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My fanfiction - episode 4!
2024.05.22 00:01 ikieneng My fanfiction - episode 4!
 | The next part is here! This episode is so long that I had to split it, and today, you're finally getting part 3 of 3. submitted by ikieneng to teamleanne [link] [comments] You can find the previous episodes in the side bar! (Community info page in the app) DISCLAIMERS (the same ones as before) The point of this fanfiction is not to be a straight-up continuation of events with the same themes, intensity, and tone. If you go into it with those expectations, you are probably not going to like it. Rather, it’s supposed to be how I wish things went if these events were real life. The resolution you want for a real-life situation isn’t often the right choice for a show, but it can be incredibly beautiful. Think of what you’re about to read to be a separate show then. Episode 1 of this fanfiction begins after the episode “2:00” (season 2 episode 4), so it replaces the episode “Cake” and the ones that follow it. This fanfiction expects you to have seen the entirety of seasons 1 and 2, so you should watch those first. I myself am bursting into the story here. The narrator and me are the same. While my character is like 95% real me, don’t take events about my life described here as facts. Some aspects of my life have been changed for the story. In my head, I started writing like an “alternate me” character in 2016, fulfilling a lot of the things that I wish I had in life, adding that to my story. I’m not really from Ukraine. I speak fluent Ukrainian as a foreign language, I started learning it in 2014, and I’ve talked to tons of people from there, but I’m not from Ukraine. I also don’t have as much money as I do in the story. I wish lmao. If you want to post your own fanfiction, feel free to do so! To get your own post flair for your fanfic, and to appear in the side bar, please message me. Part 3 (days 3 and 4) We’d wake up on day three, and still, nothing would be any different - we’re still locked up. We’d both feel really worried not knowing if we’ll have to forfeit our whole plan because we might run out of food and water and take the risky route - calling the police and getting ourselves into a situation where we’d have to be freed by force, which would be so dangerous because the Turners have proven that there’s nothing they’re not prepared to do to us to “get Jericho back”. Leanne would ask me “What do we do if we call the police, and Mrs. Turner comes up here and tries to hurt us?” At first, I’d insist that we start thinking about that when we do run out of food the next day, but she’d insist we should come up with a plan. I’d point at the corner on the edge of the attic facing Spruce Street, the corner that’s to one’s right when coming up into the attic, https://preview.redd.it/knoz0zwpou1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=bd1694f292bb546ea45339ebecea7ffacfe33541 and say “Then you’d curl up and hide over there, and I’d take the radio, you’d take the metronome, and I’d sit down in front of you, shielding you, and if she gets in here before the cops do, we’ll defend ourselves. And we’d record everything on my phone. And we should probably hide behind the sofa. Maybe then, she might not notice we’re still up here at first. She’d probably be in a state of panic.” She’d look at me with sad, but touched eyes and just hug me and say thank you. I’d reply “Of course”. After some silence, I’d tell her “If anything happens to me… Please bring me back”. She’d be touched by that, but say that if she reanimates me, the Church of Lesser Saints will come after ME as well because they’ll believe that I’ll be obligated to join. With a worried smile, I’d say “I know... But they’re probably already gonna do that, right? Because I won’t let them get to you!” We’d both nod with the same half-happy, half-worried expression. “And if things go terribly wrong and you have to bring me back, we can try again!” I’d ask if I’m getting it right that the “great sins” they think she’s committing are not spending time with the Church and helping another family from the one that was assigned to her. She’d say yes and add that there’s a lot more they hate her for, like her “disobedient and rebellious streak”, disobeying their instructions, putting curses on people, and now, leaving the Marinos. https://preview.redd.it/4obn4r9uou1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1e77adafbde221c320999ba1169adb0a1c6b2b17 After a few seconds of silence (out of shock that this is how the Church of Lesser Saints frames it), I’d be like “If you disobey so many of their instructions, then...”, look her directly in the eyes, and go “Good! Keep on disobeying them! I’m actually kind of stunned that this is how they frame your actions, because that is so manipulative. Wanting to have a life where you don’t have to worry about your every step being watched and controlled, where you can actually freely explore what you believe – not what they tell you to believe, but what YOU believe, where you can do totally normal human things like listen to music, and where you can go wherever you want and make some basic decisions for yourself and work wherever you want, that doesn’t make you...” (doing the “quote-on-quote” with my hands while I say it) “quote-on-quote ‘disobedient’ or ‘rebellious’, it makes you a normal human being. If they forbid every little thing that people do that makes you happy, if you then look for happiness elsewhere, that’s on them. You can’t take every bit of joy away from people and then expect them to just deal with it. You wanting to run away, that’s the logical result of their bullshit. And you didn’t ‘leave’ the Marinos, you were taken. Don’t let them think you’re at fault in any way!” She might have never heard any verbal confirmation before that her feelings about leaving are valid, and this would be so reassuring to her. She’d tell me that whenever she did things like not be there for meals at the Church, skip assemblies, or curse people without permission, she would be brought before May and the rest of the community, get questioned about her behavior, and she’d have to self-flagellate to receive forgiveness. https://preview.redd.it/roex7c20pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=32cecf94a41a97e66b1c74967cb074ca89321777 I’d go really still and quiet when she mentions the self-flagellation, which she’d then explain is a frequent punishment. That would freaking break my heart... I’d ask her when was the last time she hurt herself, and it was a little less than two weeks ago, before she was forced to leave the Turners. Very carefully and quietly, I’d ask her if it would be okay if she can show me her scars and add “You do NOT have to if you’re not comfortable, PLEASE don’t do it if you’re not”, and after a second, she’d nod and show me her back. My heart would break for her even more seeing her scars, I’d just express how horrible it is that they made her do that… I’d show her some of my cut wounds from when I self-harmed, which I hadn’t done in like three and a half years at that point. I’d want her to know that way that I get the urge, that I really do, but I’d tell her that hurting oneself achieves nothing. All it does is make you feel horrible mentally and physically, and every time you do it, there’s a risk of infection and even death. I’d just tell her I understand while taking her in my arms. I’d ask her to please look me in the eyes and tell me she won’t hurt herself again, and that when she feels like doing it again, to please talk to me first. She’d quietly say “I promise” while looking me in the eyes, and after some longer embraces, we’d both smile a bit, that would make me really happy to hear! I’d ask that when we’re out of here, if we can call a doctor sometime soon and get them to look at her scars to make sure none of them are infected, if she’s comfortable enough, and she’d nod and smile at me a little bit some more. We’d eat after that. We’d run out of tomato soup that meal, and I’d tell her that when we’re getting out of there, I’d get her all the tomato soup in the world! “We’re gonna fill a whole hotel fridge with tomato soup!” “And with Ben & Jerry’s?”, she’d ask, and I’d say yes and say that we’re probably gonna need more than one fridge. I’d say we’re gonna pick the nicest and most expensive hotel to stay at, an idea that she’d love! “You still think Allentown is a good idea?”, I’d ask her, and she’d think my reasoning from the day before makes sense and say yes. We’d look for the nicest hotel in Allentown online and see that there are “only” three-star hotels in Allentown. Leanne would ask if getting such an expensive place to stay is really okay, and I’d say “Money is not an issue, don’t worry about it” while reaching across her back and like caressing her right shoulder, looking her in the eyes, and smiling. “And besides, let’s spoil you, you fucking deserve it after all this!” We wouldn’t book anything yet because we wouldn’t know when we can get out of there yet, but looking at all those insanely nice hotels would lift our spirits a bit. After eating the first half of that day’s rations (only two half day’s rations would be left after that…), we’d think that it would probably be a good idea if we started writing the document for the police right now. Writing it can take hours upon hours, and there’s no point in delaying the rescue to write the document after I leave if we can do it right now, so we’d begin right that moment. It would begin something like “My name is Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999 in Odesa, Ukraine, residing in 501 Pembroke Ave, Philadelphia 19050, Pennsylvania...” (I don’t live there. I have no idea who does. Please leave them alone lmao) “...I sent this statement to my Facebook friend Liam [...] (residing in Tipperary, Ireland, using Facebook as Liam [...]) as a PDF file and told him to call the Philadelphia police and read this statement to them if I don’t come back online and confirm that I’m okay by 10 PM Philadelphia time / 3 PM London, UK time on December 22, 2022. If he is reading this to you, it probably means that there was no sign of life from me by that time, and that I’m not safe, probably kidnapped and locked up by Dorothy Turner, Sean Turner, Julian (I’m not sure about his surname, but I’m referring to Dorothy Turner’s brother - redhead, not very tall, moderately overweight) in the attic of their residence at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania”, and then document everything I’ve seen in chronological order and everything that Leanne has told me, with a link to our video and photographic evidence, references to DNA evidence that can probably be found in the hole in the basement if they haven’t covered it up by now, and a statement at the end saying that I’ve written it together with Leanne to make sure that everything is correct. That would take a really long time, hours for sure. But when it’s done, I’d run spell- and grammar checks on it and send it to my printer at home, to be queued for printing when I get home and turn it on. We’d also know that today (December 21) or tomorrow will be the day when we leave one way or another, so I’d schedule a text message to 911 in 30 hours from that moment. The message would say “This is a scheduled message. If you’ve received it, then Leanne Grayson (born October 13, 2001)...” (We only ever learn Leanne’s birth year from the gravestone. October 13 is Nell Tiger Free’s birthday, so October 13, 2001 being Leanne’s birthday is kind of my headcanon) https://preview.redd.it/0hr9niq1pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=4dbead2015781ed8beee236188b8273aac1b3fb0 “...and me (Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999) are probably not safe, abducted and locked up against our will by Dorothy Turner, her brother Julian, and Sean Turner in the attic of their house at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania or somewhere else on the property. We need help immediately. The Turners should be considered dangerous and very clearly willing to use violence and intimidation. We need help NOW. Details in our prepared statement: [the link]”. Because we’re holding out hope that we won’t have to call the police from inside the attic, the document would include information on what our plan is to get Leanne (and me) out of there as safely as possible and call the police from the taxi, but that if we run out of rations, we won’t have a choice but to call the police while we’re unarmed and while the Turners still have the upper hand. We would debate whether we should include information about the Church of Lesser Saints right away or tell the police about them later because we know how that sounds, considering that this would hurt the credibility of our testimony, https://preview.redd.it/sinvabf3pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=e37811b53eb90cb8a066bfcb30f6244bb9f34ad4 but we’d modify the document and include the most important information about them as well, with more believable explanations - how they forced Leanne and other members to self-harm (meaning that current members or those who recently left), where they’re currently operating from in Lancaster, https://preview.redd.it/mxbm8445pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1f9b5f1c671c15afce7149eeb90926c2c29b9bdb that they faked their deaths, that they forced Leanne to leave the Turners, and the necessary lie that they took the real baby, and that Leanne hasn’t seen it since that day and doesn’t know where they’ve taken it. We’d also include names and stuff, and most importantly, reference the baptism tape and say that it shows May and George watching us from the sidewalk outside the church less than three weeks ago, and that piece of evidence would change everything in regards to investigating the Church of Lesser Saints and make the police believe us. We’d add that it’s probably among the other DVDs in the Turners’ living room, and that I’ll try to get it when leaving the building if our original plan is still going to be an option, rip the DVD at home, and add a link to the video file to the document. We’d modify the scheduled text message as well, and we’d charge both phones, mine first because the scheduled message is so important, but it’s an iPhone, so we could charge it to 100% rather quickly and then charge hers. And we’d add that we’d want the police to get Leanne’s things from the Marino estate. All her stuff being there would be further evidence that she was taken suddenly and against her will. We’d also add what number Leanne can be reached at for now with the Samsung Galaxy phone. And then, I’d send the document to Liam on all platforms where I know how to reach him, followed by a message to alert the authorities if I’m not back online confirming that we’re both okay in what’s now probably more like 29 hours, the phone number of the Philadelphia police, and caps at the beginning saying that it’s an actual emergency. Out of nowhere, I’d ask her if she’s seen “Titanic” lmao, and with her near total isolation growing up, she wouldn’t have seen it. “I’ve only seen movies on TV”. I’d be like “I can show you lots of movies if you want! I got several subscriptions to streaming services, and also a bunch of stuff offline on an external drive at home.” https://preview.redd.it/lr58woa7pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=63537b149270faeebb2c3f1be9ba2af0d259e1b7 Back on talking about “Titanic”, I’d tell her it’s wonderful and so freaking romantic, albeit over-the-top at times for sure and a bit overrated. It has that glossy feeling and some superficial characters to it that all James Cameron movies have, but it’s still really wonderful. After explaining the plot to her (since she’s grown up so isolated), I’d tell her about one scene that I’m thinking about a lot from time to time - near the end of the movie, when old Rose is done telling the researchers her story, she says that she doesn’t even have a picture of Jack, and that has hit me so hard from the first time I’ve seen the movie. https://preview.redd.it/96bgw8s8pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=476c1a4cbee498c26a0be4651ef83258f0aa7748 She has no physical memories of him, she can never see his face again, and she can never show people what he looked like. That just rips my heart. I’d ask Leanne if we can take some pictures together. We’d look pretty horrible because we haven’t been able to shower in days, but we wouldn’t care and take them anyway and really, genuinely smile so hard. I’d send them to her email address (leanne_grayson@icloud.com, that email address is on her resume in the show), https://preview.redd.it/frfz9e7apu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1b65065ab622e71f52edc6e9b84a2974e7efe9cb manually sync my gallery with iCloud, and I’d send them to Liam. I’d ask what phone she got back at the Marinos’ and if she’s got any pictures of herself in her iCloud gallery, but she’d tell me she’s rarely ever taken pictures of herself, only for the resume she applied at the Turners’ for, and I’d be like “Whaaaaat? But you’re so beautiful!”, and she’d smile hard, a bit embarrassed. I’d look her straight in the eyes and say it again and say that I mean it for real, she is so incredibly beautiful! It’s probably so rare that anyone’s ever said that to her in her entire life (her mother definitely didn’t, and given that the Church of Lesser Saints believes that anything that feels good is dangerous, https://preview.redd.it/msylzejbpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=b343bf8d10b86f7c731eed3c8a5204460daec4d4 it’s rather unlikely that they did), Tobe saying it in “Balloon” might even have been the only time ever… https://preview.redd.it/jdce6tndpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=c9edaacd72634c3dbe7dbf29abcc84f2412a10d4 I’d then add “Inside AND out!”, and she’d smile some more in a bit of embarrassment and then look me in the eyes and say “You, too, Daria!”, and as you’d expect, I’d smile so hard and even with my eyes! It would be rather late by then, so we’d eat and listen to some more music together from the Spotify playlist I created for her and talk so much about what we’re hearing. After dinner, she’d bring the topic up on her own (this is kind of making fun of these fan theories) - she’d tell me that some in the Church of Lesser Saints think she’s the Devil or Lilith because of her rebelliousness, and how she’s inspired doubt in some people in the Church. I’d make such a weirded-out face. After realizing she’s serious, I’d say “If you are the Devil, then hail Satan! Like, seriously, if YOU are what God is threatening will happen if we don’t follow him, then that’s literally the weakest threat I’ve ever heard of. Then God is the villain here. We need more people like you in the world!” Shy as she still is, she’d still be almost embarrassed to hear this (she’s so not used to compliments), and I’d make it clear I’m serious, that I really think she’s fricking wonderful and the sweetest, and that she clearly has a huge heart full of so much love, and that she deserves so much better than what she’s ever experienced! Almost in denial, she’d see in my eyes that I really mean it and just smile and hug me, and then, we’d both smile even more! I’d rub her back a lot in that moment and promise her again that everything will be okay. “I’ll make sure of that!” After some more music together, knowing that tomorrow will be the day we leave, no matter which plan we’ll go with, we’d make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. Looking around, I’d realize I have to give her my earphones with a cord because the internal mic of my Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini is essentially useless. I’d tell her that when I call her the next day to tell her it’s safe to come downstairs now, she should answer the call, plug in the earphones, and then, it will take a few seconds until I can hear her, but then, it should be fine. We’d set a code phrase that I’ll mention to let her know if the Turners got me and it’s NOT safe to come down. She’d suggest “tomato soup”, and I’d smile and say yes, that’s gonna be our code phrase. “And if it IS safe to come down?”, she’d ask, and I’d suggest “ice cream”. I’d realize that we should probably find her fresh clothes in the attic and a coat right now, so as I said, it’s not too obvious that she’s been locked up for a long time the second she walks out of the door, because if she’s in dirty clothes or nightwear, with it being obvious that she hasn’t showered in days, and I get her out of there and into a taxi to drive off while I got a gun, it would look as if I was kidnapping her, so we’d find her a nice dress and coat up there, and I’d turn around and close my eyes while she puts it on, and when she’s done, I’d tell her again that she looks amazing! 😊 https://preview.redd.it/zp5gbjwfpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=777d2120f72b5002e2d5e5e9ffe4760ab2d5fada And she’d smile and thank me this time, sort of the way she says it to the makeup artist at the street fair in S3E5 “Tiger” in that typical way of hers that’s so adorable for real, https://preview.redd.it/fuu6x7ohpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=ec5f23b8de4568996bd6e4c706ab4f95b8f98063 and she’d look in my direction and say “You look really beautiful, too!”, really shy, before peeking me in the eyes for a moment, and we’d just look at each other for a moment. “Can I have your pictures?”, she’d ask me, and I’d say yeah, open my iPhone, and select ALL pictures of myself in my gallery and send them to her email address, and send her those that are too large via a Google Drive link (iCloud isn’t great for sharing files lol), and then, I’d take her Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini, download them all (which would take a while because that phone is ancient), and set one of the pictures we’ve taken together as her wallpaper, and then set it as my wallpaper on my iPhone as well! 😊 We’d consider if there’s anything else we’ve missed. She’d mention that parts of the floor screech, especially one tile, so when I sneak out, I gotta be careful on the stairs, especially with that one tile. https://preview.redd.it/nijqz08jpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=6f6756ae6c304a5f5133c21ef857e0f91c6c91d7 After a few seconds, she’d ask me if we wanna book a hotel now, and I’d smile and say sure! “Did you like any hotels in particular, out of the ones we looked at?” She’d say “The one with the big jacuzzi looks great” with big eyes and enthusiasm in her voice, like she does during some of her conversations with Tobe in S3E5 “Tiger”. “You’ve ever been in a jacuzzi?”, I’d ask her, and she’d go “Nooo, but I wanna try!” in the same tone, https://preview.redd.it/6rh2p63lpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=987a19161b85fe5ee6a500f452c168ba7dec961b and so, after lying down now, we’d look up which hotel she was talking about and book a two-room suite in that hotel in Allentown for three weeks. I’d add “So we can easily look out for each other, and so you’ll also have some privacy.”, and she’d smile and nod, that consideration would probably mean a lot to her. We’d then get ready for bed. For the next day, I’d get some better clothes as well and put them on while she’s turned around with her eyes closed. I’d take the last ration of food out of my backpack, put the clothes I just took off at the bottom of it, above Leanne’s Bible (the porcelain baby and card are already in one of the other pockets), and put my phone and the chargers in another pocket. I’d look around and ask her if there’s anything else I should take with me to safeguard, and at first, she’d also look around because she wouldn’t know how to answer right away, but she’d then point at Mrs. Barrington with her face, https://preview.redd.it/amqsh2mmpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=12d0bfe376210a8798671d45f31e96e28037870b and I’d be like “Well, I think she’s a little too big for my backpack, but I can talk to the police when we’re out of here, maybe we can try to get her!”, and Leanne would nod with a big smile again. We’d lie down on the mattress and share the covers again. Just like the night before, I’d lie down on the side of the mattress that’s closer to the stairs, in case Dorothy changes her mind and tries to assault Leanne again… On the mattress, she’d suddenly hug me really tight, break into tears, and thank me over and over again, and I’d just hold her tight, say “Of course”, and assure her that everything’s gonna be okay, that we’ll get out of there tomorrow. I’d wipe some of her tears off her face 🥺 On the mattress, we’d just look each other in the eyes and both just smile more and more, and after a minute or two, she’d kiss me on the lips for a tiiiiny moment and then, we’d just smile at each other even harder! She’d say “I’m not supposed to do that” while still smiling just as hard and looking me directly in the eyes! “Says who?”, I’d reply. She goes “My aunts and uncles”, and I’d say “I don’t think they’re a reliable source!”, and we’d kiss each other some more and longer, and both feel each other’s smile on our lips, and peek at each other a few times in between 😊🥰❤️ We’d both put our arms around each other before telling each other good night and before I promise her one more time it’s all going to be okay! https://preview.redd.it/08fqmdqspu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=477498f6f3e6260f2a0429defebf98475b14eda1 At some point during the night, she’d wake me up, and when she does, I’d realize I had a nightmare, like, not from my night terrors, and she’d tell me I had a nightmare, that I was sniffling in my sleep, and that I told her two days earlier to wake me up if this happens. Still feeling terrible (the feeling of immediate dread always takes a while to subside for me), I’d thank her. I’d ask what I was saying, and she’d say that I wasn’t speaking English. I’d consider if I should tell her for a moment, but then, I’d take a deep breath, look up for a second, and with a heavy voice, slowly say “What if we try plan A tomorrow, and I fail? I’m scared… I don’t wanna mess this up… I don’t wanna fail you…” And she’d slowly look at me and just say two words: “You haven’t!” I’d look at her and almost laugh a bit out of joy. I’d smile and just cuddle up to her a bit, and she’d do it back. I’d say I’ll try to listen to music for a while to calm down because doing something else makes it much easier for me to zone out of the feeling of dread again. “Why only you?”, she’d ask. “I don’t wanna keep you awake”, I’d say, “You need the sleep”, and she’d say “It’s okay” and just smile a bit, and so, we’d listen to some music together for about half an hour. I’d tell her that my sleep is so horrible (she’d say she can tell) because I don’t have my meds, and I’m really fricking looking forward to taking them again. Without them, the quality of my sleep is terrible, and it takes so long for me to fall asleep at all if I don’t take them. She’d ask if I’ve taken them for a long time, and I’d say that I haven’t taken these particular meds for long because whatever I take, my body builds up some resistance to them pretty quickly, so after a while, I always have to get new ones, but I’ve taken sleeping meds for years now. “It sounds like they’re really helping you, right?”, she’d ask, and I’d nod and say “Yeah, they really do. I’m also taking antidepressants, and they were an absolute gamechanger for me. It’s okay if I don’t take them for a few days because they don’t work in the moment, but they like rewire your brain over time, and they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my mental health. Before I started taking them, it was so hard for me to avoid bad thoughts or resist them, like, it was hell, but ever since then, it got sooo much easier, and not letting things get to me or not letting bad things really take over me is just so much easier now.” After a while, I’d say “I was at a psychiatric clinic voluntarily for six months, but I also had nowhere else to go, and the doctors and employees really abused their power. They only intervened when there was physical violence, they didn’t intervene in any other conflicts, so because of them, the patients constantly bullied each other. My doctor switched to another department while I was there, so I got a new one, and the new one wasn’t perfect, but at least, she cared. I got really lucky to get a place at a living group for mentally ill people, which was when I could finally leave. But honestly, all my experiences with mental health professionals since then have been better. I went to a different clinic for four or five days voluntarily in 2019, and even they were far better. “That sounds scary…”, she’d say. I’d reply “It was. But things got much better after that. I had lots of setbacks, like, you know, but if you get help, it’s always better.” After the current song’s over, we’d lie down to try and sleep again. We’d smile at each other again in bed, and I’d give her a short-ish kiss before saying good night, and we’d both smile even harder after that 😁 And we would fall asleep for good after a while (it would still take me longer than her). In the morning, Leanne would wake me up again. She’d show me that the door is unlocked and open by a little bit now (they’re “letting” her out for a few hours…), https://preview.redd.it/sqql9udupu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=b2505bc6f7795639777433a1897f0d31e5753d67 and we’d both just embrace and chuckle in huge joy, as we can go with plan A now, the less risky one! We’d remember to quiet down after a few seconds and whisper from then on out. I’d go to the toilet roll, take eight pieces, rip them into two bands of four pieces each, and roll each of them up into a little bunch. I’d give them to her and tell her to put them into the wall pieces of the door when she gets out (so it looks like the door is closed while it can’t actually lock) and give me an audible signal when the third floor is clear, so I’ll get out with my backpack, take out the toilet paper, and hide in her room. https://preview.redd.it/bzze2o6wpu1d1.png?width=304&format=png&auto=webp&s=aaa155b611408db6e9960485f6f726125fc2698d “Is there anything you want me to get from there?”, I’d ask. “No. Everything is here or at the Marinos’.” I’d go “Okay” and move on - since I’m almost definitely unable to come down to the second floor right away (I’m using American English in all of these episodes. “First floor” in American English = “ground floor” in British English; “Second floor” in American English = “first floor” in British English; “Third floor” in American English = “second floor” in British English, etc.), she’d give me a signal when coming back upstairs. We’d agree that when she comes back upstairs, if it’s safe to go to the second floor, she’d shout something, maybe in conversation, maybe some sort of cry, doesn’t matter, and if not, she’d kick something. She’d be locked upstairs again after that, so I’ll have to tell when to get further downstairs myself, which I’d do as soon as I’ve heard absolutely no sounds from inside the house for at least a few minutes. On the first floor, I’d get the DVD from March 11, 2001, and if the baptism tape isn’t clearly labeled among the tapes, I’d unplug the DVD player from the TV, turn on the player, open the DVD slot, and if the tape isn’t in there, I’d take all unlabeled tapes. I’d then listen in on the basement door for a few seconds, and if I hear no sounds from down there, I’d quietly open the basement door and go downstairs, and if no one’s there, I’d get out through the side entrance down there, out through the back gate, walk back to Spruce Street, drive my bike home, take a shower, watch the tape from March 11, 2011 like she told me I could, hide it somewhere at home, print out the document for the police, take it with me in an envelope, print out a second version of it to give to the taxi driver, so I can say “If I’m not back in an hour, please call the police for me and read this to them”. I’d then call a taxi (a taxi with a large trunk whose driver is allowed to drive to Allentown and back), load my gun, and leave for the Turners’ and get Leanne. We’d see that Liam has replied by now. Of course, he’d be super worried, but he’s got our backs for the plan, and that would be really reassuring. We’d look each other in the eyes, and then, I’d hug her sooo tight for several seconds, and we’d have one loooong kiss (hoping it’s not the last time we see each other…) before she goes downstairs while looking back at me on the way before putting the toilet paper in the door. I’d then put on my backpack. Once Leanne loudly shouts “Mister Turner?”, that would be my signal, and I’d hide in her room for about 45 minutes before she’s “let” back upstairs and shouts “You can lock me in now, Mrs. Turner”, https://preview.redd.it/uy9loclypu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=16abd51170405f1ef3123ff22f4559642a0c0c92 which is when I’d sneak into the storage/guest room and wait. It would take like five hours until I hear nothing for a while, which is when I’d sneak onto the first floor, look around to make extra sure no one’s there, and go to the living room. I’d get the tape from March 11, 2011, and the baptism tape would be among the labeled DVDs, and I’d put it into the box of the March 11, 2011 tape (I’d put the original DVD loose in there and use the spot inside the box for the baptism tape because it’s probably more important. I then wouldn’t hear anything from the basement, so I’d slowly and quietly go down there. No one would be there, so I’d leave as planned and go home and take a shower. I’d watch the March 11, 2011 DVD. I’d be surprised to see the interaction between Leanne and Dorothy for sure, but sort of knowing her, I wouldn’t think anything bad of it. I’d actually get it because of my past celebrity crushes (which I know isn’t what she was feeling for Dorothy) and the desire to meet them, especially with Blanche. I’d get why Leanne wouldn’t want the police to see it, it would look bad for her. I’d wrap up the DVD in a thick piece of paper and tape it to the back of my closet, between the closet and the wall. I’d burn the piece of paper in the DVD case in my bathtub with a bucket of water next to me just in case. I’d test if the DVD of the baptism tape still works (it does), rip it, upload the video file to Google Drive, add it to the document for the police, cancel my printing queue, print the document (two versions of it. The one for the taxi driver would just have a short introduction at the beginning, like, that I’m the person who ordered the taxi), order the taxi, pack my things for the next couple of weeks and anything that Leanne might need, so I’d include any clothes that I think could fit her, and go to the taxi. I’d tell the driver to get me one block away from 9780 Spruce Street (which isn’t actually a real address, by the way) and wait there for me. Before leaving for the Turner house, I’d give him the envelope with his version of the letter for the police and tell him what I said I would tell him. I’d then get my backpack with the gun in it from my luggage in the trunk, and walk to the Turners’ house. I have already "written" so much more in my head, but I've now reached the end of what I've actually written down, so it will take longer until the next episode is out now! Hope you've enjooooyed this one! |
2024.05.21 23:22 PWOFalcon As Astra Volume 0, Prolog, Chapter 1, part 1
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1/22/2048 (military calendar)
Campsite, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie
Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore
*****
Looking past the dark horizon of the valley below, all that was seen were the crisp peaks and ridges of the Torness mighty mountains. Above the heights was the final shine of the father of all light, the yellow sun god known as Dorash. It almost seemed like his gaze was taking one last peek at the skirt of Alagore mountain peaks before finally fading to rest.
