadow, cast on the wall beside his own. By the shadows, it appeared like a thin, tall person was standing next to him, but I couldn't see anyone there with my own eyes.
I watched as wounds opened on Dave's skin, climbing from his hands, up his white shirt, coming closer and closer to his chest.
"Holy shit! Dave!" I shouted.
The shadow turned and looked at me, but still, nothing was there.
I flipped on all the lights, and the wounds stopped, the shadow disappeared. Dave fell to the floor, gushing blood from the cuts which had reached the outer edges of his chest and the tops of his thighs.
He was screaming in agony, just repeating "Please stop, oh God, please!" When the backup crew burst in the door, as I made the call for paramedics.
Dave was taken to the hospital where it took over six hundred stitches to mend his wounds, and he was heavily medicated for weeks.
I started going back to the hiking trails, looking for Evan.
When I found him again, two weeks later, I told him my story.
He stared into the woods for a long time before responding.
"Detective, I don't think you're the kind to lie to me, but I can't help but wonder how I am to believe this story."
"I don't know why you should either, Evan. I can barely believe it myself." I responded.
"Listen, detective, I'm just the son of a son of a son of a man who once knew about things like this. Whatever truth there may be to these stories has died generations ago. If you're looking for answers, or a resolution, I have none to provide you.
If you're looking to stop this thing, I can't help you.
I'm just a man who loves to hike, with a native bloodline.
I am no mystic nor shaman, nor tribal leader or any sort.
I wish you luck, and I'm sorry about your fellow officer.
I hope it doesn't happen again."
And he walked away.
I let him, because I didn't know what else to ask or say.
After all, he was just a modern man, regardless of his blood. I couldn't expect him to have the answers I sought.
I spent years searching for tribal leaders and anyone with ancestral knowledge who would talk to me about what I saw, but they all turned me away, and treated me like I was crazy.
I guess I'll have to find my own way to make peace with the forest.

So, I joined a new DayZ server a month ago. Went with one with a lot of mods just to get a feel for the new mods. And let me tell you, I ain't leaving anytime soon. It's got wicked cars, awesome helicopters so you can get that gorgeous view of DeerIsle, and scout all the bases below to raid on the weekends. Once you join the discord, you will be greeted with events, giveaways, support from admins and owner with ease. No waiting days for a response to a simple ticket. Events are happening every saturday, or every other Saturday. Wipe free til December. Raids are weekends only, so you won't have to stress at your 9-5 about Jimmy Bob and his friends blowing up your base with C4. They start you out with 500k, food, water, and the basic survival tools. It's up to you to decide how you wanna go with it. You wanna be the CIA? They got guns and drugs for you to sell. Kraven the Hunter? Average 50k a deer. Wanna be a sleazy car salesmen, they've got em all. PVP everywhere except the trader 1 and 2. Get in while it's still hot! Here are a list of just SOME of the mods you can find in this bomb-ass server.
LastDayZDeerIslePVP500kRaid WeekendsKeycardsHeliBoatHordes
185.38.149.31:2302 (Game Port) discord.gg/EMUKWJ92E6

• Dabs Framework
• ZomBerry Admin Tools
• DayZ Editor Loader
• TraderFixesAndFeatures
• Trader Mod
• Cheytac M200 from ArmA 2 Port
• FlipTransport
• PsychoGaming Vehicles
• BuilderItems
• Modular Vest System
• DrugsPLUS
• CannabisPlus
• Marijuana Baler Enhanced
• Ear Plugs
• NoVehicleDamage
• Unlimited Stamina
• BulletStacksPlusPlus
• SchanaModCompass
• VanillaPlusPlusMap
• Flying Birds!
• MuchCarKey
• graphical killfeedFIX
• WindstrideClothing
• BaseBuildingPlus
• ZT Vending Machine
• Server Information Panel
• AdvancedBanking
• SchanaModParty
• SchanaModGlobalChat
• SimpleAutorun
• Gas-Pump-Refueling
• R22R Storage Overhaul
• R22R_Base_Fortifications
• Lumber Yard
• Proxy Search Framework
• VendingSearch
• WickedRV
• Hummer_H2_v2
• Humvee (HMMWV) M1151
• Care Packages
• MuchStuffPack
• Advanced Weapon Scopes
• TeddysWeaponPack
• Mass'sManyItemOverhaul
• OverGrowN
• InventoryPlusPlus
• Airdrop-Upgraded
• Disable Temperature
• ArmA 2 Props Pack
• Collectable Items
• SNAFU_Weapons
• Tweaks Items PacK
• Saline Bag+
• Mortys Weapons
• Munghards itempack
• AllCountryFlags
• BaseBuildingItemStackandRepair
• CodeLock
• BreachingCharge RaidSchedule Compatibility
• Breachingcharge
• RaidSchedule
• BuildAnywhere_v3
• DeerIsle
• Spurgles Trolley Kart
• LastDayZServerPack
• zSpawnSelectionFixed
• PvZmoD The Dark Horde
• Helicopter landing pad
• DNA Keycards
• MoreFood
• Base Fortifications
• Gerphelius Zil-130
• BBPItemPack
• GunnerTruck
• IRP Land Rover Defender 110
• RareAnimals
• Community Framework
• dayztrader
• Expansion
• HelicopterDDR
• MDC

I bought an s14 a few weks or so ago now out of Alberta (Calgary) and I live in B.C so the car had to go to a shop for inspection and it failed so its "illegal" to be on the roads in my province unless I do a lot of work to it. It's a 1995 s14 with the s15 front end swap, hood, lights, bumper + fenders. It's FMI so the horns on the crash bar were cut off that's the major thing that failed the car. basically I need to restore the car to a stock state of body s14..
My dad knows a guy who's really good at welding and we might be able to make a custom crash bar that would pass structure testing and inspection but then I need to go stock body to also pass.. now here lies the title of my post.
Since my car is a Zenki and finding OEM zenki parts has been impossible for me I thought about converting it to a Kouki, I've found OEM front + rear bumpers, hood, corner lights and headlights along with headlight brackets. Cant find fenders yet though but is it possible to fit all the Kouki body parts to a 95 Zenki?
currently the car is fore sale to be sold back to Alberta but I've had no real interest in it other than low balers and shitty trades. It's my dream car so i don't really wanna just give up and I've priced everything out and for my lower budget it's doable but is the conversion actually possible?
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Edit: I found a video of a dude actually doing this, converting a zenki front end to a Kouki. I'm going to keep the post up though encase anyone has anyth other input/help