As the sun fell below the distant mountain peaks, a robust and crisp breeze swept through the valley below, bringing a sudden chill. As expected, the darkness came and got the freezing mountain cold. Everything became pitched black as the only light source came from the starlight flickering high above the dark void. That was until a new light from the campfires illuminated the camp, only so slightly not to be discovered.
The half-elf girl Fraeya Holiadon was not used to this type of cold. Being a forest noble elf who grew up in the warmth of cities, she quickly grabbed her black-white pattern cloak and pulled tightly to remain as warm as possible.
She took a long breath from the thin, chilly air and stared into the massive valley below—forests, lakes, and, in the distance, a glimpse of lights from a nearby town. Everything looked natural and wild, where civilization had struggled to conquer. A sight she rarely saw outside the city walls. She found the scenery incredible. Worth the hellish adventurer across the Torness Mountain Range.
"Stay away from the edge," a Lat said. "We don't want to be spotted."
"Alright," Fraeya replied. She looked at the Lat, surprised at how he stood, defiant of the thin air and freezing temperature. "Are you not cold?"
"Of course, I am," the last warrior said as he returned to the camp. "Living away from civilization, you grow used to such conditions."
As the soldier left, she looked at the valley one last time before heading back toward the camp.
Fraeya saw nearly a hundred soldiers huddling their campfires for warmth, gathering supplies, or standing watch within the camp. They are known as the Palatini of Orias, one of the many Republic elite units within the legionary. They were hand-picked by the Legate for this mission.
As the young girl walked past the palatini, she could see the exhaustion from their mannerisms. Many looked hungry; others tired with dark, deep black bags under their eyes. Others shaking as their bodies adjusted to the night. To her confusion, she also could see the determination within their eyes as the environment was just an annoyance toward their objective.
She wouldn't blame them for their exhaustion as she could feel most of her body sore from the non-stop marching and climbing, she had to endure to get to this point. Something that her professors left out of their classes. A part of her couldn't help but chuckle from how she once thought after graduation from the academy that she was ready to face the challenges of their world. Only now did she understand how little schooling prepared her for the real world.
"What is so funny?" Another Lat said as she passed.
When she turned to the man, she felt a slim nerve of fear that ran through her body, believing that she might have insulted them. While most of them accepted her within the platini, she could tell they saw her as a weakling over a comrade. "I am sorry. I meant no insult. I was remembering my time at the academy."
The man turned back to his friend, commenting on her inexperience.
Fraeya felt sad as this was not her first failed interaction. For the better part of a week, Orias had escorted her and her father across some of the roughest terrains on Aldrida, taking great lengths to avoid enemy forces as their orders were to keep the two elves protected at all cost. As many men had stated, it was a near miracle that they made it this far without being noticed.
From what she understood, the commanding centurion hoped to reach the base of the mountain they were on by tonight. Such delays had become the norm; they had to delay their travels because of enemy patrols. They were hiding for hours because of J'avias' patrols from one of the nearby City-States. As they adventured deeper behind enemy-occupied territory, she expected this problem to worsen.
While the Hispana Republic's detachment for the expedition could have defeated them, the legionnaire leader, Centurion Fionntan Henness, did not want to risk exposing their unit to the enemy. He feared that if the J'avias or one of their puppet races could pass a message to the Unity's regional vassal, the Verliance Aristocracy, their mission would fail, and their last hope for victory would vanish. His superiors had invested in this last-ditch effort to turn the tide of the war to risk it on a small skirmisher with fewer soldiers.
Between the dozen campfires and the dark but illuminated sky lit by their mother Tekali, this side of the mountain range had perfectly trapped the cold air, something that Fraeya Holiadon was struggling to adapt to. As a Noble Elf, she was used to the warmth of the forest and the benefits of civilization from the continent's western side. Not the chill of the alpine.
Hearing a loud howl that echoed through the mountains, clearing coming from another party elsewhere within the area, Fraeya noticed her ride panicking. She quickly rushed over and slowly approached the beast once she got close.
"There, there," Fraeya whispered to her Deerip, a four-legged beast with three horns, light brown long hair fur, and red hoofs.
Noticing that these lands unsettled the beast, a feeling she could relate to, she rubbed the side of the Derrip's neck. Slowly and calmly whispering a song to it as the beast to calm down.
Once the beast was calm, Fraeya reached into her backpack and pulled out a bundle of grass to feed it. "I understand how you feel. This place leaves an unsettling chill down my spine, too. But you need to stay calm."
"If your beast is going to cause trouble, it will be wise to let it free," Henness said as he approached.
Looking at the centurion, Fraeya replied, "he is just startled. Deerips do not usually travel these lands. He needs to get used to being here."
Henness reached into his bag, pulling out a dark red amulet. He then tossed it into a fire pit. One of the other soldiers, a pyromancy battle mage, approached the hole and ignited it with a low-level fire spell. Unlike most red and orange flames, this fire was blackish purple, a type of flame known as dark fire by the commoners.
"Half-Elf, it took us over a week to get here through this dangerous path. These mountains are very unforgiving to wandering passengers, even to the Legion. We are deep behind enemy lines with no support. If Kallam vassals discover us, we will be slaughtered without mercy."
"That is if we are lucky," a Lat said as he sat beside the Dark Fire. "I heard stories of what happens to the prisoners that are handed over to them. I wouldn't subject my worst enemy to such a fate. Especially if a little girl got us caught."
Feeling frustrated and hearing the disrespect from the man's tone, she wanted to march over and warn Henness. While Lats could be civil and possess a strong warrior spirit, she is always surprised by how stubborn they could be.
"What is your issue, Lat? Fraeya asked. "I understand the risks. My father has been studying for this mission longer than you have been alive. I know what is at stake. This legend is our only hope in stopping them."
"Hope?" Henness asked while being unfazed by the young elf's aggressiveness. "The only reason the Legate sponsored this insane mission was that your father already got funds from a Kitsune archivist guild with a questionable reputation. They wanted to eliminate your father to focus on winning the war. They cannot afford to chase fairytales from time immemorial."
"Insane mission?" Fraeya boldly stated. "This quest is not insane, you…, damn Lat! It is the answer! We all know we cannot win the war. They are just too strong. I cannot believe how you, of all people, your kind, should believe in this."
"It is a fool's quest, Fraeya," Henness replied calmly, showing his military discipline. "Look at what we are doing." Allowing himself to collect his thoughts, he sat by the Dark Fire. "We are looking for an ancient relic, a Lat-Orc folktale that allows you to travel to another world. Hundreds of sages like your father have looked for this and other relics over the centuries. Even your father was proven wrong on this subject. There is a reason why the Guilds and his own people disowned his research."
The legend of an ancient relic from a lost age was an everyday fairytale throughout the continent of Aldrida. A Bridge that connected Alagore to the world known as Altaerrie. Her father discovered that each species and civilization had their own version of the legend over the millenniums. While the tales had many different versions, they all had the core idea - that all life was brought here by the Goddess Tekali.
In this quest to validate the legend, her father, Raegel Holiadon, dedicated his life to validating the myth and the truth of their people's past. While she did not know why her father was so passionate about searching for this truth, she knew that he believed it was the most crucial mystery of Alagore.
Considered a joke from the magical and sage guilds, Fraeya's father, Raegel Holiadon, was forced to conduct his research in isolation. Dozens of sages before him have searched for the truth and failed, falling into the same ousted fake from civilization. No one believed that this time would be any different. Because of his tenacity, he was banished to the fringes of the world to prove his theories. It was not until the Unity invaded Aldrida that he brought renewed interest to his work, not because of recent discoveries or because they suddenly believed in the legend but out of desperation to survive.
"It is different this time," Fraeya said. "If we could tale the sphere and-."
Henness cut Fraeya off, saying, "I am too tired to debate this right now. All that matters is that my Palatini was ordered to escort your party through these lands. I and the rest of my people will follow those orders to the end; I guarantee that. You shall not have to worry about our duty. I just hope this fool quest does not result in the death of my men."
Fraeya felt a deep urge to defend her father's work. As she approached, a Noble Elf stopped her, her father.
"Do not let your emotions get out of control," Raegel said.
"He called me a Half-Elf," Fraeya frustratedly replied. "And he insults my Deerip and questions your life's work."
"I know, I know, now let it go," Raegel said as he calmed his daughter. "It has been a long journey for all of us. Everyone is tired and is on nerve. Do not let an off comment grow into a wild vine."
She was hearing the wisdom from her father; she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, placing her hands together to relieve stress. The journey was long after leaving the great Hispana fortress of Nervia Glevensium. Unable to take the main highway between regions, crossing the Alps was the only way. Bypassing many Unity air patrols, Cities that pledge loyalty toward Kallem, and rouge monster hordes, she realized that her father was correct. "Okay, Father."
Seeing the warm smile from Fraeya's father, she followed him to their tent. Once settled, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat by the fire.
She watched her father place one of those dark red amulets into a fire pit; that same battle mage shortly approached and activated it with the same low-level spell, igniting the amulet into Dark Fire. Unlike the natural red fire or the other magical types like green and blue, dark fire is used by soldiers and travelers to provide a heat source at night without attracting unwelcome guests. According to the sages, Dark Fire does not illuminate as brightly, so heat-seeking creatures and constructs cannot see the flames from distances. Perfect for behind-enemy-lines missions like this. However, it provided some warmth but could never match the red flame's natural heat.
Finally feeling some warmth, or at least as Fraeya's body wanted to believe, she turned to her father and asked, "Do you think this time it will work? Can we find this Bridge?"
"I know we will," Raegel replied as he checked their supplies. "I know that Lats can be a handful, trust me. I have been around them since my exile, but Henness is correct to be skeptical. You must understand normally that only a fool would undertake such a mission. A fool that I proved to be once or twice in my lifetime." He said with some laughter. Seeing a smile from his daughter, he continued, "But this time, it will be different."
Holding the blanket tight, Fraeya shook her head. "I don't understand, though. It is their people's legend, their story. Why wouldn't they be supportive of our mission? Especially if it is our last hope to stop the Unity."
"I am not a military man," Raegel said. "I never learned the art of war but put yourself in his boots. While you were at the academy and I conducted my research, these men have been fighting this war. Imagine all the battles, all the deaths of fallen brothers that they have witnessed time and time again. Last hopes are poison for soldiers, who have lost no matter what they do. It is their fault that the war has gone this badly, or at least I assume that is how they feel."
"But the legends," Fraeya stated again.
"Soldiers do not wage war based on legends," Raegel said. "While we believe in the legend, that does not mean they do. Thousands of years have passed and that is why they call them legends in the first place, my dear. Think about all our fellow elves' tales we have, and how many of our kind believe in them?"
Reflecting on what her father had said, she knew her people had many stories. Being one of the oldest civilizations on Aldrida, they have stories relating to dozens of topics, returning to orlilla. One of her favorite legends was how her kind were once flowers that sprouted legs. Some say that this was why the Noble race was so beautiful.
"You think that orb you found is the key to everything?" Fraeya said.
"I do," Raegel said. "Everything I have invested in up to this point has pointed to this moment. Whoever hid the Bridge did so to never be discovered by anyone. They hide it with magic beyond our means. That is why no one has ever found any trace of it. They were missing one piece of the puzzle, that orb."
Thrilled to see her father excited again, Fraeya cannot wait to see his dream finally coming to life. After all these decades of researching and traveling across the world to search for any clue, he eventually will be able to prove his life work was correct. He had toured Alagore for centuries, looking for clues, relics, ruins, and anything from the old era. A life work proved worthwhile.
As Fraeya stared at the Dark Fire, she asked, "What do you think this other world will be like?"
“I have no idea,” Raegel said. "I believe that this other world will be like ours. If the historical archives at Allsari and stories of old are true, then it is the world of the Lats…, Altaerrie."
submitted by PWOFalcon to HFY [link] [comments]
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https://buymeacoffee.com/pwofalcon
Also come visit my Discord for updates and conversations: https://discord.gg/sknrx7Gh
1/22/2048 (military calendar)
Campsite, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie
Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore
*****
Looking past the dark horizon of the valley below, all that was seen were the crisp peaks and ridges of the Torness mighty mountains. Above the heights was the final shine of the father of all light, the yellow sun god known as Dorash. It almost seemed like his gaze was taking one last peek at the skirt of Alagore mountain peaks before finally fading to rest.
As the sun fell below the distant mountain peaks, a robust and crisp breeze swept through the valley below, bringing a sudden chill. As expected, the darkness came and got the freezing mountain cold. Everything became pitched black as the only light source came from the starlight flickering high above the dark void. That was until a new light from the campfires illuminated the camp, only so slightly not to be discovered.
The half-elf girl Fraeya Holiadon was not used to this type of cold. Being a forest noble elf who grew up in the warmth of cities, she quickly grabbed her black-white pattern cloak and pulled tightly to remain as warm as possible.
She took a long breath from the thin, chilly air and stared into the massive valley below—forests, lakes, and, in the distance, a glimpse of lights from a nearby town. Everything looked natural and wild, where civilization had struggled to conquer. A sight she rarely saw outside the city walls. She found the scenery incredible. Worth the hellish adventurer across the Torness Mountain Range.
"Stay away from the edge," a Lat said. "We don't want to be spotted."
"Alright," Fraeya replied. She looked at the Lat, surprised at how he stood, defiant of the thin air and freezing temperature. "Are you not cold?"
"Of course, I am," the last warrior said as he returned to the camp. "Living away from civilization, you grow used to such conditions."
As the soldier left, she looked at the valley one last time before heading back toward the camp.
Fraeya saw nearly a hundred soldiers huddling their campfires for warmth, gathering supplies, or standing watch within the camp. They are known as the Palatini of Orias, one of the many Republic elite units within the legionary. They were hand-picked by the Legate for this mission.
As the young girl walked past the palatini, she could see the exhaustion from their mannerisms. Many looked hungry; others tired with dark, deep black bags under their eyes. Others shaking as their bodies adjusted to the night. To her confusion, she also could see the determination within their eyes as the environment was just an annoyance toward their objective.
She wouldn't blame them for their exhaustion as she could feel most of her body sore from the non-stop marching and climbing, she had to endure to get to this point. Something that her professors left out of their classes. A part of her couldn't help but chuckle from how she once thought after graduation from the academy that she was ready to face the challenges of their world. Only now did she understand how little schooling prepared her for the real world.
"What is so funny?" Another Lat said as she passed.
When she turned to the man, she felt a slim nerve of fear that ran through her body, believing that she might have insulted them. While most of them accepted her within the platini, she could tell they saw her as a weakling over a comrade. "I am sorry. I meant no insult. I was remembering my time at the academy."
The man turned back to his friend, commenting on her inexperience.
Fraeya felt sad as this was not her first failed interaction. For the better part of a week, Orias had escorted her and her father across some of the roughest terrains on Aldrida, taking great lengths to avoid enemy forces as their orders were to keep the two elves protected at all cost. As many men had stated, it was a near miracle that they made it this far without being noticed.
From what she understood, the commanding centurion hoped to reach the base of the mountain they were on by tonight. Such delays had become the norm; they had to delay their travels because of enemy patrols. They were hiding for hours because of J'avias' patrols from one of the nearby City-States. As they adventured deeper behind enemy-occupied territory, she expected this problem to worsen.
While the Hispana Republic's detachment for the expedition could have defeated them, the legionnaire leader, Centurion Fionntan Henness, did not want to risk exposing their unit to the enemy. He feared that if the J'avias or one of their puppet races could pass a message to the Unity's regional vassal, the Verliance Aristocracy, their mission would fail, and their last hope for victory would vanish. His superiors had invested in this last-ditch effort to turn the tide of the war to risk it on a small skirmisher with fewer soldiers.
Between the dozen campfires and the dark but illuminated sky lit by their mother Tekali, this side of the mountain range had perfectly trapped the cold air, something that Fraeya Holiadon was struggling to adapt to. As a Noble Elf, she was used to the warmth of the forest and the benefits of civilization from the continent's western side. Not the chill of the alpine.
Hearing a loud howl that echoed through the mountains, clearing coming from another party elsewhere within the area, Fraeya noticed her ride panicking. She quickly rushed over and slowly approached the beast once she got close.
"There, there," Fraeya whispered to her Deerip, a four-legged beast with three horns, light brown long hair fur, and red hoofs.
Noticing that these lands unsettled the beast, a feeling she could relate to, she rubbed the side of the Derrip's neck. Slowly and calmly whispering a song to it as the beast to calm down.
Once the beast was calm, Fraeya reached into her backpack and pulled out a bundle of grass to feed it. "I understand how you feel. This place leaves an unsettling chill down my spine, too. But you need to stay calm."
"If your beast is going to cause trouble, it will be wise to let it free," Henness said as he approached.
Looking at the centurion, Fraeya replied, "he is just startled. Deerips do not usually travel these lands. He needs to get used to being here."
Henness reached into his bag, pulling out a dark red amulet. He then tossed it into a fire pit. One of the other soldiers, a pyromancy battle mage, approached the hole and ignited it with a low-level fire spell. Unlike most red and orange flames, this fire was blackish purple, a type of flame known as dark fire by the commoners.
"Half-Elf, it took us over a week to get here through this dangerous path. These mountains are very unforgiving to wandering passengers, even to the Legion. We are deep behind enemy lines with no support. If Kallam vassals discover us, we will be slaughtered without mercy."
"That is if we are lucky," a Lat said as he sat beside the Dark Fire. "I heard stories of what happens to the prisoners that are handed over to them. I wouldn't subject my worst enemy to such a fate. Especially if a little girl got us caught."
Feeling frustrated and hearing the disrespect from the man's tone, she wanted to march over and warn Henness. While Lats could be civil and possess a strong warrior spirit, she is always surprised by how stubborn they could be.
"What is your issue, Lat? Fraeya asked. "I understand the risks. My father has been studying for this mission longer than you have been alive. I know what is at stake. This legend is our only hope in stopping them."
"Hope?" Henness asked while being unfazed by the young elf's aggressiveness. "The only reason the Legate sponsored this insane mission was that your father already got funds from a Kitsune archivist guild with a questionable reputation. They wanted to eliminate your father to focus on winning the war. They cannot afford to chase fairytales from time immemorial."
"Insane mission?" Fraeya boldly stated. "This quest is not insane, you…, damn Lat! It is the answer! We all know we cannot win the war. They are just too strong. I cannot believe how you, of all people, your kind, should believe in this."
"It is a fool's quest, Fraeya," Henness replied calmly, showing his military discipline. "Look at what we are doing." Allowing himself to collect his thoughts, he sat by the Dark Fire. "We are looking for an ancient relic, a Lat-Orc folktale that allows you to travel to another world. Hundreds of sages like your father have looked for this and other relics over the centuries. Even your father was proven wrong on this subject. There is a reason why the Guilds and his own people disowned his research."
The legend of an ancient relic from a lost age was an everyday fairytale throughout the continent of Aldrida. A Bridge that connected Alagore to the world known as Altaerrie. Her father discovered that each species and civilization had their own version of the legend over the millenniums. While the tales had many different versions, they all had the core idea - that all life was brought here by the Goddess Tekali.
In this quest to validate the legend, her father, Raegel Holiadon, dedicated his life to validating the myth and the truth of their people's past. While she did not know why her father was so passionate about searching for this truth, she knew that he believed it was the most crucial mystery of Alagore.
Considered a joke from the magical and sage guilds, Fraeya's father, Raegel Holiadon, was forced to conduct his research in isolation. Dozens of sages before him have searched for the truth and failed, falling into the same ousted fake from civilization. No one believed that this time would be any different. Because of his tenacity, he was banished to the fringes of the world to prove his theories. It was not until the Unity invaded Aldrida that he brought renewed interest to his work, not because of recent discoveries or because they suddenly believed in the legend but out of desperation to survive.
"It is different this time," Fraeya said. "If we could tale the sphere and-."
Henness cut Fraeya off, saying, "I am too tired to debate this right now. All that matters is that my Palatini was ordered to escort your party through these lands. I and the rest of my people will follow those orders to the end; I guarantee that. You shall not have to worry about our duty. I just hope this fool quest does not result in the death of my men."
Fraeya felt a deep urge to defend her father's work. As she approached, a Noble Elf stopped her, her father.
"Do not let your emotions get out of control," Raegel said.
"He called me a Half-Elf," Fraeya frustratedly replied. "And he insults my Deerip and questions your life's work."
"I know, I know, now let it go," Raegel said as he calmed his daughter. "It has been a long journey for all of us. Everyone is tired and is on nerve. Do not let an off comment grow into a wild vine."
She was hearing the wisdom from her father; she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, placing her hands together to relieve stress. The journey was long after leaving the great Hispana fortress of Nervia Glevensium. Unable to take the main highway between regions, crossing the Alps was the only way. Bypassing many Unity air patrols, Cities that pledge loyalty toward Kallem, and rouge monster hordes, she realized that her father was correct. "Okay, Father."
Seeing the warm smile from Fraeya's father, she followed him to their tent. Once settled, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat by the fire.
She watched her father place one of those dark red amulets into a fire pit; that same battle mage shortly approached and activated it with the same low-level spell, igniting the amulet into Dark Fire. Unlike the natural red fire or the other magical types like green and blue, dark fire is used by soldiers and travelers to provide a heat source at night without attracting unwelcome guests. According to the sages, Dark Fire does not illuminate as brightly, so heat-seeking creatures and constructs cannot see the flames from distances. Perfect for behind-enemy-lines missions like this. However, it provided some warmth but could never match the red flame's natural heat.
Finally feeling some warmth, or at least as Fraeya's body wanted to believe, she turned to her father and asked, "Do you think this time it will work? Can we find this Bridge?"
"I know we will," Raegel replied as he checked their supplies. "I know that Lats can be a handful, trust me. I have been around them since my exile, but Henness is correct to be skeptical. You must understand normally that only a fool would undertake such a mission. A fool that I proved to be once or twice in my lifetime." He said with some laughter. Seeing a smile from his daughter, he continued, "But this time, it will be different."
Holding the blanket tight, Fraeya shook her head. "I don't understand, though. It is their people's legend, their story. Why wouldn't they be supportive of our mission? Especially if it is our last hope to stop the Unity."
"I am not a military man," Raegel said. "I never learned the art of war but put yourself in his boots. While you were at the academy and I conducted my research, these men have been fighting this war. Imagine all the battles, all the deaths of fallen brothers that they have witnessed time and time again. Last hopes are poison for soldiers, who have lost no matter what they do. It is their fault that the war has gone this badly, or at least I assume that is how they feel."
"But the legends," Fraeya stated again.
"Soldiers do not wage war based on legends," Raegel said. "While we believe in the legend, that does not mean they do. Thousands of years have passed and that is why they call them legends in the first place, my dear. Think about all our fellow elves' tales we have, and how many of our kind believe in them?"
Reflecting on what her father had said, she knew her people had many stories. Being one of the oldest civilizations on Aldrida, they have stories relating to dozens of topics, returning to orlilla. One of her favorite legends was how her kind were once flowers that sprouted legs. Some say that this was why the Noble race was so beautiful.
"You think that orb you found is the key to everything?" Fraeya said.
"I do," Raegel said. "Everything I have invested in up to this point has pointed to this moment. Whoever hid the Bridge did so to never be discovered by anyone. They hide it with magic beyond our means. That is why no one has ever found any trace of it. They were missing one piece of the puzzle, that orb."
Thrilled to see her father excited again, Fraeya cannot wait to see his dream finally coming to life. After all these decades of researching and traveling across the world to search for any clue, he eventually will be able to prove his life work was correct. He had toured Alagore for centuries, looking for clues, relics, ruins, and anything from the old era. A life work proved worthwhile.
As Fraeya stared at the Dark Fire, she asked, "What do you think this other world will be like?"
“I have no idea,” Raegel said. "I believe that this other world will be like ours. If the historical archives at Allsari and stories of old are true, then it is the world of the Lats…, Altaerrie."
2024.05.21 23:16 zombie_Leghumpr Help with Womens Shelter Donations!
Hi! I'm helping with a bingo to raise funds for donations to a women's shelter. We want to put together care packages for child free women, moms, and babies. Here are some ideas that we have:
•small makeup care packages Think, small neutral pallettes, brushes, lip balms, facial creams, spf, face wash, maybe a nail polish, hair care products, nail clippers, tweezers, etc.
•crochet baby blankets, Diaper cream, baby lotion/wash
•Womens Clothes (underwear, socks, bras, t shirts, sweat pants), menstrual products, lactation products (we were thinking some of those gel nipple covers that you can freeze? My sister swears by those)
•Healthcare products: Bandaids (not name brand because of carcinogens), peroxide, rubbing alcohol, triple antibiotic ointments,
•Baby clothes, burpees, stuffed animals, blankets, diapers, onesies!
We're looking for input from ALL women! What are other things that we are missing that these shelters need? I KNOW we're forgetting something! Any help is appreciated and we all appreciate your help!
submitted by zombie_Leghumpr to women [link] [comments]
•small makeup care packages Think, small neutral pallettes, brushes, lip balms, facial creams, spf, face wash, maybe a nail polish, hair care products, nail clippers, tweezers, etc.
•crochet baby blankets, Diaper cream, baby lotion/wash
•Womens Clothes (underwear, socks, bras, t shirts, sweat pants), menstrual products, lactation products (we were thinking some of those gel nipple covers that you can freeze? My sister swears by those)
•Healthcare products: Bandaids (not name brand because of carcinogens), peroxide, rubbing alcohol, triple antibiotic ointments,
•Baby clothes, burpees, stuffed animals, blankets, diapers, onesies!
We're looking for input from ALL women! What are other things that we are missing that these shelters need? I KNOW we're forgetting something! Any help is appreciated and we all appreciate your help!
2024.05.21 23:14 zombie_Leghumpr Womens Shelter Donations
Hi! I'm helping with a bingo to raise funds for donations to a women's shelter. We want to put together care packages for child free women, moms, and babies. Here are some ideas that we have:
•small makeup care packages Think, small neutral pallettes, brushes, lip balms, facial creams, spf, face wash, maybe a nail polish, hair care products, nail clippers, tweezers, etc.
•crochet baby blankets, Diaper cream, baby lotion/wash
•Womens Clothes (underwear, socks, bras, t shirts, sweat pants), menstrual products, lactation products (we were thinking some of those gel nipple covers that you can freeze? My sister swears by those)
•Healthcare products: Bandaids (not name brand because of carcinogens), peroxide, rubbing alcohol, triple antibiotic ointments,
•Baby clothes, burpees, stuffed animals, blankets, diapers, onesies!
We're looking for input from ALL women! What are other things that we are missing that these shelters need? I KNOW we're forgetting something! Any help is appreciated and we all appreciate your help!
submitted by zombie_Leghumpr to TwoXChromosomes [link] [comments]
•small makeup care packages Think, small neutral pallettes, brushes, lip balms, facial creams, spf, face wash, maybe a nail polish, hair care products, nail clippers, tweezers, etc.
•crochet baby blankets, Diaper cream, baby lotion/wash
•Womens Clothes (underwear, socks, bras, t shirts, sweat pants), menstrual products, lactation products (we were thinking some of those gel nipple covers that you can freeze? My sister swears by those)
•Healthcare products: Bandaids (not name brand because of carcinogens), peroxide, rubbing alcohol, triple antibiotic ointments,
•Baby clothes, burpees, stuffed animals, blankets, diapers, onesies!
We're looking for input from ALL women! What are other things that we are missing that these shelters need? I KNOW we're forgetting something! Any help is appreciated and we all appreciate your help!
2024.05.21 22:51 Koala_Guru Why Hank's villain era didn't work, and how it easily could've (Long Essay)
Hopefully this isn’t downvoted instantly, because I know people seem to get strangely very defensive about Beast’s characterization in this run. I think there is a lot of miscommunication whenever a Beast fan complains about how he was depicted here. Often times people will discount those complaints because they think Beast fans just don’t want him to go bad, when that doesn’t really seem to be the whole truth from what I’ve seen. Ultimately, the complaints I raise and I have seen others raise are more about thinking the writing of his spiral in X-Force 2019 was not done well rather than that said spiral shouldn’t have happened at all. With the Krakoa era coming to an end, and “From the Ashes” having the now-rebooted Beast who is pulled all the way from his time on The Defenders, I don’t see any of the flaws here being addressed beyond characters casually referring to how bad he became. So I wanted to take this time in the in-between, where our new Beast is apparently just chilling on Wonder Man’s couch while the rest of the X-Men fight against Orchis and Nimrod, to once and for all lay out the flaws of Beast’s villainous era, and establish not that it shouldn’t have happened, but that it could have been way better.
Problem 1: A Lack of Pathos:
Most X-Men fans who have been reading for awhile will agree that it’s honestly surprising more mutants haven’t gone down a dark path. Their history is one of striving for acceptance, putting their lives on the line for people who would rather see them dead, and being rewarded with not one but multiple genocides on their population. Some of the most interesting stories can actually come from a formally “upstanding” mutant finally deciding enough is enough. When Cyclops went down his “villainous” path, it made a lot of sense. We’d seen him becoming more disenfranchised with the dream for years. We’d seen his trust in Xavier erode time and time again, and so when he decided to stop asking for acceptance and start demanding it, it was hard to blame him. Even as we saw most of his friends turn against him, that didn’t stop people from declaring “Cyclops Was Right,” because his perspective could easily be understood, and he did achieve results. More recently in X-Men ‘97, we saw Rogue go down a dark path in the wake of Genosha being wiped out, including Magneto and Gambit. Again, this was understood, and it was an interesting direction for her character.
This sort of turn would also make a ton of sense for Hank McCoy. Did you know that back towards the start of the original Uncanny X-Men run, Hank was actually the first X-Men we ever saw to leave the team and say that Magneto was right, after he and Bobby were attacked by an angry mob because Hank used his powers to save a young child? Over the years, one of Hank’s most recurring struggles and arcs is self-loathing and eventual acceptance of his condition. Hank has always been at his darkest when he’s trapped in his spiral of self-loathing, but when he comes out the other side, he tends to be one of the most optimistic mutants when it comes to coexistence with humans. He was out making connections and fighting alongside non-mutants before anyone else. Joining the Avengers and Defenders, speaking on behalf of mutant rights before congress, dating human women who were able to accept his appearance, blue fur and all. Until they weren’t… looking at you, Trish Tilby.
So with all of this in mind, it would honestly be an extremely interesting arc to see Hank, this optimistic mutant who has spent his life building bridges and making connections with humanity, to be slowly beaten down and start to believe peace is not an option. As one of the original X-Men, he has been there through every tragedy that struck the mutant population. And as one of the smartest X-Men, he has usually been at the center of these crises. He has seen advancements in science meant to eradicate the mutants. He has fought against viruses that threaten to drive them extinct. He was there in the wreckage of Genosha. He has seen countless friends killed again and again. He has suffered his own mutation evolving and making him less and less human-looking. He saw the development of a mutant “cure” and was tempted to take it. He has seen it all.
And so that brings us to Krakoa. This is the moment where the mutants as a whole decided enough was enough. If they could not be accepted by humanity, they would pack up and form their own nation, and they would force humanity to accept that they exist by developing life-saving drugs that other nations would have to rely on. And what is one of the first things that happens after the establishment of Krakoa? Hank witnesses assassins infiltrate the island and assassinate Charles Xavier. This right here is honestly the perfect setup for Hank to go darker than he has before. Even after literally segregating the mutant population from humanity, like humanity seemed to want, they still decided to come and kill the man at the forefront of the movement. And Hank, recently placed in charge of mutant black-ops, would likely see that all options are on the table.
Unfortunately, Hank’s actual pathos surrounding the decisions he would go on to make is not explored by the book itself. The book has no interest in detailing Hank’s fall from grace as we saw with Cyclops before him. The book just wants us to accept that Hank has already fallen. And in fact, according to the writing, maybe he never had anywhere to fall from. Any time a character in X-Force tries to ask important questions to understand Hank’s thought process, they are cut off. Usually by Wolverine saying “He’s always been like this.” And then on one occasion, when Wolverine asked Hank why he was doing all this dark shit, Hank said, “Didn’t you read the script? I’ve always been like this.” There is no attempt to examine Hank as a character. We don’t need to know why Hank makes the decisions he does, because this book wants Hank to be a black and white villain and so that’s what he will be. Why? Because he’s always been like this.
Problem 2: Rapid Escalation:
One of the major defenses people have when it comes to Krakoan Hank is that he has apparently been on the road to his villainous self for over a decade. The X-Force run itself loved to have characters spout a list of Hank’s previous “crimes” without any context involved, as justification for why he was acting the way he did in the current run. The problem is, that context is very important. Because it shows the disparity in the Hank of previous stories who made mistakes with good intentions vs the Hank of X-Force who did heinous shit because he wanted to. This was less a plane making a slow descent and more a plane that was slowly descending, but then its engines shut off and it plummeted into a fiery explosion.
To make this case, we need to briefly analyze the previous perceived transgressions of Hank McCoy to show what they actually meant for his character and how they differ from the Bond villain X-Force would present us with. Let’s start with Threnody. Somehow, Threnody became a bit of a buzzword for the beginning of the end for Hank. When people talk about the history of Hank and Threnody, they will usually present it as one of Hank’s worst sins, saying something like “Hank callously handed Threnody over to Mr. Sinister so he could experiment on and abuse her!!!” It kind of makes for some whiplash when you actually read the Threnody story people are talking about. Here is a brief rundown of what actually happens:
Threnody is a young woman who cannot control her powers. It causes her no end of grief, and when we are introduced to her, she is homeless and constantly in danger of hurting herself or others. Beast, Rogue, and Iceman come across Threnody who has been found first by Mr. Sinister. Sinister actually has a vested interest in curing the Legacy Virus, and believes he can help Threnody master her powers, at which point she will prove vital in his efforts to study said Virus. Notably, Threnody wants to go with Sinister here. While Rogue disapproves, Hank does believe that Sinister is actually Threnody’s best option, openly stating Sinister can actually help her gain control and the X-Men cannot, because, as Hank directly says, Sinister is willing to damn parts of his soul in pursuit of scientific enlightenment, and the X-Men are not. A few issues later, when breaking into Sinister’s base, Hank encounters Threnody again. She’s happy. Sinister did indeed help her control her powers, and she has been able to use her abilities to help mutants the world over, while also undermining Sinister’s more evil operations from the inside. Hank expresses relief, saying he was kept up at night by his decision to let her go with Sinister, but Threnody actually thanks him for letting her. And that’s it. That’s Hank’s big “crime” here.
Hank’s other “sins” are also of varying levels of severity. There’s the time “Hank worked with his evil self to cure the Legacy Virus!” when the actual story in question is Hank asserting that he won’t stoop to the levels of Dark Beast and compromise his values in the name of science. There’s the time “Hank sided with the Inhumans against the X-Men!” when the actual story is Storm sending Hank to Attilan to find a way to end the conflict between mutants and inhumans before war broke out. Hank runs out of time to find a cure for the terrigen mist cloud, suggests mutants get off-world in the meantime rather than go to war with the inhumans, is thrown into a cell by the other X-Men for his “betrayal”, and then freed at the conclusion of the war by a repentant Storm when it comes to light that the whole conflict was manipulated by Emma Frost. There’s the time “Hank risked the timestream by bringing the original X-Men to the present day!” A decision that was made on his perceived deathbed with the hopes of bringing his old friend Cyclops back to his side. Hank wants to take the young mutants back right away, but they refuse. And instead of others enforcing that they need to return, we actually see Kitty Pride decide to lead them in the present in memory of Charles Xavier. Notably, Kitty would be one of the many mutants in future issues who would yell at Hank about this.
The point of this post isn’t to absolve Hank of all fault. He has made countless mistakes and bad decisions. Regardless of the culpability of others, the pulling of the O5 to the present was his decision. During Secret Empire, Hank would turn a blind eye to Hydra’s activity simply to keep the mutants under his care safe. During all of this, however, Hank’s character was not compromised. He expressed despair and regret over his worse choices, and struggled with thinking he was a good person any longer. Again, going back to his recurring struggle with self-loathing. He had pathos behind his decisions and how they affected him, and would often reunite with Wonder Man as an opportunity to recenter and declare he would “be better tomorrow than he was yesterday.”
You would think, if the aim of X-Force was to turn Hank into a full-on villain, it would take advantage of the long-form storytelling of comics to chronicle that escalation. Like I said, the assassination of Charles Xavier is a great starting point for Hank to start going darker than he ever has before. The problem is, we don’t get an escalation. Hank starts the run by doing some of the most heinous shit imaginable. Regardless of your thoughts on the severity of Hank’s previous mistakes, none of them compare to his opening volley in this run. Hank uses telefloronics to override and genocide an entire country, leaving various people either completely dead or braindead. We later find out that during this time he also established a space station where he ran unethical experiments on prisoners like Krakoa’s very own Dr. Mengele. He then accuses his old ally Colossus of conspiring with Russia against Krakoa, and calls forth the mutant population to witness as he parades a shamed Colossus through its streets. Then he kills Wolverine and resurrects him as a mindless animal who he uses as an attack dog against his perceived enemies. This isn’t an escalation, this is a different character. And the aforementioned lack of pathos means that we don’t get to see him struggle with these choices. We don’t see his thought process as he becomes darker and darker. Why would we? “He’s always been like this.”
Problem 3: No Personality:
One of the most fun aspects of turning a protagonist into an antagonist is seeing how their personality works with a more villainous mindset. When Cyclops became an “antagonist” to the X-Men, he was still Cyclops. He stuck to his convictions, he was a great leader and tactician, and he was able to turn many mutants to his side because of this. We’ve seen an evil Beast before. The creatively-named Dark Beast is from an alternate future where Beast went down a dark path lacking ethics. The fun of this character, besides comparing his ideologies with our Hank McCoy, is seeing how Hank’s penchant for jokes or quotes now become far more sinister and cutting.
There’s a strange narrative that the jokey Hank is reserved for the Avengers while the Hank with the X-Men is all business and science. This isn’t entirely true. Early on when he was a member of the Defenders, Hank talks about this sort of thing. He essentially says that he wears different hats. While working with the X-Men, he used big words essentially to gain respect from both his teammates and humanity. But with other teams, and in his then-new furry form, he dropped all of that. His speech became more naturalistic and he was much more of a goofball. The thing is, it’s the speech patterns that truly change depending on who Hank is hanging with, not his personality. Hank with the X-Men and Hank with the Avengers are both jovial characters who like to tell jokes and quote philosophy. You can see Hank being a bit of a clown among the X-Men in various runs. So it’s not like it’s a given that Hank is some entirely different dry doctor devoid of any sense of humor when among the X-Men.
But this is how Hank is portrayed in X-Force. Part of why this version of Hank is so hard to reconcile with the rest of his history for fans of the character is that he just doesn’t act like himself, even when he isn’t actively committing war crimes. In one early issue of the run, we get a glimpse at Beast’s journal where he accounts a meeting he had with Forge. Now, Beast has been known to be a very physical character. He is often known to sweep others into a hug, or even plant a big kiss on their face in the case of characters like Wonder Man or Iceman. Meanwhile this one page where we read his thoughts on Forge is clearly pretending this is not the case:
Problem 4: No One Cares:
Another important angle to consider when writing a story of a good person breaking bad is how it affects those around them. Those who are close friends to the person and find themselves disturbed by their current actions. Again, I return to Cyclops. Regardless of where you stand on if he was right or not, he was very much positioned as an antagonist to the mutants at the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning. Yet we see various friends of Cyclops still caring for him and wanting to pull him back from what they perceive as the dark side. Like I previously said, Beast’s whole reason for messing with the timeline was because he felt he was going to die and wanted to try to appeal to his old friend and bring him back around before he passed on. When someone good goes bad, part of the emotional core is seeing former friends try to appeal to their better nature, and even eventually deciding they’ve gone too far to turn back.
Not so with Hank in X-Force. Like I said, this run posits that this is not any kind of heel turn for Hank. This is how he’s always been. “Hank this isn’t you!” “No, he’s always been like this.” “Hank, turn back before it’s too late!” “Turn back where? He’s always been like this.” None of Hank’s friends give a shit. Hank’s best friend amongst the X-Men is Bobby Drake, Iceman, and we never once see any kind of confrontation there. Cyclops and Angel similarly doesn’t care. Now you could argue this is because X-Force is a secretive organization. Bobby and Scott don’t even know what Hank is doing. There are two issues with this. First, things reach a point where they would know. Hank’s actions become public knowledge, and Wolverine goes off to hunt him down while the rest of the X-Men just kinda look the other way. And second, there is someone with a lot of history with Hank that was a part of X-Force and did see everything that was going on. Jean Grey.
But we never get to see Jean wonder what’s happened to her close friend. Jean who was always incredibly close to Hank. Jean who, it was confirmed during the All-New X-Men era, had mutual feelings for Hank and might have started dating him had things been different. But no, Jean, like every character in this run, accepts that Hank has always been like this. That’s the answer to everything. So instead of some kind of emotional confrontation where she tries to appeal to his better nature, we instead have Jean yell at Hank, use her powers to throw him against a wall, and quit X-Force. And then most recently, we see her tell Firestar without hesitation to throw Hank under the bus for any heat that comes her way from her undercover mission. Because everyone will believe Hank is responsible for all the bad shit. Who the hell cares about Hank? According to this run, no one.
Conclusion:
I hope you can see the larger issue here. When Beast fans complain about his Krakoan era, people assume they just don’t want to see their favorite do bad things. But it’s practically accepted at this point in comics that most heroes will have a villain arc. Hell, Iceman is the only one of the original five X-Men who hasn’t gone down a dark path at this point. The problem is that everything about the writing of Hank during this time was just not done well. There is no exploration of Hank’s descent into villainy, and any questioning down that line is immediately shut down by the assertion that this is just who he’s always been. There isn’t any slow escalation because his first move is genocide. Hank is not even written as himself during this era, but rather as a generic bond villain. And none of Hank’s former close friends even show any emotion about his turn to villainy. An evil Hank story could easily work. We saw it with Dark Beast. A story where the former optimistic member of the X-Men has been beaten down so many times that he takes on a “whatever it takes” mentality could be interesting and emotionally resonant as we both understand what drove him here yet hate the man he’s become. But that isn’t what we got. We got a run that wrote him as a complete stranger and then had all the characters tell the reader that they were wrong for ever thinking he was anyone else.
submitted by Koala_Guru to xmen [link] [comments]
Problem 1: A Lack of Pathos:
Most X-Men fans who have been reading for awhile will agree that it’s honestly surprising more mutants haven’t gone down a dark path. Their history is one of striving for acceptance, putting their lives on the line for people who would rather see them dead, and being rewarded with not one but multiple genocides on their population. Some of the most interesting stories can actually come from a formally “upstanding” mutant finally deciding enough is enough. When Cyclops went down his “villainous” path, it made a lot of sense. We’d seen him becoming more disenfranchised with the dream for years. We’d seen his trust in Xavier erode time and time again, and so when he decided to stop asking for acceptance and start demanding it, it was hard to blame him. Even as we saw most of his friends turn against him, that didn’t stop people from declaring “Cyclops Was Right,” because his perspective could easily be understood, and he did achieve results. More recently in X-Men ‘97, we saw Rogue go down a dark path in the wake of Genosha being wiped out, including Magneto and Gambit. Again, this was understood, and it was an interesting direction for her character.
This sort of turn would also make a ton of sense for Hank McCoy. Did you know that back towards the start of the original Uncanny X-Men run, Hank was actually the first X-Men we ever saw to leave the team and say that Magneto was right, after he and Bobby were attacked by an angry mob because Hank used his powers to save a young child? Over the years, one of Hank’s most recurring struggles and arcs is self-loathing and eventual acceptance of his condition. Hank has always been at his darkest when he’s trapped in his spiral of self-loathing, but when he comes out the other side, he tends to be one of the most optimistic mutants when it comes to coexistence with humans. He was out making connections and fighting alongside non-mutants before anyone else. Joining the Avengers and Defenders, speaking on behalf of mutant rights before congress, dating human women who were able to accept his appearance, blue fur and all. Until they weren’t… looking at you, Trish Tilby.
So with all of this in mind, it would honestly be an extremely interesting arc to see Hank, this optimistic mutant who has spent his life building bridges and making connections with humanity, to be slowly beaten down and start to believe peace is not an option. As one of the original X-Men, he has been there through every tragedy that struck the mutant population. And as one of the smartest X-Men, he has usually been at the center of these crises. He has seen advancements in science meant to eradicate the mutants. He has fought against viruses that threaten to drive them extinct. He was there in the wreckage of Genosha. He has seen countless friends killed again and again. He has suffered his own mutation evolving and making him less and less human-looking. He saw the development of a mutant “cure” and was tempted to take it. He has seen it all.
And so that brings us to Krakoa. This is the moment where the mutants as a whole decided enough was enough. If they could not be accepted by humanity, they would pack up and form their own nation, and they would force humanity to accept that they exist by developing life-saving drugs that other nations would have to rely on. And what is one of the first things that happens after the establishment of Krakoa? Hank witnesses assassins infiltrate the island and assassinate Charles Xavier. This right here is honestly the perfect setup for Hank to go darker than he has before. Even after literally segregating the mutant population from humanity, like humanity seemed to want, they still decided to come and kill the man at the forefront of the movement. And Hank, recently placed in charge of mutant black-ops, would likely see that all options are on the table.
Unfortunately, Hank’s actual pathos surrounding the decisions he would go on to make is not explored by the book itself. The book has no interest in detailing Hank’s fall from grace as we saw with Cyclops before him. The book just wants us to accept that Hank has already fallen. And in fact, according to the writing, maybe he never had anywhere to fall from. Any time a character in X-Force tries to ask important questions to understand Hank’s thought process, they are cut off. Usually by Wolverine saying “He’s always been like this.” And then on one occasion, when Wolverine asked Hank why he was doing all this dark shit, Hank said, “Didn’t you read the script? I’ve always been like this.” There is no attempt to examine Hank as a character. We don’t need to know why Hank makes the decisions he does, because this book wants Hank to be a black and white villain and so that’s what he will be. Why? Because he’s always been like this.
Problem 2: Rapid Escalation:
One of the major defenses people have when it comes to Krakoan Hank is that he has apparently been on the road to his villainous self for over a decade. The X-Force run itself loved to have characters spout a list of Hank’s previous “crimes” without any context involved, as justification for why he was acting the way he did in the current run. The problem is, that context is very important. Because it shows the disparity in the Hank of previous stories who made mistakes with good intentions vs the Hank of X-Force who did heinous shit because he wanted to. This was less a plane making a slow descent and more a plane that was slowly descending, but then its engines shut off and it plummeted into a fiery explosion.
To make this case, we need to briefly analyze the previous perceived transgressions of Hank McCoy to show what they actually meant for his character and how they differ from the Bond villain X-Force would present us with. Let’s start with Threnody. Somehow, Threnody became a bit of a buzzword for the beginning of the end for Hank. When people talk about the history of Hank and Threnody, they will usually present it as one of Hank’s worst sins, saying something like “Hank callously handed Threnody over to Mr. Sinister so he could experiment on and abuse her!!!” It kind of makes for some whiplash when you actually read the Threnody story people are talking about. Here is a brief rundown of what actually happens:
Threnody is a young woman who cannot control her powers. It causes her no end of grief, and when we are introduced to her, she is homeless and constantly in danger of hurting herself or others. Beast, Rogue, and Iceman come across Threnody who has been found first by Mr. Sinister. Sinister actually has a vested interest in curing the Legacy Virus, and believes he can help Threnody master her powers, at which point she will prove vital in his efforts to study said Virus. Notably, Threnody wants to go with Sinister here. While Rogue disapproves, Hank does believe that Sinister is actually Threnody’s best option, openly stating Sinister can actually help her gain control and the X-Men cannot, because, as Hank directly says, Sinister is willing to damn parts of his soul in pursuit of scientific enlightenment, and the X-Men are not. A few issues later, when breaking into Sinister’s base, Hank encounters Threnody again. She’s happy. Sinister did indeed help her control her powers, and she has been able to use her abilities to help mutants the world over, while also undermining Sinister’s more evil operations from the inside. Hank expresses relief, saying he was kept up at night by his decision to let her go with Sinister, but Threnody actually thanks him for letting her. And that’s it. That’s Hank’s big “crime” here.
Hank’s other “sins” are also of varying levels of severity. There’s the time “Hank worked with his evil self to cure the Legacy Virus!” when the actual story in question is Hank asserting that he won’t stoop to the levels of Dark Beast and compromise his values in the name of science. There’s the time “Hank sided with the Inhumans against the X-Men!” when the actual story is Storm sending Hank to Attilan to find a way to end the conflict between mutants and inhumans before war broke out. Hank runs out of time to find a cure for the terrigen mist cloud, suggests mutants get off-world in the meantime rather than go to war with the inhumans, is thrown into a cell by the other X-Men for his “betrayal”, and then freed at the conclusion of the war by a repentant Storm when it comes to light that the whole conflict was manipulated by Emma Frost. There’s the time “Hank risked the timestream by bringing the original X-Men to the present day!” A decision that was made on his perceived deathbed with the hopes of bringing his old friend Cyclops back to his side. Hank wants to take the young mutants back right away, but they refuse. And instead of others enforcing that they need to return, we actually see Kitty Pride decide to lead them in the present in memory of Charles Xavier. Notably, Kitty would be one of the many mutants in future issues who would yell at Hank about this.
The point of this post isn’t to absolve Hank of all fault. He has made countless mistakes and bad decisions. Regardless of the culpability of others, the pulling of the O5 to the present was his decision. During Secret Empire, Hank would turn a blind eye to Hydra’s activity simply to keep the mutants under his care safe. During all of this, however, Hank’s character was not compromised. He expressed despair and regret over his worse choices, and struggled with thinking he was a good person any longer. Again, going back to his recurring struggle with self-loathing. He had pathos behind his decisions and how they affected him, and would often reunite with Wonder Man as an opportunity to recenter and declare he would “be better tomorrow than he was yesterday.”
You would think, if the aim of X-Force was to turn Hank into a full-on villain, it would take advantage of the long-form storytelling of comics to chronicle that escalation. Like I said, the assassination of Charles Xavier is a great starting point for Hank to start going darker than he ever has before. The problem is, we don’t get an escalation. Hank starts the run by doing some of the most heinous shit imaginable. Regardless of your thoughts on the severity of Hank’s previous mistakes, none of them compare to his opening volley in this run. Hank uses telefloronics to override and genocide an entire country, leaving various people either completely dead or braindead. We later find out that during this time he also established a space station where he ran unethical experiments on prisoners like Krakoa’s very own Dr. Mengele. He then accuses his old ally Colossus of conspiring with Russia against Krakoa, and calls forth the mutant population to witness as he parades a shamed Colossus through its streets. Then he kills Wolverine and resurrects him as a mindless animal who he uses as an attack dog against his perceived enemies. This isn’t an escalation, this is a different character. And the aforementioned lack of pathos means that we don’t get to see him struggle with these choices. We don’t see his thought process as he becomes darker and darker. Why would we? “He’s always been like this.”
Problem 3: No Personality:
One of the most fun aspects of turning a protagonist into an antagonist is seeing how their personality works with a more villainous mindset. When Cyclops became an “antagonist” to the X-Men, he was still Cyclops. He stuck to his convictions, he was a great leader and tactician, and he was able to turn many mutants to his side because of this. We’ve seen an evil Beast before. The creatively-named Dark Beast is from an alternate future where Beast went down a dark path lacking ethics. The fun of this character, besides comparing his ideologies with our Hank McCoy, is seeing how Hank’s penchant for jokes or quotes now become far more sinister and cutting.
There’s a strange narrative that the jokey Hank is reserved for the Avengers while the Hank with the X-Men is all business and science. This isn’t entirely true. Early on when he was a member of the Defenders, Hank talks about this sort of thing. He essentially says that he wears different hats. While working with the X-Men, he used big words essentially to gain respect from both his teammates and humanity. But with other teams, and in his then-new furry form, he dropped all of that. His speech became more naturalistic and he was much more of a goofball. The thing is, it’s the speech patterns that truly change depending on who Hank is hanging with, not his personality. Hank with the X-Men and Hank with the Avengers are both jovial characters who like to tell jokes and quote philosophy. You can see Hank being a bit of a clown among the X-Men in various runs. So it’s not like it’s a given that Hank is some entirely different dry doctor devoid of any sense of humor when among the X-Men.
But this is how Hank is portrayed in X-Force. Part of why this version of Hank is so hard to reconcile with the rest of his history for fans of the character is that he just doesn’t act like himself, even when he isn’t actively committing war crimes. In one early issue of the run, we get a glimpse at Beast’s journal where he accounts a meeting he had with Forge. Now, Beast has been known to be a very physical character. He is often known to sweep others into a hug, or even plant a big kiss on their face in the case of characters like Wonder Man or Iceman. Meanwhile this one page where we read his thoughts on Forge is clearly pretending this is not the case:
I paid Forge a visit in the Armory – and I must say that he can be, like Logan, rather impossible. There is a certain locker room bravado about him I find perplexing, like a language I only half understand. For instance, he refused to shake my hand but instead dragged me into what he called a “bro hug.” Then he challenged me to a “feat of strength,” asking if I would test out this sappy “muck bomb” he had developed that – or so I gather – glues one in place. He wondered if a “big boy” like me might be able to thrash free of the binding. I refused him and said I very much would prefer to get down to business. He then referred to me as a “bookish peckerwood @#$%” but did so with a friendly laugh and clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to make me stagger. I’m not sure how to process this, honestly. Is he being friendly or cruel? Is it possible to be both?Needless to say, this doesn’t read like Beast. It reads like an android that has never before felt human emotion. I remember before reading this I was theorizing that Hank had been switched with Dark Beast once more to explain his sudden escalation, but after this I realized that couldn’t be the case. Because this sounds like neither Beast nor Dark Beast. Dark Beast understood how to properly write Hank as a villain. He doesn’t suddenly become your typical made scientist devoid of emotion, humor, or basic human understanding. He still makes jokes that are now cruel. He still quotes literature in a way that paints him as a god among men. Hank going bad can be a fun read, but this run was not.
Problem 4: No One Cares:
Another important angle to consider when writing a story of a good person breaking bad is how it affects those around them. Those who are close friends to the person and find themselves disturbed by their current actions. Again, I return to Cyclops. Regardless of where you stand on if he was right or not, he was very much positioned as an antagonist to the mutants at the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning. Yet we see various friends of Cyclops still caring for him and wanting to pull him back from what they perceive as the dark side. Like I previously said, Beast’s whole reason for messing with the timeline was because he felt he was going to die and wanted to try to appeal to his old friend and bring him back around before he passed on. When someone good goes bad, part of the emotional core is seeing former friends try to appeal to their better nature, and even eventually deciding they’ve gone too far to turn back.
Not so with Hank in X-Force. Like I said, this run posits that this is not any kind of heel turn for Hank. This is how he’s always been. “Hank this isn’t you!” “No, he’s always been like this.” “Hank, turn back before it’s too late!” “Turn back where? He’s always been like this.” None of Hank’s friends give a shit. Hank’s best friend amongst the X-Men is Bobby Drake, Iceman, and we never once see any kind of confrontation there. Cyclops and Angel similarly doesn’t care. Now you could argue this is because X-Force is a secretive organization. Bobby and Scott don’t even know what Hank is doing. There are two issues with this. First, things reach a point where they would know. Hank’s actions become public knowledge, and Wolverine goes off to hunt him down while the rest of the X-Men just kinda look the other way. And second, there is someone with a lot of history with Hank that was a part of X-Force and did see everything that was going on. Jean Grey.
But we never get to see Jean wonder what’s happened to her close friend. Jean who was always incredibly close to Hank. Jean who, it was confirmed during the All-New X-Men era, had mutual feelings for Hank and might have started dating him had things been different. But no, Jean, like every character in this run, accepts that Hank has always been like this. That’s the answer to everything. So instead of some kind of emotional confrontation where she tries to appeal to his better nature, we instead have Jean yell at Hank, use her powers to throw him against a wall, and quit X-Force. And then most recently, we see her tell Firestar without hesitation to throw Hank under the bus for any heat that comes her way from her undercover mission. Because everyone will believe Hank is responsible for all the bad shit. Who the hell cares about Hank? According to this run, no one.
Conclusion:
I hope you can see the larger issue here. When Beast fans complain about his Krakoan era, people assume they just don’t want to see their favorite do bad things. But it’s practically accepted at this point in comics that most heroes will have a villain arc. Hell, Iceman is the only one of the original five X-Men who hasn’t gone down a dark path at this point. The problem is that everything about the writing of Hank during this time was just not done well. There is no exploration of Hank’s descent into villainy, and any questioning down that line is immediately shut down by the assertion that this is just who he’s always been. There isn’t any slow escalation because his first move is genocide. Hank is not even written as himself during this era, but rather as a generic bond villain. And none of Hank’s former close friends even show any emotion about his turn to villainy. An evil Hank story could easily work. We saw it with Dark Beast. A story where the former optimistic member of the X-Men has been beaten down so many times that he takes on a “whatever it takes” mentality could be interesting and emotionally resonant as we both understand what drove him here yet hate the man he’s become. But that isn’t what we got. We got a run that wrote him as a complete stranger and then had all the characters tell the reader that they were wrong for ever thinking he was anyone else.
2024.05.21 22:37 Llewellynn-Lavellan Eyeball cardigan
 | I'll try to get better pictures (excuse my messy table!) submitted by Llewellynn-Lavellan to crochet [link] [comments] I followed Hayhay Crochet's halloween granny square cardigan pattern, then used Joy of Motion's free granny square cardigan pattern to know how many squares I would need / their placements for the size I needed. If I recall right I used Pound of Love skeins from Lion Brand. This is my first big, wearable project! |
2024.05.21 20:48 Eastern-Yogurt-7232 I keep having semi-romantic dreams of the same person
I have been having the same dream for the past 4 weeks of a guy I met 5 months ago. We had a family gathering and I met him for the first time through my brother. We connected and he asked me a lot of questions about my life, about school, my aspirations and dreams. A lot of memorable moments was him laughing so hard at my stupid jokes and him being surprised at how young I was (there’s about a 7 year age gap between us). He was very friendly and I was naturally drawn to him, platonically, because he seemed so cool and had his shit together. He even offered me his sweater at night when it got cold, but I declined. At the end of it all, it was just a hug goodbye, and I haven’t seen him since.
The dreams are weird; it always starts off where he’s always there and we strike up conversation. He then would make advances on me, complimenting me and hinting that he likes me. One dream even went far enough where he was kissing my neck to which I enjoyed in my dream but felt violated when I woke up.
Another dream was him holding my waist when we were walking, asking me if I liked him too. All of which are all things he definitely did not do when we met irl. I always wake up feeling like it was real, but also guilty because it’s wrong to my current relationship.
I have him on social media but we don’t communicate at all. He views my posts but nothing more. He knows about my long term relationship because I told him when I met him.
As for my sleeping patterns, they haven’t changed, I’m not taking anything new, I’m very happy in my current relationship, my lifestyle has pretty much been the same since… so it’s just odd how the dreams are recurring even when he hasn’t crossed my mind at all during my waking hours. I guess the only thing I can say is that I’ve been stressed with myself lately but that’s it. What could this mean??
submitted by Eastern-Yogurt-7232 to Dreams [link] [comments]
The dreams are weird; it always starts off where he’s always there and we strike up conversation. He then would make advances on me, complimenting me and hinting that he likes me. One dream even went far enough where he was kissing my neck to which I enjoyed in my dream but felt violated when I woke up.
Another dream was him holding my waist when we were walking, asking me if I liked him too. All of which are all things he definitely did not do when we met irl. I always wake up feeling like it was real, but also guilty because it’s wrong to my current relationship.
I have him on social media but we don’t communicate at all. He views my posts but nothing more. He knows about my long term relationship because I told him when I met him.
As for my sleeping patterns, they haven’t changed, I’m not taking anything new, I’m very happy in my current relationship, my lifestyle has pretty much been the same since… so it’s just odd how the dreams are recurring even when he hasn’t crossed my mind at all during my waking hours. I guess the only thing I can say is that I’ve been stressed with myself lately but that’s it. What could this mean??
2024.05.21 19:56 chr0nicsadness My family is horrible with pets
I'm gonna start this off by saying this is a vent post. It's really long and goes over all the big instances I can recall of animal cruelty happening in my childhood all the way to present, so it will be a lot of paragraphs. The timelines are estimates, but due to trauma I have poor memory involving dates when things happened, and this probably still isn't every incident, again just the big ones I can recall. Read at your own discretion.
I (19F) live with my grandparents (70M and 67F) and my parents (42 M 43 F). Due to some injuries from last year and some medical history, I am disabled and currently jobless, and in the process of trying to obtain disability, which is relevant for later.
Since I was as little as I can remember, my family has always had cats. I even grew up with some cats that ended up feeling like siblings for me not having anyone around them age to interact with until my sister was born when I was 8.
My parents have always loved cats, but I don't think truly ever valued cats. They've always been left outdoors, and eventually the elements always get them. I have never had a family pet that grew past the age 12. All of our cats have either been attacked by dogs that are also loose in my neighborhood, been suspected to have been tortured and unalived by neighbors, got sick, or got ran over, because my family doesn't care and will just 'replace" pets less than a year later.
When I was around 5, I had my very first pet kitten. This kitten was a runt, so it stayed small for a long time. It also was very hard to potty train, and because of this, they released it outside when it was maybe barely 7-8 weeks. He did good for about a month, but after that, he vanished. But there was evidence when he disappeared that there were large dog paw prints in our driveway because it was rainy that previous night, and his food bowl was dragged out in the yard, which he couldn't have done.
Also around 5, my aunt (at this time 13F) was living with us, as her mom (my mom's mom) wasn't taking good care of her and was in and out of jail. She had pet guinea pigs for a bit. My parents decided to feed the guinea pigs potatoes without doing any kind of research. One of them died. The other one was sick and anxious all the time, so my aunt decided to release it in our backyard? It was also winter. (I want to say that I do not blame her directly because she was still a child and in a similar situation to me, and my parents didn't care about the well-being of these poor guinea pigs anyways.)
And yet another story of around age 5, my dad bought the family a pet red-eared turtle. The tank was too small for her. My dad also thought it would be "funny" and "cool" to put fish in there with this turtle whenever we were about to go on vacation. She ate all the fish in the tank: Neons, goldfish, the tank cleaners, and whatever other fish species he put in that confined tank that wasn't more than 20 gallons. (Red-eared turtles alone need around 40 at minimum.)
But that's not all. While on vacation, both I and my 13 year-old aunt got baby yellow-belly sliders. We took them home, and we put them in the tank with our adult turtle. She ate the heads off of both of them. There was one goldfish left there as well, and I got traumatized seeing both the dead turtles, and seeing her eat that last gold fish in two chomps one time.
When I was around 6, my family randomly decided, "Let's own goats!" because they have a big backyard with an old shed. Well, they ended up buying a small amount of chicken wire fence and giving them outside of the barn about a few feet to move around when our backyard is fairly large and most of it wasn't being used. And we live in a residential area, so every night we had the goats, they would scream. My parents hated their screaming and started neglecting them more by giving them less attention, which only made them scream 24/7. Finally, my parents decided to give the goats to some distant family that has farmland. (We are in the south.)
When I was around 8-9, I got another cat. She was a pretty cat, but very mean and feisty. She didn't really like anyone, but I loved her regardless. This cat was too annoying for my parents to deal with because she had behavioral issues, and instead of taking her to the vet, they decided to make her start staying outside. She loved it, but a bit too much.
(Big TW: death and some descriptions of gore) One day, I had to help my mom deal with her corpse on the road. I was obviously really sad and fell into a deal depression. I also panicked and nearly threw up when I saw, because her eyeball was hanging out. It was so disturbing for a child to see. We buried her together, but I was made fun of one day by my parents for randomly crying about her death.
When I was around 10, I owned my third cat. She also had a brother from the same litter, and my mom had recently lost a cat that she did keep inside from kidney disease. I haven't had my own cat in a while, and they decided to adopt this sibling pair from the neighbors. I got the female, my mom got the male, because she is the type to insist that boy cats are better.
Anyways, I LOVED this cat. I did so much for her, and she loved me and followed me everywhere. We'd cuddle to sleep together. She was my best friend.
But my parents never got her fixed. They also never got the brother fixed. They ended up doing the tango (gross I know, but nature) and my cat had kittens a little bit less than a year old. Since she was too young for kittens, she at first didn't know what she was doing and even misplaced her first outside and ran to me while in labor with the second. I found that kitten and helped her with all 5 of her kittens, all girls also, and the kittens ended up getting close to me as well.
Of course, once they were around 6-7 weeks, my parents were wanting to start finding home for them. But they also had another idea in mind. They wanted me to get rid of my adult cat, and the brother cat as well, and we'd take one kitten. At first I was like no, but they manipulated me and convinced me a kitten would be better. I told them which kitten I wanted, and it looked a lot like my cat. But no, since they thought one of the cats might be distantly Siamese and thought it looked the coolest from it's tabby and Siamese-like pattern, they chose that one, and then dropped my beloved cat and her brother off at a cemetery, didn't even let me say bye. They just threw them away like pieces of garbage. And then I ended up resenting that kitten anyways for not being MY cat, so the family ended up crashing her as well, and she disappeared a few years later.
Around age 11-12, I somehow managed to have pet hermit crabs, another pet yellow-belly slider turtle, and two pet rabbits. My parents were basically throwing pets at me because I guess they felt guilty or something about what they did to me. I didn't end up taking care of any of them, and they all died of starvation and/or dehydration, and I still feel terrible about it. I was so depressed that I couldn't take care of myself either. And I was given animals on top of it, and I was forced to be a high schooler in school. The pets suffered at the cost of what? Why did I even have them?
Around age 13, my parents were driving me home from school, and we saw some Canada geese with their babies by a pond. I'm sure you know where this is going, considering everything else. My mom convinced me to jump out of the car with her, and she distracted the adult geese while I caught a baby one. I knew that in itself was bad, but I didn't know Canada geese were such a protected species.
The little guy imprinted on me. I loved him, he would follow me around the yard. But once again my parents got out that chicken fence, only this time it was on the side of the house, and no shed for him to take cover in (still like a few feet of movement max.) He was growing fast, and he was plucking his feathers. A neighbor noticed and told us to get rid of him or we'd call authorities. They lied and said we "found him and rescued him." I was told to lie about this narrative for years. They ended up dropping him back off at the pond we got him from about two months after we first got him. He couldn't fly, his family wasn't there. He was defenseless. I still feel terrible to this day, I know I was manipulated, but I was 13. And again, I defend my aunt and she was also 13, so I really don't know.
When I was 15, that first turtle I mentioned was still there at our house for all those years. She had quite literally been there for a decade. My parents got tired of having to clean her tank, and she was obviously too big for it as well. But was their response to upgrade tanks and the old filtering system that's been there all that time? Nope. While I was at school, he just...released her. And not in a pond or anything, you know, being an aquatic turtle. (Not like that would be better, but better than what he did.) He just put her outside, in our front driveway. She ran away surprisingly fast according to him. An aquatic pet turtle. Just released in a residential neighborhood. I'm totally sure nothing awful happened to her.( /sarcasm.)
When I was also 15, this was when the pandemic hit. I was super depressed and bored all the time. But then a female stray cat came to our house and had kittens behind a board against my grandparents house. I started fostering them and their mom immediately. I didn't know at the time that we had any no kill shelters nearby, and neither did my parents. When the kittens were old enough, we started rehoming them. There were 3 in total. 1 got a home. The other was still outside for some reason and disappeared. The other one became my pet, whom was at first the family pet. But then they decided that he was too annoying (because he was sweet and affectionate and not what they wanted out of cats which was mean, feisty, playful.)
He is the sweetest boy ever and is still alive to this day, but because I still live with my horrible family, he has to be outdoors, and he gets really scabby from the bugs outside during the summer. As soon as I can I will move out, take him to the vet, and take him out of this home. He shouldn't have to be here.
A few years ago, my sister (11F but maybe 9F at the time) got her own kitten. He ended up growing up to be sweet and affectionate like my cat, so neither her nor my parents want him and he's outdoors, so I'll probably try to take him too.
My sister now has her own new cat that's about a year old she got last year. So far she's not abandoning him since he's a mix of sweet and playful, but my parents have talked about making him indoor-outdoor, which really means "Indoor-outdoor for a few days but after a while we'll just leave him outside and let him stay there."
As a child, I was taught so many messed up things about animals. That dogs are disgusting, gross, and pets have no feelings, and I was taught that cats also have no feelings as a child, but that they are at least a more fun and less gross pet. In fact, in my parent's eyes, no animals have feelings or sentience or any of those things. They are just play things for our benefit. Because of this, as a child I also did not treat animals with the respect they deserve, and I acknowledge this. I have been unlearning so much of this behavior since I was about 13, the goose that I had was my wakeup call.
Please, I know it may seem crazy to some that I out of all people are speaking on this, but if you own animals, please keep them indoors. And with cats specifically, if they crave outside, harness train them. Buy/build a cheap patio in your window if possible. Just don't let them roam free. They will kill so much wildlife. Having to also deal with the grief of my pets killing and bringing dead rabbits, moles, birds opossums, etc. is also a lot. It heavily effects your surrounding ecosystem as well, because annually house cats are estimated to kill over a billion birds and over 6 billion mammals. That's disastrous, and could be avoided if there weren't so many bad pet owners.
Also, don't get animals that go in tanks/terrariums/cages in general if you don't have the money to get them the most spacious enclosure with ALL of their needs. Don't put fish in bowls, it effects their eyesight and shortens their lifespans SIGNIFICANTLY. In general, do not get a pet unless you have the financial means to do so AND if you've thoroughly researched that pet, get it ethically sourced, and if you make sure you have the mental capacity to care for an animal. ANIMALS ARE NOT TOYS. ANIMALS ARE NOT HERE FOR OUR ENTERTAINMENT, FOR OUR JOY. THEY ARE LIVING BEINGS WITH THOUGHTS, EMOTIONS, AND A LIFE. THEY DESERVE RESPECT AND DECENCY. NO, THEY DESERVE BEYOND DECENCY, THEY DESERVE TO BE WORSHIPPED AND NURTURED AND SPOILED BY US, NOT TORMENTED AND ABUSED! Thank you.
Also, if you somehow got this far, please read my previous story and give me advice on that one if you have the time, but if not that's perfectly okay. My living situation sucks, but hopefully things can change. I'm counting on a change to happen soon.
submitted by chr0nicsadness to confessions [link] [comments]
I (19F) live with my grandparents (70M and 67F) and my parents (42 M 43 F). Due to some injuries from last year and some medical history, I am disabled and currently jobless, and in the process of trying to obtain disability, which is relevant for later.
Since I was as little as I can remember, my family has always had cats. I even grew up with some cats that ended up feeling like siblings for me not having anyone around them age to interact with until my sister was born when I was 8.
My parents have always loved cats, but I don't think truly ever valued cats. They've always been left outdoors, and eventually the elements always get them. I have never had a family pet that grew past the age 12. All of our cats have either been attacked by dogs that are also loose in my neighborhood, been suspected to have been tortured and unalived by neighbors, got sick, or got ran over, because my family doesn't care and will just 'replace" pets less than a year later.
When I was around 5, I had my very first pet kitten. This kitten was a runt, so it stayed small for a long time. It also was very hard to potty train, and because of this, they released it outside when it was maybe barely 7-8 weeks. He did good for about a month, but after that, he vanished. But there was evidence when he disappeared that there were large dog paw prints in our driveway because it was rainy that previous night, and his food bowl was dragged out in the yard, which he couldn't have done.
Also around 5, my aunt (at this time 13F) was living with us, as her mom (my mom's mom) wasn't taking good care of her and was in and out of jail. She had pet guinea pigs for a bit. My parents decided to feed the guinea pigs potatoes without doing any kind of research. One of them died. The other one was sick and anxious all the time, so my aunt decided to release it in our backyard? It was also winter. (I want to say that I do not blame her directly because she was still a child and in a similar situation to me, and my parents didn't care about the well-being of these poor guinea pigs anyways.)
And yet another story of around age 5, my dad bought the family a pet red-eared turtle. The tank was too small for her. My dad also thought it would be "funny" and "cool" to put fish in there with this turtle whenever we were about to go on vacation. She ate all the fish in the tank: Neons, goldfish, the tank cleaners, and whatever other fish species he put in that confined tank that wasn't more than 20 gallons. (Red-eared turtles alone need around 40 at minimum.)
But that's not all. While on vacation, both I and my 13 year-old aunt got baby yellow-belly sliders. We took them home, and we put them in the tank with our adult turtle. She ate the heads off of both of them. There was one goldfish left there as well, and I got traumatized seeing both the dead turtles, and seeing her eat that last gold fish in two chomps one time.
When I was around 6, my family randomly decided, "Let's own goats!" because they have a big backyard with an old shed. Well, they ended up buying a small amount of chicken wire fence and giving them outside of the barn about a few feet to move around when our backyard is fairly large and most of it wasn't being used. And we live in a residential area, so every night we had the goats, they would scream. My parents hated their screaming and started neglecting them more by giving them less attention, which only made them scream 24/7. Finally, my parents decided to give the goats to some distant family that has farmland. (We are in the south.)
When I was around 8-9, I got another cat. She was a pretty cat, but very mean and feisty. She didn't really like anyone, but I loved her regardless. This cat was too annoying for my parents to deal with because she had behavioral issues, and instead of taking her to the vet, they decided to make her start staying outside. She loved it, but a bit too much.
(Big TW: death and some descriptions of gore) One day, I had to help my mom deal with her corpse on the road. I was obviously really sad and fell into a deal depression. I also panicked and nearly threw up when I saw, because her eyeball was hanging out. It was so disturbing for a child to see. We buried her together, but I was made fun of one day by my parents for randomly crying about her death.
When I was around 10, I owned my third cat. She also had a brother from the same litter, and my mom had recently lost a cat that she did keep inside from kidney disease. I haven't had my own cat in a while, and they decided to adopt this sibling pair from the neighbors. I got the female, my mom got the male, because she is the type to insist that boy cats are better.
Anyways, I LOVED this cat. I did so much for her, and she loved me and followed me everywhere. We'd cuddle to sleep together. She was my best friend.
But my parents never got her fixed. They also never got the brother fixed. They ended up doing the tango (gross I know, but nature) and my cat had kittens a little bit less than a year old. Since she was too young for kittens, she at first didn't know what she was doing and even misplaced her first outside and ran to me while in labor with the second. I found that kitten and helped her with all 5 of her kittens, all girls also, and the kittens ended up getting close to me as well.
Of course, once they were around 6-7 weeks, my parents were wanting to start finding home for them. But they also had another idea in mind. They wanted me to get rid of my adult cat, and the brother cat as well, and we'd take one kitten. At first I was like no, but they manipulated me and convinced me a kitten would be better. I told them which kitten I wanted, and it looked a lot like my cat. But no, since they thought one of the cats might be distantly Siamese and thought it looked the coolest from it's tabby and Siamese-like pattern, they chose that one, and then dropped my beloved cat and her brother off at a cemetery, didn't even let me say bye. They just threw them away like pieces of garbage. And then I ended up resenting that kitten anyways for not being MY cat, so the family ended up crashing her as well, and she disappeared a few years later.
Around age 11-12, I somehow managed to have pet hermit crabs, another pet yellow-belly slider turtle, and two pet rabbits. My parents were basically throwing pets at me because I guess they felt guilty or something about what they did to me. I didn't end up taking care of any of them, and they all died of starvation and/or dehydration, and I still feel terrible about it. I was so depressed that I couldn't take care of myself either. And I was given animals on top of it, and I was forced to be a high schooler in school. The pets suffered at the cost of what? Why did I even have them?
Around age 13, my parents were driving me home from school, and we saw some Canada geese with their babies by a pond. I'm sure you know where this is going, considering everything else. My mom convinced me to jump out of the car with her, and she distracted the adult geese while I caught a baby one. I knew that in itself was bad, but I didn't know Canada geese were such a protected species.
The little guy imprinted on me. I loved him, he would follow me around the yard. But once again my parents got out that chicken fence, only this time it was on the side of the house, and no shed for him to take cover in (still like a few feet of movement max.) He was growing fast, and he was plucking his feathers. A neighbor noticed and told us to get rid of him or we'd call authorities. They lied and said we "found him and rescued him." I was told to lie about this narrative for years. They ended up dropping him back off at the pond we got him from about two months after we first got him. He couldn't fly, his family wasn't there. He was defenseless. I still feel terrible to this day, I know I was manipulated, but I was 13. And again, I defend my aunt and she was also 13, so I really don't know.
When I was 15, that first turtle I mentioned was still there at our house for all those years. She had quite literally been there for a decade. My parents got tired of having to clean her tank, and she was obviously too big for it as well. But was their response to upgrade tanks and the old filtering system that's been there all that time? Nope. While I was at school, he just...released her. And not in a pond or anything, you know, being an aquatic turtle. (Not like that would be better, but better than what he did.) He just put her outside, in our front driveway. She ran away surprisingly fast according to him. An aquatic pet turtle. Just released in a residential neighborhood. I'm totally sure nothing awful happened to her.( /sarcasm.)
When I was also 15, this was when the pandemic hit. I was super depressed and bored all the time. But then a female stray cat came to our house and had kittens behind a board against my grandparents house. I started fostering them and their mom immediately. I didn't know at the time that we had any no kill shelters nearby, and neither did my parents. When the kittens were old enough, we started rehoming them. There were 3 in total. 1 got a home. The other was still outside for some reason and disappeared. The other one became my pet, whom was at first the family pet. But then they decided that he was too annoying (because he was sweet and affectionate and not what they wanted out of cats which was mean, feisty, playful.)
He is the sweetest boy ever and is still alive to this day, but because I still live with my horrible family, he has to be outdoors, and he gets really scabby from the bugs outside during the summer. As soon as I can I will move out, take him to the vet, and take him out of this home. He shouldn't have to be here.
A few years ago, my sister (11F but maybe 9F at the time) got her own kitten. He ended up growing up to be sweet and affectionate like my cat, so neither her nor my parents want him and he's outdoors, so I'll probably try to take him too.
My sister now has her own new cat that's about a year old she got last year. So far she's not abandoning him since he's a mix of sweet and playful, but my parents have talked about making him indoor-outdoor, which really means "Indoor-outdoor for a few days but after a while we'll just leave him outside and let him stay there."
As a child, I was taught so many messed up things about animals. That dogs are disgusting, gross, and pets have no feelings, and I was taught that cats also have no feelings as a child, but that they are at least a more fun and less gross pet. In fact, in my parent's eyes, no animals have feelings or sentience or any of those things. They are just play things for our benefit. Because of this, as a child I also did not treat animals with the respect they deserve, and I acknowledge this. I have been unlearning so much of this behavior since I was about 13, the goose that I had was my wakeup call.
Please, I know it may seem crazy to some that I out of all people are speaking on this, but if you own animals, please keep them indoors. And with cats specifically, if they crave outside, harness train them. Buy/build a cheap patio in your window if possible. Just don't let them roam free. They will kill so much wildlife. Having to also deal with the grief of my pets killing and bringing dead rabbits, moles, birds opossums, etc. is also a lot. It heavily effects your surrounding ecosystem as well, because annually house cats are estimated to kill over a billion birds and over 6 billion mammals. That's disastrous, and could be avoided if there weren't so many bad pet owners.
Also, don't get animals that go in tanks/terrariums/cages in general if you don't have the money to get them the most spacious enclosure with ALL of their needs. Don't put fish in bowls, it effects their eyesight and shortens their lifespans SIGNIFICANTLY. In general, do not get a pet unless you have the financial means to do so AND if you've thoroughly researched that pet, get it ethically sourced, and if you make sure you have the mental capacity to care for an animal. ANIMALS ARE NOT TOYS. ANIMALS ARE NOT HERE FOR OUR ENTERTAINMENT, FOR OUR JOY. THEY ARE LIVING BEINGS WITH THOUGHTS, EMOTIONS, AND A LIFE. THEY DESERVE RESPECT AND DECENCY. NO, THEY DESERVE BEYOND DECENCY, THEY DESERVE TO BE WORSHIPPED AND NURTURED AND SPOILED BY US, NOT TORMENTED AND ABUSED! Thank you.
Also, if you somehow got this far, please read my previous story and give me advice on that one if you have the time, but if not that's perfectly okay. My living situation sucks, but hopefully things can change. I'm counting on a change to happen soon.
2024.05.21 19:20 Majestic-Goat-8039 New Design - Beautiful Flower Crochet Pattern: Free Online Tutorial for ...
New Design - Beautiful Flower Crochet Pattern: Free Online Tutorial for Crocheting Beginners ... https://youtu.be/LZv7muZ-eWE?si=2G-IDJEbsBCgX7bf *
submitted by Majestic-Goat-8039 to CrochetModel [link] [comments]
2024.05.21 19:15 needlelacemaster New Design - Beautiful Flower Crochet Pattern: Free Online Tutorial for ...
New Design - Beautiful Flower Crochet Pattern: Free Online Tutorial for Crocheting Beginners ... https://youtu.be/LZv7muZ-eWE?si=2G-IDJEbsBCgX7bf *
submitted by needlelacemaster to Needlelacemaster [link] [comments]
2024.05.21 19:14 needlelacemaster New Design - Beautiful Flower Crochet Pattern: Free Online Tutorial for ...
New Design - Beautiful Flower Crochet Pattern: Free Online Tutorial for Crocheting Beginners ... https://youtu.be/LZv7muZ-eWE?si=2G-IDJEbsBCgX7bf *
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2024.05.21 19:13 needlelacemaster New Design - Beautiful Flower Crochet Pattern: Free Online Tutorial for ...
New Design - Beautiful Flower Crochet Pattern: Free Online Tutorial for Crocheting Beginners ... https://youtu.be/LZv7muZ-eWE?si=2G-IDJEbsBCgX7bf *
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2024.05.21 18:39 AcanthaceaeWitty74 My parents (M58, F56) have replaced me (M33) with a guy (M28) that I believe is taking advantage of them. What should I do?
Never thought I would be making a post on here, but I only get 3 free therapist visits a year so here I am.
TLDR : My parents have fully replaced me with some guy (M28) they met at work/ church. I'm slightly hurt but ultimately it's their life and they can do what the please. I am more bewildered, and concerned about my parents being taken advantage of.
First some relevant background info:
My parents are VERY religious boomers. by this I mean more religious than you would believe until you actually spoke to them. growing up this created a lot of friction between us. As I reached my teens I became disillusioned with organized Christianity mostly due to the fact that a lot of modern day interpretations miss the point of what is written in the Bible. the hypocrisy I witnessed was rampant among church members including my parents. I strongly disliked their thinly veiled revulsion for any people who they considered "sinners", a title which was doled out on a whim. even while I was in the church it would be weaponized against other church goers and even myself once. a pastor from another church told a girl I was hanging out with that I would lead her to hell, despite the fact that I also went to church. she promptly cut off all contact despite admitting that she didn't want to, but was being threatened with being kicked out of her church groups of she did not.
back to my parents: we were at odds throughout my teen years as I began to avoid church and anything about it. I did not stop believing but I did not want to be associated with their type of toxic Christianity. this was not something they could understand. when I say they are fully indoctrinated it means they are irredeemable in many of their views. they were willing to ignore any and all boundaries I set about religion even to this day. despite me telling them that what they were doing would tear our family apart. in the end they chose religion over their children. my sister is essentially no contact with them.
as a very young child, our family moved around a lot. I was a continual outsider. I had no friends, at all. my parents would say it was no big deal cause I was just a kid and kids don't care about that stuff really, kids don't know the difference, etc. but I knew the difference and I desperately wanted friendship and community. the only constants were 2 hyper controlling parents who wanted a quiet and obedient follower.
eventually we moved to a place where I was able to form solid friendships for the first time in my life. it was , to this day, the happiest time period of my life. this lasted until my final year of high school when my parents decided to move. despite me having many friends whose parents offered me a place to stay for the final year, my parents forced me to move. this caused me to spiral into a deep depression for around 3 years. I developed enduring social anxiety which I deal with to this day. I have made peace with the fact that I will never have a lot of friends, but thinking about what I missed out on is painful. years later I found out they forced me to move because they prayed and God told them it would be better for all of us if I moved with them. we needed to stay together as a family. then 2 years later they moved back to the place they took me from. all I can do is laugh at this because it is so dark and obviously bullshit. when it was my life getting fucked up "God" said ok we needed to stay together as a family. when I needed support he said naw just ditch him and move away.
my life was destroyed by religion. I have since learned that of course, we are ultimately in charge of our own happiness, but at the time I had no knowledge of trauma or therapy. simply 2 parents who reduced every concern I ever had in my life to "just pray about it". in fact throughout my entire life they diminished all of my concerns, big and small. in addition, they would often judge me for everything I did, even if they were innocent to a non religious person. so I would only tell them about things when I absolutely had no other choice. and they would treat them as wholly unimportant. they also believed that men should not be upset or emotional and should figure things out for themselves. so they would help my sister out whenever she needed it, including buying her a new car, while I was riding my bike an hour each way to go to engineering school. there were many points in my life where I was at rock bottom, and despite them having more than enough means to help me, they did not.
compounding this is the fact that all the while they diminished my own concerns, they would bend over backwards to help people not in our family. they always wanted to appear nice and helpful, but this never extended to me. in fact they would often do things to inconvenience me in order to help some random person they just met.
All of these circumstances created a very weird relationship dynamic between us all. I became avoidant, negative and pessimistic for years before I discovered therapy and began to work through my mental health issues. I struggled in many relationships I had, and always felt like I was a lesser person than everyone else. this persisted until around 3 years ago when I began to correct the errors in my thinking patterns. despite therapy, I still struggle to have a relationship with my parents. all they talk about is religion. I have given up trying to enforce the boundary there. there is no point. they don't know anything else. they cannot be different and have no desire to change, in fact they see no error in their actions throughout the years. despite me obviously having issues. they essentially chalk it up to me just being a bad egg. I have since been able to forgive them, but the trauma I experienced throughout my life has left me with tendencies they hate. I withdraw when I am depressed, I am prone to anxiety from time to time, I have ADHD, I distance myself from them because all they do is cross my boundaries to preach at me, etc etc.
Back to the present:
Before my dad retired he hired this guy, let's call him Raj, at his work. just a basic bank employee. he is a nice enough guy I think. a little awkward but nice enough. I believe he has an engineering degree from another country but it got rejected by our country, so he had to just take whatever job he could get. he is new to the country and a bit of a fish out of water, this is the reason I think most people looked past his non ordinary behavior.... I literally cannot imagine myself ever hanging out or going on vacations with my boss, who is 20+ years older than me.
he struggled to understand the job and my dad had to spend a lot of time with him to get him up to speed. he began to go to my dad for life advice beyond work, as he struggled with making friends or getting a girlfriend. I think eventually my parents invited him to church and he went, despite being originally Hindu. eventually he went with them regularly and integrated himself with them to a wild extent that I did not realize until this past weekend when they came to "visit". they brought this motherfucker with them without saying shit beforehand. paid for his hotel and all his food. bought him clothes and took him on errands. all while saying they didn't really have time to assist me; I cannot drive anymore as I began having seizures 3 years ago.
when we did finally hang out, my own parents mistakenly called me his name many times. they acted like a family and treated me like I was just some dude lol.
we went out to dinner with some friends of theirs who were also in town. during dinner they called Raj my parents adopted son. needless to say I was very weirded out. but did not say anything. if I did they would just say I was being negative and I look like the asshole.
I know Raj does not make a lot of money but somehow he was able to buy a small house a year after starting work. I have not seen proof personally but my sister has said she is sure that my pprovided the down payment. this is where I began to be concerned they are being taken advantage of. this is very out of character for my parents.
I have considered also the weirdest possiblity, that they may have some kind of weird ass sugar baby relationship but I simply cannot see that being the case. they are hypocrites about some aspects of Christianity, such as not judging people, but they are 1000% devout when it comes to what they would deem as sin.
I get the impression that they have empty nest syndrome and compounded with their propensity to bend over backwards for non family members, they have essentially adopted this guy. he is at their house several times a week. as far as I know my mom prepares most of his meals.
it appears to me that they found a replacement for me with none of the mental health issues and resentment ( that they caused) and who was willing to play the part of a church goer. I fear now, based on watching them shop together that he is taking advantage of them. If they are just choosing to help him out money wise that is MASSIVELY out of character for them to do so to this extent. this is the main reason I think they are being taken advantage of. they are doing things for this guy they would NEVER do for anyone.
I am not sure how to approach this situation or what to even think about it. I lack the bandwidth to really mull it over or be upset about it. one thing I am certain of is that me saying anything about this will do nothing except make them mad and bring them closer together .they think I am simply a negative person and don't really listen to my thoughts on things, whether I am right or not.they have always treated me like I'm a moron
Is this as weird to you as it is to me? What would you do in this scenario?
submitted by AcanthaceaeWitty74 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
TLDR : My parents have fully replaced me with some guy (M28) they met at work/ church. I'm slightly hurt but ultimately it's their life and they can do what the please. I am more bewildered, and concerned about my parents being taken advantage of.
First some relevant background info:
My parents are VERY religious boomers. by this I mean more religious than you would believe until you actually spoke to them. growing up this created a lot of friction between us. As I reached my teens I became disillusioned with organized Christianity mostly due to the fact that a lot of modern day interpretations miss the point of what is written in the Bible. the hypocrisy I witnessed was rampant among church members including my parents. I strongly disliked their thinly veiled revulsion for any people who they considered "sinners", a title which was doled out on a whim. even while I was in the church it would be weaponized against other church goers and even myself once. a pastor from another church told a girl I was hanging out with that I would lead her to hell, despite the fact that I also went to church. she promptly cut off all contact despite admitting that she didn't want to, but was being threatened with being kicked out of her church groups of she did not.
back to my parents: we were at odds throughout my teen years as I began to avoid church and anything about it. I did not stop believing but I did not want to be associated with their type of toxic Christianity. this was not something they could understand. when I say they are fully indoctrinated it means they are irredeemable in many of their views. they were willing to ignore any and all boundaries I set about religion even to this day. despite me telling them that what they were doing would tear our family apart. in the end they chose religion over their children. my sister is essentially no contact with them.
as a very young child, our family moved around a lot. I was a continual outsider. I had no friends, at all. my parents would say it was no big deal cause I was just a kid and kids don't care about that stuff really, kids don't know the difference, etc. but I knew the difference and I desperately wanted friendship and community. the only constants were 2 hyper controlling parents who wanted a quiet and obedient follower.
eventually we moved to a place where I was able to form solid friendships for the first time in my life. it was , to this day, the happiest time period of my life. this lasted until my final year of high school when my parents decided to move. despite me having many friends whose parents offered me a place to stay for the final year, my parents forced me to move. this caused me to spiral into a deep depression for around 3 years. I developed enduring social anxiety which I deal with to this day. I have made peace with the fact that I will never have a lot of friends, but thinking about what I missed out on is painful. years later I found out they forced me to move because they prayed and God told them it would be better for all of us if I moved with them. we needed to stay together as a family. then 2 years later they moved back to the place they took me from. all I can do is laugh at this because it is so dark and obviously bullshit. when it was my life getting fucked up "God" said ok we needed to stay together as a family. when I needed support he said naw just ditch him and move away.
my life was destroyed by religion. I have since learned that of course, we are ultimately in charge of our own happiness, but at the time I had no knowledge of trauma or therapy. simply 2 parents who reduced every concern I ever had in my life to "just pray about it". in fact throughout my entire life they diminished all of my concerns, big and small. in addition, they would often judge me for everything I did, even if they were innocent to a non religious person. so I would only tell them about things when I absolutely had no other choice. and they would treat them as wholly unimportant. they also believed that men should not be upset or emotional and should figure things out for themselves. so they would help my sister out whenever she needed it, including buying her a new car, while I was riding my bike an hour each way to go to engineering school. there were many points in my life where I was at rock bottom, and despite them having more than enough means to help me, they did not.
compounding this is the fact that all the while they diminished my own concerns, they would bend over backwards to help people not in our family. they always wanted to appear nice and helpful, but this never extended to me. in fact they would often do things to inconvenience me in order to help some random person they just met.
All of these circumstances created a very weird relationship dynamic between us all. I became avoidant, negative and pessimistic for years before I discovered therapy and began to work through my mental health issues. I struggled in many relationships I had, and always felt like I was a lesser person than everyone else. this persisted until around 3 years ago when I began to correct the errors in my thinking patterns. despite therapy, I still struggle to have a relationship with my parents. all they talk about is religion. I have given up trying to enforce the boundary there. there is no point. they don't know anything else. they cannot be different and have no desire to change, in fact they see no error in their actions throughout the years. despite me obviously having issues. they essentially chalk it up to me just being a bad egg. I have since been able to forgive them, but the trauma I experienced throughout my life has left me with tendencies they hate. I withdraw when I am depressed, I am prone to anxiety from time to time, I have ADHD, I distance myself from them because all they do is cross my boundaries to preach at me, etc etc.
Back to the present:
Before my dad retired he hired this guy, let's call him Raj, at his work. just a basic bank employee. he is a nice enough guy I think. a little awkward but nice enough. I believe he has an engineering degree from another country but it got rejected by our country, so he had to just take whatever job he could get. he is new to the country and a bit of a fish out of water, this is the reason I think most people looked past his non ordinary behavior.... I literally cannot imagine myself ever hanging out or going on vacations with my boss, who is 20+ years older than me.
he struggled to understand the job and my dad had to spend a lot of time with him to get him up to speed. he began to go to my dad for life advice beyond work, as he struggled with making friends or getting a girlfriend. I think eventually my parents invited him to church and he went, despite being originally Hindu. eventually he went with them regularly and integrated himself with them to a wild extent that I did not realize until this past weekend when they came to "visit". they brought this motherfucker with them without saying shit beforehand. paid for his hotel and all his food. bought him clothes and took him on errands. all while saying they didn't really have time to assist me; I cannot drive anymore as I began having seizures 3 years ago.
when we did finally hang out, my own parents mistakenly called me his name many times. they acted like a family and treated me like I was just some dude lol.
we went out to dinner with some friends of theirs who were also in town. during dinner they called Raj my parents adopted son. needless to say I was very weirded out. but did not say anything. if I did they would just say I was being negative and I look like the asshole.
I know Raj does not make a lot of money but somehow he was able to buy a small house a year after starting work. I have not seen proof personally but my sister has said she is sure that my pprovided the down payment. this is where I began to be concerned they are being taken advantage of. this is very out of character for my parents.
I have considered also the weirdest possiblity, that they may have some kind of weird ass sugar baby relationship but I simply cannot see that being the case. they are hypocrites about some aspects of Christianity, such as not judging people, but they are 1000% devout when it comes to what they would deem as sin.
I get the impression that they have empty nest syndrome and compounded with their propensity to bend over backwards for non family members, they have essentially adopted this guy. he is at their house several times a week. as far as I know my mom prepares most of his meals.
it appears to me that they found a replacement for me with none of the mental health issues and resentment ( that they caused) and who was willing to play the part of a church goer. I fear now, based on watching them shop together that he is taking advantage of them. If they are just choosing to help him out money wise that is MASSIVELY out of character for them to do so to this extent. this is the main reason I think they are being taken advantage of. they are doing things for this guy they would NEVER do for anyone.
I am not sure how to approach this situation or what to even think about it. I lack the bandwidth to really mull it over or be upset about it. one thing I am certain of is that me saying anything about this will do nothing except make them mad and bring them closer together .they think I am simply a negative person and don't really listen to my thoughts on things, whether I am right or not.they have always treated me like I'm a moron
Is this as weird to you as it is to me? What would you do in this scenario?
2024.05.21 18:24 Majestic-Goat-8039 Wonderful Easy Crochet Pattern Free Online Tutorial for Beginners Tığ İş...
Wonderful Easy Crochet Pattern Free Online Tutorial for Beginners Tığ İşi Örgü".. https://youtu.be/6JM4vbU5jKM?si=DTheGmVzfs6U5i66 @*
submitted by Majestic-Goat-8039 to CrochetModel [link] [comments]
2024.05.21 18:24 Majestic-Goat-8039 Wonderful Easy Crochet Pattern Free Online Tutorial for Beginners Tığ İş...
Wonderful Easy Crochet Pattern Free Online Tutorial for Beginners Tığ İşi Örgü".. https://youtu.be/6JM4vbU5jKM?si=DTheGmVzfs6U5i66 @*
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2024.05.21 18:09 needlelacemaster Wonderful Easy Crochet Pattern Free Online Tutorial for Beginners Tığ İş...
Wonderful Easy Crochet Pattern Free Online Tutorial for Beginners Tığ İşi Örgü".. https://youtu.be/6JM4vbU5jKM?si=DTheGmVzfs6U5i66 @*
submitted by needlelacemaster to u/needlelacemaster [link] [comments]
2024.05.21 17:59 CIAHerpes In the caverns under Frost Hollow, I found the madness of the ancient gods
I sit alone in my room on the seventh floor, writing what will surely be my last will and testament. The heroin which allowed me to forget and to sleep for the last couple of years has lost its power to keep the screaming terrors away. The drug destroyed my body and mind, gradually eating away at them like a corrosive acid. Now I have become a slave to it. And yet, without it, I do not sleep for weeks, but instead continuously see the scenes from that terrible night running through my head on repeat as worsening waves of madness crash on the shores of my consciousness.
In the caverns under the town of Frost Hollow, I found the meaning of true madness. Ever since I escaped that den of horrors, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is only the feverish delirium of an unhinged mind.
Even now, they wait behind the door to this cheap, bare rented room. They drag their claws over the wood. I hear them hissing in that strange, ancient tongue, the one I first heard in the tombs of rock that had been undisturbed for countless millennia.
***
I had first heard rumors of an unexplored cavern from my friend, an experienced caver named Sonia who had explored caverns all over the world. I had been looking for some excitement in my life, some break from the constant monotony and boredom of simply working and sleeping. I had gone caving quite a few times over the year leading up to the trip, but I was not nearly as experienced and had never explored a supposedly virgin passageway of cavern before.
“How do you know no one’s gone down there?” I asked, curious. We sat across from each other at a local diner, getting some early breakfast before our planned descent. The sunrise was still another half-hour away, the sky flat and dark. We would be joined by Sonia’s husband, Phil, who would meet us there shortly after sunrise. I repressed an urge to yawn, chugging half of the steaming hot coffee in one long swallow. Sonia leaned close to me, her nearly colorless blue eyes reminding me of chunks of ice floating down a muddy stream.
“Phil’s friend just found it randomly,” she whispered before glancing around conspiratorially, as if she feared someone would care enough to eavesdrop on a conversation about a cave. “Well, it’s in the middle of a farm, and Phil’s friend, Jack Graysole, owns the entire property and surrounding woods. Jack says he noticed the cows kept going over to a certain spot in the field when it got really hot during the summertime. They would all gather around this little indentation in the grass. After seeing it a few times, Jack got curious and went to investigate what the cows were doing.
“He found a small hole in the ground, almost entirely covered by weeds and grass. He said he felt a cool breeze constantly blowing out of the hole, a breeze that smelled like burning matches and charred metal. After bringing out some shovels and digging down a couple feet, Jack realized that the hole wasn’t a hole at all, but the beginning of a steep passageway leading deep into the bowels of the earth.”
***
The owner of the land decided to unofficially call the newly-discovered cavern Graysole Caverns. Out of respect for him, this is also the name we all used. This is the story of how I found myself in the bowels of a strange subterranean tunnel, a tunnel where creatures beyond my comprehension slunk and hunted, skittering monstrosities who would be more at home in a nightmare.
After grabbing a couple coffees to take with us, Sonia drove over to Graysole Farms. Cows stood out in the grassy fields, huddled in tight circles as they repetitively chewed. The thin silhouette of Jack Graysole waited for us next to the herd. He had a face like a raisin, I thought to myself. I watched his thin, shaking body standing in the middle of an overgrown grassy field. Jack stared down blankly at something only he could see. Sonia and I started unloading some equipment from the car while we waited for Phil.
Once we had the backpacks loaded with some simple supplies, such as water, food, headlamps, rope, a couple extra batteries, some buck knives, and radios, we headed over to accompany Jack. We weren’t taking much, as we didn’t really expect to be down there for more than six or seven hours at the most.
Jack Graysole’s withered old face was as slack and expressionless as that of a corpse. He stared down at the ground as if he were in a trance, waving back and forth slowly on his feet like a plant in a light breeze.
“Jack?” Sonia called out as we approached. I could hear the man’s teeth chattering as we got nearer.
“Hey, what are you doing over here this early? You interested in accompanying us down there?” Sonia joked. But Jack might as well have been totally deaf for all the reaction he gave. Sonia glanced over at me with an anxious expression. I wondered if the old man was having a stroke.
I quickly walked over to where he stood, staring down at a black circular hole about three feet across directly in front of his feet. The entrance to Graysole Caverns stared up at us like a sightless pupil. As I drew within a few feet of Jack and looked straight into his blank eyes, I noticed something alarming.
His pupils were quickly dilating and constricting before my eyes. They would shrink to tiny pinpoints, then, a couple seconds later, rapidly expand until they became dark and serious. I could see his thready, rapid heartbeat pulsating in a vein on the side of his temple. Alarmed, I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he came to life, like a man waking up from a nightmare. Shrieking, he looked at me with fully dilated pupils, reminding me of a panicked deer surrounded by wolves. His quavering old man’s voice shook with ineffable existential horror and mortal fear.
He took a step back away from us, seeming to realize where he was and what he was doing. He looked around, confused, then straight at me and Sonia. His eyes focused with anger and fear, as if we were demons here to drag him down to Hell. His eyes flicked back and forth between us constantly. Jack raised a trembling hand and pointed it straight at my heart.
“It’s you,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His teeth chattered despite the warm spring air. His skin looked deathly pale. “You’re the one who will bring an end to humanity, who will release the ruler of nightmares upon us.” He continued to point accusingly for a long moment at me, his face turning chalk-white. Then his eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he stumbled and fell backwards onto the soft grass of the field.
“Jack!” Sonia cried, running over to the old man. Jack’s breaths had started to come in slow, drawn-out gurgles, like a man with a slit throat trying to breathe. Frothy blood bubbled from his lips as they turned blue. Staring up at the endless expanse of cloudless sky, he exhaled one last shuddering breath and died.
***
Phil showed up only a couple minutes later. He found me and Sonia in a state of utter panic, both of us bent double over the still body of Jack. Sonia was on the phone with 911, and I was trying to give Jack chest compressions. The way his fingernails and lips shone with that cyanotic blue cast made me feel sick and weak. I knew it was futile, that I was simply playing with a corpse at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt if I didn’t do something, I might explode.
I heard the faint wailing of sirens approaching as Sonia’s panicked voice continued babbling to the 911 operator. Phil stood by her side, his tall, dark features searching and lost.
“Oh God, I think he’s dead!” Sonia cried over and over to the operator, as if she thought the operator could do anything about it. I didn’t hear what the operator said in response. As the ambulance pulled in, I gave up on chest compressions. I stood up and took a step back, looking sadly down on the kindly old man’s dead body.
The paramedics ran over. Phil, Sonia and I stood back while they worked on the corpse, trying to shock the heart back into life. But Jack’s open eyes stayed glazed as they stared sightlessly up into eternity.
***
The paramedics left. A couple police officers stayed behind to ask us a few routine questions. Eventually, after an hour or so, they left, too.
“What a fucked-up day,” Phil said, shaking his head grimly. “Do you guys still want to do this? Maybe it’s an omen from God telling us to go home.” Sonia and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded at the same time.
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s sad what happened to Jack, but realistically, we don’t know what’s going to happen to this property now that he’s passed away. It might get sold or taken by the bank for all we know. This could be our one and only chance to explore this cave.”
“I don’t believe in omens. I’m still down,” I said, feeling slightly sick from the experience. I still remembered how Jack’s body had cracked under the weight of my chest compressions, how his ribs had snapped like bones shattering in greedy hands. “We’ll do it in memory of Jack. I plan to put this up on YouTube.” I pulled my GoPro out of my bag, turning it on. Phil groaned at that.
“Do we have any idea how far down this cave goes?” Phil asked. I felt a sense of relief now that the topic had changed from the death of the old man.
“I sent a little camera down on a rope, but it only went about a hundred feet,” Sonia responded. “It’s pretty steep at first, then it levels out. I couldn’t really see much after it leveled out, but it looks like it should be easy to climb down. There’s plenty of handholds, lots of jutting rocks.”
Phil put on his headlamp and small pack. As he crawled down into the hole, his tanned face looked up at us and gave us one last devilish grin. Once he had gone down a few dozen feet, Sonia started descending. She looked excited and happy. I noticed how she couldn’t stop smiling as she disappeared from view.
I watched their lights grow smaller and dimmer in the circular tunnel. I marveled at how perfectly circular the entrance was. It almost didn’t even look natural.
Taking a deep breath in, I followed my friends down into the dark.
***
“This isn’t too bad,” I said as I climbed down. The jutting rocks gave plenty of handholds and footholds for us. It wasn’t so tight that it felt like a coffin, either.
“It only gets easier from here!” Sonia called up.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said you’ve never been here before.” She laughed.
“I know. Probably just wishful thinking,” she said. Far below us, Jack’s voice drifted up, faint and weak. He had already reached the bottom.
“The tunnel really opens up down here, guys,” he called. “It’s somewhat… bizarre, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sonia asked. I looked down, seeing Sonia and I would reach the bottom in seconds. “Forget it, I’ll let it be a surprise.” I heard her drop down. Slowly and carefully, I lowered myself down the last few feet. There was a short fall onto a smooth granite floor. I looked up, seeing what Phil and Sonia were so mesmerized by.
“Oh, wow,” I said, speechless. I blinked rapidly, wondering if the image would clear like a mirage. The tunnel was cut into a perfectly triangular shape, each side about seven feet long. The ceiling met in a point above our heads.
All along the smooth walls of gray rock, I saw thousands of black orbs peeking out. They looked similar to obsidian, but they were perfectly smooth and circular, each about the size of an orange. They were formed into interlocking diagonal patterns and followed the tunnel straight down as far as the eye could see.
“What is this place?” Sonia asked, taking a tentative step forward. I looked up, seeing the distant pinpoint of sunlight far above our heads. Our voices continued to echo off down the massive tunnels, disappearing in eerie waves into the thick curtain of shadows.
“Are you recording all this?” Phil asked me. I laughed, giddy.
“Of course! This is internet gold right here,” I said. “No one’s going to believe that this isn’t man-made, however. I can’t even believe it. Do you think Jack was playing a joke on us or something?”
“Jack had the sense of humor of a wet paper towel,” Phil whispered, shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Sonia said, taking a step forward. Her headlamp bobbed up and down rapidly, throwing dancing shadows through the triangular tunnel. It continued straight ahead, without the slightest deviation or curve, disappearing off into a dark point in the distance.
***
We walked as fast as we could, excited to see where, if anywhere, the strange tunnel led. Phil, always the conspiracy theorist, babbled excitedly.
“This has to be aliens, man,” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I bet that scientists will find out this shit is millions of years old when we get back up and tell everyone. Maybe aliens came to earth in ancient times and made a bunch of stuff underground.” Gradually, as we walked, I noticed the tunnel opening up. The pointed triangular ceiling rose up higher above our heads and the walls moved outwards, as we were walking up a triangular funnel. At first, it was so subtle that I didn’t believe it when Sonia pointed it out.
“No, look,” she said, raising her hand above her head. “When we first started down this weird tunnel, my fingers were only maybe a foot away from the top. Now it’s a couple feet.” I was about to respond when our headlamps illuminated something standing in the middle of the tunnel.
“What the fuck is that?” I whispered, stopping cold in my tracks. Phil and Sonia looked up at the abomination at the same time. Its back was to us. It stood nearly as tall as the tunnel, which was now about twenty feet high.
The bottom half looked black and spidery with dozens of long, jointed legs. A bloody, white spine rose out of the mass of legs. Inhumanly long, skeletal arms stretched out in front of it. Its face was pointed away from us, but the back of its head resembled an enormous pointed skull with deep fissures like the cracks of an earthquake running through the bone. The abomination stayed as still as a statue, and for a long moment, I wondered if we were looking at some macabre work of art.
Then, suddenly, one of its insectile legs twitched. A moment later, the other legs started jerking and twisting. There was a sound like bones shattering as it rose up to its full height, turning around to face us.
Its face was like something from a nightmare, melting and reforming constantly like dripping candle wax. I would see a black eye appear on its forehead, then a grinning mouth on its chin, then the features would get sucked back into the folds of melting flesh. After a few moments, two enormous eyes appeared on its face, dark and cold like craters on the surface of the Moon. The mouths and noses disappeared back into the dripping skin, and only the two lidless eyes remained, emanating a cold, reptilian consciousness beyond the ability of my mind to comprehend. I felt terror radiating from its body like freezing waves.
“Free me,” it cried in a gurgling voice that seethed with insanity. It had a shrieking, metallic ringing behind every word that gave it an alien quality. “Free me, and I will give you the waters of eternal life. Within me, I contain the seeds of immortality. Within the nightmares, we live forever, always together, never alone.”
“Who are you?” I asked, terrified. The black reptilian skin of the enormous beast glistened as it knelt down, its massive face drawing near to mine. A sideways mouth burst out of the liquified flesh, showing hundreds of fangs growing like tumors from its white, bloodless gums. The fangs varied in size from only a couple inches to long, sword-like projections that stabbed into the creature’s flesh, causing white blood glittering with rainbows to fall like raindrops all around me.
“I have many names,” it hissed, its thousand voices rising and falling in crashing waves of sound. “I was present at the beginning, when this planet was no more than dead cliffs and endless freezing oceans. Those holy ones who search for us, the ancient ones, call me Niralahoth.”
“How do we free you?” Phil asked, looking terrified. He held Sonia’s hand tightly.
“By letting me into your mind and body,” Niralahoth cried, shaking the cavern. “I was thrown down here, cursed and forgotten. I cannot leave this place of shadows within this body. But in the body of another, my consciousness can be free, and the seeds of new life can spread beyond this prison.”
“There’s no way anyone’s going to do that,” I said, my eyes widening as Niralahoth’s reptilian skull turned towards me in fury. “I mean, you’re asking one of us to give up our individuality, our lives, right?”
“I am asking you to become one with me and gain power undreamt of by mortals,” it cried. “I have within me the fountain of life, the waters that send death away screaming.” I glanced anxiously at Phil and Sonia, wondering if we would have to run.
“The answer is no,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we can’t do that,” Phil said, backing me up. “But, anyways, I think our trip has ended. It’s time to turn around…”
“You will never return,” Niralahoth cried, skittering away from us. “If you will not accept salvation, then you must accept death.” Within seconds, it slunk away from us, backpedaling on its many skittering legs into the shadows.
***
All around us, a rumbling started.
There was a pounding that crashed through the rock tunnel, as if an insane blacksmith were hammering on a massive anvil. The ringing of crashing rock started off slowly, with a few stones smashing down around us with heavy blasts of sound. Within seconds, the cacophony sped up, rising into a constant stream of destruction. The black orbs were spinning in place all up and down the tunnel, their glossy obsidian surfaces flashing with sparks of blue light.
“It’s collapsing!” Phil cried, running back in the direction we came, holding Sonia’s hand as she tried to keep up with him. I could only stare for a long moment, not sure what to do. It seemed that the direction Phil was heading stood closer to total collapse.
“Wait!” I cried, but my voice was drowned out in the destruction all around us. I felt a rock smash into my shoulder, sending me down to my feet. I heard Phil give a scream of pain, then another stone came down and smashed into my forehead. I remember seeing everything spinning around me as the world went black.
***
I awoke to find my headlamp still shining straight up in the dusty tunnel. Large chunks of the tunnel had slid out of place and crashed to the stone floor. The granite chunks that had fallen looked unnaturally smooth, most of them in the shapes of cylinders or cubes and varying in size from that of an egg to that of a small car.
My head throbbed. It felt as if a tight belt of fire were wrapped around my temples. Groaning, I put my fingers up to my forehead. They came away slick with blood.
Slowly, I started pushing myself up on my feet. I was relieved that nothing seemed broken. I had a deep gash running from the center of my scalp down to my left temple and some shallower cuts on my shoulders and back, but I knew none of that was life-threatening.
“Sonia?” I whispered, my voice coming out weak and strained. I reached into my pack and found a bottle of water. I chugged it quickly in one long swallow.
“Phil?” I cried again, this time stronger. I heard a soft weeping nearby. Staggering, I followed the sound.
Sonia was bloody and covered in cuts and scrapes, sitting next to Phil’s prone form. I saw Phil’s right arm pinned under a massive slab of granite. His arm disappeared from the elbow down in a spreading puddle of thick, dark blood.
“Oh God, Max, I think he’s hurt really bad,” she wept. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly in his head, his face pale and bloodless. I looked down the way we had come, seeing the entire tunnel blocked by large slabs of stone, many with strange, black orbs peeking out like the lenses of cameras.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. My phone died after a day, and then we were counting the endless darkness in breaths and tears.
Phil swam in and out of consciousness as his arm putrefied and blackened around the crush site. After a couple days, Sonia and I agreed that something had to be done. We told Phil we would need to amputate his arm. He was half-delirious, but he came back long enough to understand us and nod weakly.
We made a fire with Phil’s pack, trying to find fuel to throw in it to get it roaring. As it grew, I saw one of the black orbs near the flames abruptly ignite, as if it had been covered in gasoline. Blue, almost colorless flames rose from its surface. We started throwing the small black orbs on the fire until it rose high in the air. I sanitized the buck knife with the flames and pulled a rope tourniquet tight around Phil’s arm. He was conscious but seemingly insane, talking to himself more than anyone else.
“How are we going to get the car started without a key?” he gurgled to someone only he could see. “We need to look around. It has to be here somewhere.”
“Phil, can you hear me, bud? We need to fix your arm. We need to get you out of this mess. OK?” I said as comfortingly as I could. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly, but they didn’t meet my own. I sighed and looked over at Sonia.
“Let’s do it,” I said, giving a grim nod.
I pulled the buck knife out, slicing quickly down through the flesh next to the tourniquet. His veins throbbed like fat worms as the blackened, necrotic skin split easily under the blade, releasing a rancid-smelling gas that hissed out of the wound.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to slice all the way through the arm. It felt like I was stuck in that hellish task forever. Phil’s eyes rolled in his head as his skin turned the color of clotted milk.
“God, Jesus, make it stop,” Phil whispered over and over, exhaling ragged, pain-filled breaths. The blood spurted from the blackened, dying tissue all over the dust-covered cavern floor, covering my hands in its warm, slick embrace.
After what was probably only three or four minutes, but felt like hours, I had sliced all the way down to the bone. The infected tissue of his arm spurted great gouts of orange pus mixed with rivulets of blood. The hard part was over.
Standing up, I took my steel-toe sneaker and stomped down on his arm as hard as I could. Phil cried out in a powerful voice, as if all the agony and suffering in the world was contained in that one shriek. The bone snapped under my weight with a sound like a tree branch cracking. A moment later, Phil rolled away from the rock that had pinned me in place for so long. Something alien and spongy was shoved into my face, a mass of destroyed red tissue pulsating in time with a runaway heartbeat. At first, shell-shocked and revolted, my mind couldn’t comprehend that I was looking at the stump of Phil’s mutilated arm. I hardened my heart and forced the giddiness and madness to the back of my mind. The time had come to cauterize the wound.
“Sonia, give it to me,” I said with a tremor in my voice. I reached out a hand towards her, a hand stained with Phil’s blood. It looked as if I were wearing a wet, crimson glove. Sonia only stared blankly at me for a long moment, however. A surge of anger ran up my chest.
“Sonia, toughen the fuck up! He’s going to die if you just sit there!” I swore at her, hearing my deep, angry voice bounce around the caverns. Sonia pulled back, as if she were struck. Inwardly, I cursed having a woman as my only able-bodied companion in this situation. She was a competent enough caver, but what would happen if violence and blood came over us? What would happen if, or more realistically when, we needed to fight?
Grimly, Sonia leaned forward and yanked the burning black orb out of the roaring fire, handing it to me on the end of a buck knife that had just barely pierced its hard, strange exterior. The handle of the knife felt coarse and splintery under my filthy skin. I put it to the spongy stump of Phil’s arm. The stump twitched violently. Phil tried to pull away as black smoke rose from the burning flesh.
There was a smell like bacon sizzling. The searing meat of Phil’s arm blackened and crisped under the heat of the orb, which had become no more than a cylinder of glowing blue embers by this point. I felt simultaneously sick and giddy. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or vomit. I felt like I was on the verge of some kind of madness, that the stress and insanity of the experience had started to shatter my mind.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he appeared to go into a seizure for a few seconds. With a long exhalation of breath, he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness. It’s hard to admit it, even this close to the end, but a small, sick piece of me was jealous of Phil. Most likely, he would be dead soon, maybe within hours, while Sonia and I would slowly starve and dehydrate like animals over a period of weeks. I looked at her lithe body and soft skin, seeing the feminine curves of her hips and chest. She was a beautiful woman. I knew Phil to be a lucky man. At least, before this trip, he was.
I watched her body, wondering if I had what it took to eat her or Phil if I had to. Did I have an iron heart that would allow me to slice into my friends and consume their raw, cold flesh? Perhaps, by that point, it would be hunger and madness driving me forward, and I wouldn’t even hesitate. I shuddered at the very thought.
***
I fell asleep that night, having strange dreams of massive gods with melting faces sitting in judgment in a circle around me. We had very little food or water left. No one knew we were down here. Rescue was not coming.
When I awoke, I found myself alone. Phil had died from his injuries while I slept, the black streaks of septic shock spreading up his arm towards his heart. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the rock ceiling.
“Sonia?” I called out, my heart racing as I sat up. “Where are you?” My headlamp was growing dim. I looked in my pack, realizing I was on the last of my batteries. I saw a silhouette walking out of the darkness, the thin, pale form of Sonia. She was trembling badly.
“I saw them,” she said. “Niralahoth and its priests. The priests aren’t human. They look reptilian with sideways mouths and too many eyes.” She shuddered.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. Her eyes grew distant.
“You know we’re not getting out of here alive,” she said. “Not on our own. I wanted to see what it offered. It says that if we take a piece of its nightmare into us, we will gain the power to leave this place, that it simply wants to see the surface and spread its nightmares there.” I shook my head.
“Insanity,” I muttered. “We’d be better off dead.” Sonia nodded.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responded grimly. I didn’t realize what she meant until the next day, when I woke up and found her hanging next to Phil’s body, her tongue swollen and blue as it poked out of her cyanotic lips. And then I was truly alone.
***
Soon after Sonia committed suicide, the last of the batteries for the headlamp died. I had run out of food and had only a small sip of water left. I don’t know how much time passed in the darkness, starving and raving, following the tunnel by running my hands over the walls. I heard many things skittering in the darkness, and a few times, I heard the demonic voice of Niralahoth as it split and distorted.
“You are on death’s door,” it hissed. “Will you not drink from the fountain of life?” I couldn’t tell where the voice came from in the maddening blackness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I had lost nearly all of my sanity in that pit of shadows by this point. I tried laughing constantly to keep my spirits up, and when that failed, I simply cried.
“I’ll do it,” I wailed. “I’ll do it. Just let me see the sky again. Get me out of here, Niralahoth.” Everything went deathly silent all around me, then a laugh rang out like the grinding of glass.
In front of me, I saw a tornado of fire descending from the ceiling, surrounding the massive, spidery form of Niralahoth. It rose its skeletal arms upwards, as if it were Zeus calling down lightning. In the sudden brightness, I saw the fiery form of snakes slithering and centipedes skittering forwards in that tornado, each massive creature sculpted from flames in the spinning cyclone of energy. Niralahoth reached into the tornado of fire with its sharp points of fingers and plucked something small from it. The fire instantly dissipated. In its hand, I saw a tiny, swirling orb that looked like it contained a firestorm within it.
“The nightmare seed,” Niralahoth gurgled as it skittered forward towards me. I could only stare, open-mouthed and starving. I hadn’t slept for days, it felt like, and everything seemed slow and unreal.
In a blur, its skeletal arm shot out and forced the orb into my mouth. Despite the fire raging within it, it felt freezing cold. As it touched my tongue, it gave off a sensation like frostbite all throughout my mouth. I screamed and tried spitting it out, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. It started liquifying, dripping down my throat.
I felt something cancerous and sick spreading throughout my body, radiating out from my heart and stomach to every inch of it. I tried to scream, but it caught behind my teeth. I fell to my knees, clawing at my face as that insane, alien laugh continued resounding all down the tunnel. I fell unconscious and woke up under a beautiful sky in the fields of Graysole Farms.
***
Soon after, I realized that my life would never be the same. Everywhere I went, I could hear the wailing voice of Niralahoth. Behind the trees, I always saw skittering shadows, creatures with long, spidery legs that stalked me every day and night. I slept with every light in the house turned on, yet when I woke up, they would all be shut off, and I would find myself in darkness, next to something in the bed with far too many legs and a face that dripped like burning wax.
I sold everything I owned and tried to move far away, to give as much distance between myself and those cursed caverns as I could, but the nightmares followed me like a shadow. I realize what a fool I was in those ephemeral moments of madness. Sonia was much wiser than myself; I should have killed myself or died rather than allowing that thing inside of me.
Even now, I can feel it creeping through my heart, spreading through my blood. I feel it trying to crawl its way out of my throat, the thin, black legs peeking out at the back of my esophagus.
I only hope that, when I finally jump and feel my bones shatter against the concrete far below, I will kill whatever is inside of me. For I fear the consequences for the world if it were to escape.
submitted by CIAHerpes to nosleep [link] [comments]
In the caverns under the town of Frost Hollow, I found the meaning of true madness. Ever since I escaped that den of horrors, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is only the feverish delirium of an unhinged mind.
Even now, they wait behind the door to this cheap, bare rented room. They drag their claws over the wood. I hear them hissing in that strange, ancient tongue, the one I first heard in the tombs of rock that had been undisturbed for countless millennia.
***
I had first heard rumors of an unexplored cavern from my friend, an experienced caver named Sonia who had explored caverns all over the world. I had been looking for some excitement in my life, some break from the constant monotony and boredom of simply working and sleeping. I had gone caving quite a few times over the year leading up to the trip, but I was not nearly as experienced and had never explored a supposedly virgin passageway of cavern before.
“How do you know no one’s gone down there?” I asked, curious. We sat across from each other at a local diner, getting some early breakfast before our planned descent. The sunrise was still another half-hour away, the sky flat and dark. We would be joined by Sonia’s husband, Phil, who would meet us there shortly after sunrise. I repressed an urge to yawn, chugging half of the steaming hot coffee in one long swallow. Sonia leaned close to me, her nearly colorless blue eyes reminding me of chunks of ice floating down a muddy stream.
“Phil’s friend just found it randomly,” she whispered before glancing around conspiratorially, as if she feared someone would care enough to eavesdrop on a conversation about a cave. “Well, it’s in the middle of a farm, and Phil’s friend, Jack Graysole, owns the entire property and surrounding woods. Jack says he noticed the cows kept going over to a certain spot in the field when it got really hot during the summertime. They would all gather around this little indentation in the grass. After seeing it a few times, Jack got curious and went to investigate what the cows were doing.
“He found a small hole in the ground, almost entirely covered by weeds and grass. He said he felt a cool breeze constantly blowing out of the hole, a breeze that smelled like burning matches and charred metal. After bringing out some shovels and digging down a couple feet, Jack realized that the hole wasn’t a hole at all, but the beginning of a steep passageway leading deep into the bowels of the earth.”
***
The owner of the land decided to unofficially call the newly-discovered cavern Graysole Caverns. Out of respect for him, this is also the name we all used. This is the story of how I found myself in the bowels of a strange subterranean tunnel, a tunnel where creatures beyond my comprehension slunk and hunted, skittering monstrosities who would be more at home in a nightmare.
After grabbing a couple coffees to take with us, Sonia drove over to Graysole Farms. Cows stood out in the grassy fields, huddled in tight circles as they repetitively chewed. The thin silhouette of Jack Graysole waited for us next to the herd. He had a face like a raisin, I thought to myself. I watched his thin, shaking body standing in the middle of an overgrown grassy field. Jack stared down blankly at something only he could see. Sonia and I started unloading some equipment from the car while we waited for Phil.
Once we had the backpacks loaded with some simple supplies, such as water, food, headlamps, rope, a couple extra batteries, some buck knives, and radios, we headed over to accompany Jack. We weren’t taking much, as we didn’t really expect to be down there for more than six or seven hours at the most.
Jack Graysole’s withered old face was as slack and expressionless as that of a corpse. He stared down at the ground as if he were in a trance, waving back and forth slowly on his feet like a plant in a light breeze.
“Jack?” Sonia called out as we approached. I could hear the man’s teeth chattering as we got nearer.
“Hey, what are you doing over here this early? You interested in accompanying us down there?” Sonia joked. But Jack might as well have been totally deaf for all the reaction he gave. Sonia glanced over at me with an anxious expression. I wondered if the old man was having a stroke.
I quickly walked over to where he stood, staring down at a black circular hole about three feet across directly in front of his feet. The entrance to Graysole Caverns stared up at us like a sightless pupil. As I drew within a few feet of Jack and looked straight into his blank eyes, I noticed something alarming.
His pupils were quickly dilating and constricting before my eyes. They would shrink to tiny pinpoints, then, a couple seconds later, rapidly expand until they became dark and serious. I could see his thready, rapid heartbeat pulsating in a vein on the side of his temple. Alarmed, I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he came to life, like a man waking up from a nightmare. Shrieking, he looked at me with fully dilated pupils, reminding me of a panicked deer surrounded by wolves. His quavering old man’s voice shook with ineffable existential horror and mortal fear.
He took a step back away from us, seeming to realize where he was and what he was doing. He looked around, confused, then straight at me and Sonia. His eyes focused with anger and fear, as if we were demons here to drag him down to Hell. His eyes flicked back and forth between us constantly. Jack raised a trembling hand and pointed it straight at my heart.
“It’s you,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His teeth chattered despite the warm spring air. His skin looked deathly pale. “You’re the one who will bring an end to humanity, who will release the ruler of nightmares upon us.” He continued to point accusingly for a long moment at me, his face turning chalk-white. Then his eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he stumbled and fell backwards onto the soft grass of the field.
“Jack!” Sonia cried, running over to the old man. Jack’s breaths had started to come in slow, drawn-out gurgles, like a man with a slit throat trying to breathe. Frothy blood bubbled from his lips as they turned blue. Staring up at the endless expanse of cloudless sky, he exhaled one last shuddering breath and died.
***
Phil showed up only a couple minutes later. He found me and Sonia in a state of utter panic, both of us bent double over the still body of Jack. Sonia was on the phone with 911, and I was trying to give Jack chest compressions. The way his fingernails and lips shone with that cyanotic blue cast made me feel sick and weak. I knew it was futile, that I was simply playing with a corpse at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt if I didn’t do something, I might explode.
I heard the faint wailing of sirens approaching as Sonia’s panicked voice continued babbling to the 911 operator. Phil stood by her side, his tall, dark features searching and lost.
“Oh God, I think he’s dead!” Sonia cried over and over to the operator, as if she thought the operator could do anything about it. I didn’t hear what the operator said in response. As the ambulance pulled in, I gave up on chest compressions. I stood up and took a step back, looking sadly down on the kindly old man’s dead body.
The paramedics ran over. Phil, Sonia and I stood back while they worked on the corpse, trying to shock the heart back into life. But Jack’s open eyes stayed glazed as they stared sightlessly up into eternity.
***
The paramedics left. A couple police officers stayed behind to ask us a few routine questions. Eventually, after an hour or so, they left, too.
“What a fucked-up day,” Phil said, shaking his head grimly. “Do you guys still want to do this? Maybe it’s an omen from God telling us to go home.” Sonia and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded at the same time.
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s sad what happened to Jack, but realistically, we don’t know what’s going to happen to this property now that he’s passed away. It might get sold or taken by the bank for all we know. This could be our one and only chance to explore this cave.”
“I don’t believe in omens. I’m still down,” I said, feeling slightly sick from the experience. I still remembered how Jack’s body had cracked under the weight of my chest compressions, how his ribs had snapped like bones shattering in greedy hands. “We’ll do it in memory of Jack. I plan to put this up on YouTube.” I pulled my GoPro out of my bag, turning it on. Phil groaned at that.
“Do we have any idea how far down this cave goes?” Phil asked. I felt a sense of relief now that the topic had changed from the death of the old man.
“I sent a little camera down on a rope, but it only went about a hundred feet,” Sonia responded. “It’s pretty steep at first, then it levels out. I couldn’t really see much after it leveled out, but it looks like it should be easy to climb down. There’s plenty of handholds, lots of jutting rocks.”
Phil put on his headlamp and small pack. As he crawled down into the hole, his tanned face looked up at us and gave us one last devilish grin. Once he had gone down a few dozen feet, Sonia started descending. She looked excited and happy. I noticed how she couldn’t stop smiling as she disappeared from view.
I watched their lights grow smaller and dimmer in the circular tunnel. I marveled at how perfectly circular the entrance was. It almost didn’t even look natural.
Taking a deep breath in, I followed my friends down into the dark.
***
“This isn’t too bad,” I said as I climbed down. The jutting rocks gave plenty of handholds and footholds for us. It wasn’t so tight that it felt like a coffin, either.
“It only gets easier from here!” Sonia called up.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said you’ve never been here before.” She laughed.
“I know. Probably just wishful thinking,” she said. Far below us, Jack’s voice drifted up, faint and weak. He had already reached the bottom.
“The tunnel really opens up down here, guys,” he called. “It’s somewhat… bizarre, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sonia asked. I looked down, seeing Sonia and I would reach the bottom in seconds. “Forget it, I’ll let it be a surprise.” I heard her drop down. Slowly and carefully, I lowered myself down the last few feet. There was a short fall onto a smooth granite floor. I looked up, seeing what Phil and Sonia were so mesmerized by.
“Oh, wow,” I said, speechless. I blinked rapidly, wondering if the image would clear like a mirage. The tunnel was cut into a perfectly triangular shape, each side about seven feet long. The ceiling met in a point above our heads.
All along the smooth walls of gray rock, I saw thousands of black orbs peeking out. They looked similar to obsidian, but they were perfectly smooth and circular, each about the size of an orange. They were formed into interlocking diagonal patterns and followed the tunnel straight down as far as the eye could see.
“What is this place?” Sonia asked, taking a tentative step forward. I looked up, seeing the distant pinpoint of sunlight far above our heads. Our voices continued to echo off down the massive tunnels, disappearing in eerie waves into the thick curtain of shadows.
“Are you recording all this?” Phil asked me. I laughed, giddy.
“Of course! This is internet gold right here,” I said. “No one’s going to believe that this isn’t man-made, however. I can’t even believe it. Do you think Jack was playing a joke on us or something?”
“Jack had the sense of humor of a wet paper towel,” Phil whispered, shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Sonia said, taking a step forward. Her headlamp bobbed up and down rapidly, throwing dancing shadows through the triangular tunnel. It continued straight ahead, without the slightest deviation or curve, disappearing off into a dark point in the distance.
***
We walked as fast as we could, excited to see where, if anywhere, the strange tunnel led. Phil, always the conspiracy theorist, babbled excitedly.
“This has to be aliens, man,” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I bet that scientists will find out this shit is millions of years old when we get back up and tell everyone. Maybe aliens came to earth in ancient times and made a bunch of stuff underground.” Gradually, as we walked, I noticed the tunnel opening up. The pointed triangular ceiling rose up higher above our heads and the walls moved outwards, as we were walking up a triangular funnel. At first, it was so subtle that I didn’t believe it when Sonia pointed it out.
“No, look,” she said, raising her hand above her head. “When we first started down this weird tunnel, my fingers were only maybe a foot away from the top. Now it’s a couple feet.” I was about to respond when our headlamps illuminated something standing in the middle of the tunnel.
“What the fuck is that?” I whispered, stopping cold in my tracks. Phil and Sonia looked up at the abomination at the same time. Its back was to us. It stood nearly as tall as the tunnel, which was now about twenty feet high.
The bottom half looked black and spidery with dozens of long, jointed legs. A bloody, white spine rose out of the mass of legs. Inhumanly long, skeletal arms stretched out in front of it. Its face was pointed away from us, but the back of its head resembled an enormous pointed skull with deep fissures like the cracks of an earthquake running through the bone. The abomination stayed as still as a statue, and for a long moment, I wondered if we were looking at some macabre work of art.
Then, suddenly, one of its insectile legs twitched. A moment later, the other legs started jerking and twisting. There was a sound like bones shattering as it rose up to its full height, turning around to face us.
Its face was like something from a nightmare, melting and reforming constantly like dripping candle wax. I would see a black eye appear on its forehead, then a grinning mouth on its chin, then the features would get sucked back into the folds of melting flesh. After a few moments, two enormous eyes appeared on its face, dark and cold like craters on the surface of the Moon. The mouths and noses disappeared back into the dripping skin, and only the two lidless eyes remained, emanating a cold, reptilian consciousness beyond the ability of my mind to comprehend. I felt terror radiating from its body like freezing waves.
“Free me,” it cried in a gurgling voice that seethed with insanity. It had a shrieking, metallic ringing behind every word that gave it an alien quality. “Free me, and I will give you the waters of eternal life. Within me, I contain the seeds of immortality. Within the nightmares, we live forever, always together, never alone.”
“Who are you?” I asked, terrified. The black reptilian skin of the enormous beast glistened as it knelt down, its massive face drawing near to mine. A sideways mouth burst out of the liquified flesh, showing hundreds of fangs growing like tumors from its white, bloodless gums. The fangs varied in size from only a couple inches to long, sword-like projections that stabbed into the creature’s flesh, causing white blood glittering with rainbows to fall like raindrops all around me.
“I have many names,” it hissed, its thousand voices rising and falling in crashing waves of sound. “I was present at the beginning, when this planet was no more than dead cliffs and endless freezing oceans. Those holy ones who search for us, the ancient ones, call me Niralahoth.”
“How do we free you?” Phil asked, looking terrified. He held Sonia’s hand tightly.
“By letting me into your mind and body,” Niralahoth cried, shaking the cavern. “I was thrown down here, cursed and forgotten. I cannot leave this place of shadows within this body. But in the body of another, my consciousness can be free, and the seeds of new life can spread beyond this prison.”
“There’s no way anyone’s going to do that,” I said, my eyes widening as Niralahoth’s reptilian skull turned towards me in fury. “I mean, you’re asking one of us to give up our individuality, our lives, right?”
“I am asking you to become one with me and gain power undreamt of by mortals,” it cried. “I have within me the fountain of life, the waters that send death away screaming.” I glanced anxiously at Phil and Sonia, wondering if we would have to run.
“The answer is no,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we can’t do that,” Phil said, backing me up. “But, anyways, I think our trip has ended. It’s time to turn around…”
“You will never return,” Niralahoth cried, skittering away from us. “If you will not accept salvation, then you must accept death.” Within seconds, it slunk away from us, backpedaling on its many skittering legs into the shadows.
***
All around us, a rumbling started.
There was a pounding that crashed through the rock tunnel, as if an insane blacksmith were hammering on a massive anvil. The ringing of crashing rock started off slowly, with a few stones smashing down around us with heavy blasts of sound. Within seconds, the cacophony sped up, rising into a constant stream of destruction. The black orbs were spinning in place all up and down the tunnel, their glossy obsidian surfaces flashing with sparks of blue light.
“It’s collapsing!” Phil cried, running back in the direction we came, holding Sonia’s hand as she tried to keep up with him. I could only stare for a long moment, not sure what to do. It seemed that the direction Phil was heading stood closer to total collapse.
“Wait!” I cried, but my voice was drowned out in the destruction all around us. I felt a rock smash into my shoulder, sending me down to my feet. I heard Phil give a scream of pain, then another stone came down and smashed into my forehead. I remember seeing everything spinning around me as the world went black.
***
I awoke to find my headlamp still shining straight up in the dusty tunnel. Large chunks of the tunnel had slid out of place and crashed to the stone floor. The granite chunks that had fallen looked unnaturally smooth, most of them in the shapes of cylinders or cubes and varying in size from that of an egg to that of a small car.
My head throbbed. It felt as if a tight belt of fire were wrapped around my temples. Groaning, I put my fingers up to my forehead. They came away slick with blood.
Slowly, I started pushing myself up on my feet. I was relieved that nothing seemed broken. I had a deep gash running from the center of my scalp down to my left temple and some shallower cuts on my shoulders and back, but I knew none of that was life-threatening.
“Sonia?” I whispered, my voice coming out weak and strained. I reached into my pack and found a bottle of water. I chugged it quickly in one long swallow.
“Phil?” I cried again, this time stronger. I heard a soft weeping nearby. Staggering, I followed the sound.
Sonia was bloody and covered in cuts and scrapes, sitting next to Phil’s prone form. I saw Phil’s right arm pinned under a massive slab of granite. His arm disappeared from the elbow down in a spreading puddle of thick, dark blood.
“Oh God, Max, I think he’s hurt really bad,” she wept. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly in his head, his face pale and bloodless. I looked down the way we had come, seeing the entire tunnel blocked by large slabs of stone, many with strange, black orbs peeking out like the lenses of cameras.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. My phone died after a day, and then we were counting the endless darkness in breaths and tears.
Phil swam in and out of consciousness as his arm putrefied and blackened around the crush site. After a couple days, Sonia and I agreed that something had to be done. We told Phil we would need to amputate his arm. He was half-delirious, but he came back long enough to understand us and nod weakly.
We made a fire with Phil’s pack, trying to find fuel to throw in it to get it roaring. As it grew, I saw one of the black orbs near the flames abruptly ignite, as if it had been covered in gasoline. Blue, almost colorless flames rose from its surface. We started throwing the small black orbs on the fire until it rose high in the air. I sanitized the buck knife with the flames and pulled a rope tourniquet tight around Phil’s arm. He was conscious but seemingly insane, talking to himself more than anyone else.
“How are we going to get the car started without a key?” he gurgled to someone only he could see. “We need to look around. It has to be here somewhere.”
“Phil, can you hear me, bud? We need to fix your arm. We need to get you out of this mess. OK?” I said as comfortingly as I could. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly, but they didn’t meet my own. I sighed and looked over at Sonia.
“Let’s do it,” I said, giving a grim nod.
I pulled the buck knife out, slicing quickly down through the flesh next to the tourniquet. His veins throbbed like fat worms as the blackened, necrotic skin split easily under the blade, releasing a rancid-smelling gas that hissed out of the wound.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to slice all the way through the arm. It felt like I was stuck in that hellish task forever. Phil’s eyes rolled in his head as his skin turned the color of clotted milk.
“God, Jesus, make it stop,” Phil whispered over and over, exhaling ragged, pain-filled breaths. The blood spurted from the blackened, dying tissue all over the dust-covered cavern floor, covering my hands in its warm, slick embrace.
After what was probably only three or four minutes, but felt like hours, I had sliced all the way down to the bone. The infected tissue of his arm spurted great gouts of orange pus mixed with rivulets of blood. The hard part was over.
Standing up, I took my steel-toe sneaker and stomped down on his arm as hard as I could. Phil cried out in a powerful voice, as if all the agony and suffering in the world was contained in that one shriek. The bone snapped under my weight with a sound like a tree branch cracking. A moment later, Phil rolled away from the rock that had pinned me in place for so long. Something alien and spongy was shoved into my face, a mass of destroyed red tissue pulsating in time with a runaway heartbeat. At first, shell-shocked and revolted, my mind couldn’t comprehend that I was looking at the stump of Phil’s mutilated arm. I hardened my heart and forced the giddiness and madness to the back of my mind. The time had come to cauterize the wound.
“Sonia, give it to me,” I said with a tremor in my voice. I reached out a hand towards her, a hand stained with Phil’s blood. It looked as if I were wearing a wet, crimson glove. Sonia only stared blankly at me for a long moment, however. A surge of anger ran up my chest.
“Sonia, toughen the fuck up! He’s going to die if you just sit there!” I swore at her, hearing my deep, angry voice bounce around the caverns. Sonia pulled back, as if she were struck. Inwardly, I cursed having a woman as my only able-bodied companion in this situation. She was a competent enough caver, but what would happen if violence and blood came over us? What would happen if, or more realistically when, we needed to fight?
Grimly, Sonia leaned forward and yanked the burning black orb out of the roaring fire, handing it to me on the end of a buck knife that had just barely pierced its hard, strange exterior. The handle of the knife felt coarse and splintery under my filthy skin. I put it to the spongy stump of Phil’s arm. The stump twitched violently. Phil tried to pull away as black smoke rose from the burning flesh.
There was a smell like bacon sizzling. The searing meat of Phil’s arm blackened and crisped under the heat of the orb, which had become no more than a cylinder of glowing blue embers by this point. I felt simultaneously sick and giddy. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or vomit. I felt like I was on the verge of some kind of madness, that the stress and insanity of the experience had started to shatter my mind.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he appeared to go into a seizure for a few seconds. With a long exhalation of breath, he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness. It’s hard to admit it, even this close to the end, but a small, sick piece of me was jealous of Phil. Most likely, he would be dead soon, maybe within hours, while Sonia and I would slowly starve and dehydrate like animals over a period of weeks. I looked at her lithe body and soft skin, seeing the feminine curves of her hips and chest. She was a beautiful woman. I knew Phil to be a lucky man. At least, before this trip, he was.
I watched her body, wondering if I had what it took to eat her or Phil if I had to. Did I have an iron heart that would allow me to slice into my friends and consume their raw, cold flesh? Perhaps, by that point, it would be hunger and madness driving me forward, and I wouldn’t even hesitate. I shuddered at the very thought.
***
I fell asleep that night, having strange dreams of massive gods with melting faces sitting in judgment in a circle around me. We had very little food or water left. No one knew we were down here. Rescue was not coming.
When I awoke, I found myself alone. Phil had died from his injuries while I slept, the black streaks of septic shock spreading up his arm towards his heart. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the rock ceiling.
“Sonia?” I called out, my heart racing as I sat up. “Where are you?” My headlamp was growing dim. I looked in my pack, realizing I was on the last of my batteries. I saw a silhouette walking out of the darkness, the thin, pale form of Sonia. She was trembling badly.
“I saw them,” she said. “Niralahoth and its priests. The priests aren’t human. They look reptilian with sideways mouths and too many eyes.” She shuddered.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. Her eyes grew distant.
“You know we’re not getting out of here alive,” she said. “Not on our own. I wanted to see what it offered. It says that if we take a piece of its nightmare into us, we will gain the power to leave this place, that it simply wants to see the surface and spread its nightmares there.” I shook my head.
“Insanity,” I muttered. “We’d be better off dead.” Sonia nodded.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responded grimly. I didn’t realize what she meant until the next day, when I woke up and found her hanging next to Phil’s body, her tongue swollen and blue as it poked out of her cyanotic lips. And then I was truly alone.
***
Soon after Sonia committed suicide, the last of the batteries for the headlamp died. I had run out of food and had only a small sip of water left. I don’t know how much time passed in the darkness, starving and raving, following the tunnel by running my hands over the walls. I heard many things skittering in the darkness, and a few times, I heard the demonic voice of Niralahoth as it split and distorted.
“You are on death’s door,” it hissed. “Will you not drink from the fountain of life?” I couldn’t tell where the voice came from in the maddening blackness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I had lost nearly all of my sanity in that pit of shadows by this point. I tried laughing constantly to keep my spirits up, and when that failed, I simply cried.
“I’ll do it,” I wailed. “I’ll do it. Just let me see the sky again. Get me out of here, Niralahoth.” Everything went deathly silent all around me, then a laugh rang out like the grinding of glass.
In front of me, I saw a tornado of fire descending from the ceiling, surrounding the massive, spidery form of Niralahoth. It rose its skeletal arms upwards, as if it were Zeus calling down lightning. In the sudden brightness, I saw the fiery form of snakes slithering and centipedes skittering forwards in that tornado, each massive creature sculpted from flames in the spinning cyclone of energy. Niralahoth reached into the tornado of fire with its sharp points of fingers and plucked something small from it. The fire instantly dissipated. In its hand, I saw a tiny, swirling orb that looked like it contained a firestorm within it.
“The nightmare seed,” Niralahoth gurgled as it skittered forward towards me. I could only stare, open-mouthed and starving. I hadn’t slept for days, it felt like, and everything seemed slow and unreal.
In a blur, its skeletal arm shot out and forced the orb into my mouth. Despite the fire raging within it, it felt freezing cold. As it touched my tongue, it gave off a sensation like frostbite all throughout my mouth. I screamed and tried spitting it out, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. It started liquifying, dripping down my throat.
I felt something cancerous and sick spreading throughout my body, radiating out from my heart and stomach to every inch of it. I tried to scream, but it caught behind my teeth. I fell to my knees, clawing at my face as that insane, alien laugh continued resounding all down the tunnel. I fell unconscious and woke up under a beautiful sky in the fields of Graysole Farms.
***
Soon after, I realized that my life would never be the same. Everywhere I went, I could hear the wailing voice of Niralahoth. Behind the trees, I always saw skittering shadows, creatures with long, spidery legs that stalked me every day and night. I slept with every light in the house turned on, yet when I woke up, they would all be shut off, and I would find myself in darkness, next to something in the bed with far too many legs and a face that dripped like burning wax.
I sold everything I owned and tried to move far away, to give as much distance between myself and those cursed caverns as I could, but the nightmares followed me like a shadow. I realize what a fool I was in those ephemeral moments of madness. Sonia was much wiser than myself; I should have killed myself or died rather than allowing that thing inside of me.
Even now, I can feel it creeping through my heart, spreading through my blood. I feel it trying to crawl its way out of my throat, the thin, black legs peeking out at the back of my esophagus.
I only hope that, when I finally jump and feel my bones shatter against the concrete far below, I will kill whatever is inside of me. For I fear the consequences for the world if it were to escape.
2024.05.21 17:44 Amphy2332 I made my sister a purple pikmin
 | I've been getting into amigurumi the last couple months after finally learning magic circles, and my sister asked me if I would make her a purple pikmin. Easily the biggest and most difficult piece I've made so far! submitted by Amphy2332 to NintendoStitch [link] [comments] I largely used the pattern by ami_amour , but as that pattern makes standard small pikmin I modified a bit here and there. The body is bernat blanket, the flower is chenille, and the eye whites and berry are made from tshirt yarn. My major nitpick for myself is that the legs are a little far apart; I had them set differently and should've pinned them instead of estimating. But otherwise I'm pretty pleased with this guy! |
2024.05.21 17:43 BlueFishcake Sexy Steampunk Babes: Chapter Twenty Seven
William was just about to scoop another mouthful of porridge and berries into his mouth when someone scooted into the seat next to him.
“Marline.” He inclined his head before returning to breakfast.
A breakfast that, prior to his teammate’s arrival, had been blissfully free of noise or interruption.
Which made sense given that the ‘rise and shine’ bell wasn’t going to ring for another thirty minutes or so. To that end, the cafeteria was near empty, but for a few servants flitting around the place as they set tables or partook of their own breakfasts.
Breakfasts that were something of a step down from what was normally served at these tables, given that the usual heaped piles of hot sausages, crisp bacon and hearty eggs were still being prepared in the kitchens.
Still, on this occasion, that was fine by William. Sure, the main reason he’d told his team to rise a little earlier than normal was to allow them to dine in peace without being harassed by the rest of the rumour hungry student body, but it was also useful in that it somewhat limited some of his more… difficult teammate’s breakfast options.
“William,” the dark elf hissed as she leaned down. “We have a problem.”
Despite his early morning lethargy, those words managed to send something akin to a shiver up his spine.
“What!? What’s the problem?” he asked as he whirled around, remembering only at the last minute to keep his voice down.
Sure, the cafeteria was relatively empty of both staff and students, but it hadn’t escaped his notice that pretty much all of them had had their eyes on him since he sat down.
“What do you mean, ‘what’s the problem?’” Marline whispered furiously into his ear. “The fucking alchemy lab blew up last night.”
“Oh, that.” She’d gotten him all worked up for nothing. “Someone’s enchantment probably went awry after being kept in storage too long.”
That was a lie and they both knew it. He’d explained to Marline in great detail why trying to gain access to his storage room was a poor idea without him present. To that end, it was obvious that someone had attempted just that.
As such, the old alchemy building was now a smouldering ruin, with dozens of academy guards and at least one member of the palace guard sifting through the rubble when he walked past.
Or at least, they’d been watching over a dozen menial servants as they sifted through the rubble.
Still, no one had been too alarmed by it. It was hardly the first time the building had been destroyed after all.
Alchemy was by its nature a fairly dangerous art.
A form of homeopathic magic that attempted to imbue objects with magical abilities by combining them with conceptually similar items, it tended to both be prohibitively expensive and notoriously unreliable.
Left eyes from forty-year-old salamanders didn’t grow on trees after all. Nor testicles from albino bulls in heat. And that was the kind of specificity one needed to create a half-decent stamina potion.
There was a reason that alchemy was gradually being phased out in favour of the slower but more reliable art of enchanting.
“Yes, very unfortunate,” Marline said through gritted teeth. “But what about ‘our’ ingredients that were being kept in the building. It might be… dangerous of someone stumbled across them in the rubble.”
Dangerous? Gunpower couldn’t explode more than…
“Oh, you’re talking about the gift we were holding for your family?” He realized.
“Yes!”
“Why didn’t you check last night?” he asked.
“...I tend to wear earplugs when I sleep,” Marline admitted reluctantly. “Given… Verity.”
William glanced towards the young woman’s long elven ears and thought about their orcish teammate’s tendency to snore like she was trying to wake the dead. The inner walls of their dorm weren’t particularly thick and Marline’s room was right next to the other girl’s.
Yeah, he could see why she might have invested in some hearing protection.
A decent set of earplugs wouldn’t drown out the noise of the morning bell, but they’d be more than capable of drowning out the distant whumph of an alchemy lab going up on the opposite side of the campus.
He momentarily wondered if the noise had caused any of his other teammates to get up, before dismissing the idea.
Strange noises in the middle of the night were far from unusual in a military academy and usually best ignored unless you had a very good reason to think they might involve you.
“Well, it’s not a problem,” he whispered. “I moved it last night before heading back to the dorm.”
The look of relief on the dark elf’s face was palpable, before it gave way to confusion. “Why?”
He shrugged. “For the same reason I booby-trapped the storage room in the first place. Once it got out that I had a mithril core – and might have had something to do with Al’Hundra’s death, well it seemed like there was a decent chance someone might go snooping around places I might want to hide something.”
And the alchemy lab was just about the first place someone would think of right after their team’s dorm room.
Fortunately for him, there were a few places that were quite impractical for hiding something long-term, but pretty ideal in the short term.
And just so long as Marline’s aunts arrived before next Welday, the mithril core would be safe.
Though as he gazed down at the bowl of porridge in front of him, he found his appetite wasn’t quite what it had been just a few moments ago.
“So where’d you hide it?” Marline asked excitedly, clearly relieved that her family’s future wasn’t currently buried in rubble.
William paused as he considered how to answer that question. Something his teammate was quick to notice.
“William,” she prompted. “Where’s my family’s core?”
He gazed down at his bowl, still thinking.
“William!” she shouted as best she could while still whispering.
“The safest place I could think of. Somewhere it’d be covered completely and no one would voluntarily look.”
“Voluntarily?” Marline said. “Covered?”
Credit where credit was due, no one had ever accused his teammate of being slow on the uptake. At least, where politics wasn’t concerned. So it was that it wasn’t long before he witnessed her expression morph from confusion to horror… to rage.
“You buried my family’s mithril core in the latrines?!” she hissed.
William scratched his chin awkwardly as he avoided her furious gaze. “More like dropped. I didn’t need to bury it because it sank on its own. Which is good given I wasn’t quite sure of the relative buoyancy of mithril in… well… you know.”
In his defence, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Indeed, if one were to be purely objective about the whole thing, it still was. The core was safely hidden at the bottom of one of the lesser used latrine pits. The bottom mounted… storage vats of which were pulled out and emptied into the bay once a week.
It was a fairly old fashioned system, given the existence of indoor plumbing across the rest of the academy. Indeed, he suspected the latrines were only kept around to serve as a form of punishment duty for any cadets that happened to royally piss off their instructors.
“They’ll be safe there until Welday,” William argued weakly. “At which point your aunts can collect them without anyone being the wiser.”
“Collect them from the latrine’s storage vats!” Marline hissed, slamming her head into the table. “Ancestors, the future of our house is now literally swimming in shit.”
Gingerly, William moved to pat the dark elf on the back. “Ah, but at least it’s safe.”
Once more he glanced away as two silver eyes peeked out angrily from between the girl’s arms.
Needless to say, he was rather glad for the eventual arrival of the rest of their team – even if Bonnlyn chose to complain at length about the fact that she was going to be forced to dine on ‘twigs and berries’ – as opposed to the gut busting pile of vaguely food shaped grease she normally chose to partake of in a morning.
Still, at least Marline had stopped glaring at him by the time they’d all finished eating – escaping just before the first of their fellow cadets piled noisily into the cafeteria.
It was actually rather amusing, that for all that the coming match had obvious implications for the country as a whole, in theory it was simply another practice match between two groups of cadets.
To that end, there was no great ceremony as the members of Team Seven made their way through the double doors leading to the Floats. There, as per usual, stood the members of the opposing team along with an Instructor from a ‘neutral’ house.
Never mind that the great bleachers to each side of the faux-ships were filled with eager spectators when they were normally all-but bare. Or that not one of the viewing orbs bolted to the gantries overhead was bereft of the ambient glow that signified they were in use.
Half the noble houses in the country were likely watching the events that were about to unfold through those crystalline orbs. Though William had to wonder if the Queen was one of them or if she was present in person, simply hidden behind whatever magic she used to render herself and her guards invisible.
Still, as he gazed upon the spectacle around them, William couldn’t help but be reminded of just how impressive a construction the Floats were, the stadium sized building hosting not just the ships that made up the field, but room for spectators, viewing orbs, staff and a myriad other smaller facilities that each worked to allow the practice matches to occur.
With that in mind, one notable absence from the building’s usual occupants was hard to miss.
“Where are all the sailors and marines?” Olzenya asked.
“I don’t know,” William said as they continued walking towards Tala and her team. “Maybe they’re already onboard?”
He doubted it though. He’d have been able to see people moving about inside the great vessels or marching across the deck.
No, something was amiss here.
Still, he’d known there was a possibility of House Blackstone attempting something. And the absence of the Float’s usual staff was likely to be related.
Nothing for it now, he thought. Whatever they’ve done can’t be too overt.
The Principal of the Academy might have been in New Haven’s pocket – which made her an ally of House Blackstone – but even her power had limits with the Crown and half the country watching.
“Ma’am,” William said as he came to a stop before the Instructor from House Summerfield. “Team Seven reporting.”
Instructor Halfin, ironically the woman who’d first introduced his team to the floats glowered at him.
“I don’t like this,” she said without preamble, her voice raised loudly enough that it was clear she was aiming her words not just at him, but Tala and the rest of the world besides. “The Academy and the Floats are supposed to be a training environment for the future leadership of the nation as a whole. Not a pissing ground for idiotic adolescents.”
“I didn’t choose the venue, ma’am.” Even as she spoke, Tala’s gaze stayed on William.
“And I didn’t ask your opinion, cadet.” Halfin’s words were biting as she turned towards the third-year. “The only opinion that matters here is mine. Not yours. Not his. Not your mummy’s. And not the rest of these upjumped cretins.”
Her hand flew out to encompass the veritable circus that were the stands. “So, with that in mind you can believe me when I say that my only concern is getting through this farce as efficiently and as fairly as possible. I don’t give a shit about what’s on the line or who doesn’t want to marry who. All that matters to me is whether or not you have wax or paint on your breastplate or enough harpy-venom in your system to put you down for the count.”
Both Tala’s and William’s eyes widened a little at that.
“Wax, ma’am? Paint?” Tala said.
The older woman grunted. “You heard me, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter. Let it be known I’m not happy about it. Nor about the fact that half the sailors on base have apparently come down with the shits.”
Ah, so that was why the float’s usual crew was missing. Clearly the work of House Blackstone, though to what end William was yet unsure.
Are they trying to delay the match? He thought.
That wouldn’t be ideal for a number of reasons – most of which centred around it giving House Blackstone more time to sabotage him and his team. There’d been a damn good reason he chose to have their match literally a day after he challenged her.
“This has naturally affected my ability to run a normal Float match. Normally that would be grounds for delaying this whole farce,” Halfin continued, tone darkening as she spoke the next few words. “But it has been ‘suggested’ to me by a number of parties that doing so would be impractical. So, we shall instead be making use of one of the scenarios available to us that does not require the use of regular crewmembers.”
She gestured towards the area between the two faux ships, the football field sized stretch of land normally empty but for a few overhead nets designed to catch falling cadets.
That wasn’t the case today. Instead, the area had been filled with a tangled mess of pre-fabricated structures and various other bits of paraphernalia.
“Airship down,” the Instructor said, and after a moment’s observation, William realized that the stretch of land really did look like what you might have seen if an airship crashed into it.
Assuming said airship crashed with enough force to scatter its component parts around rather than remain as a fairly battered single object. Which, given the heights said ships could drop from, wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
“Our third year cadets will be familiar with this scenario, but I will explain it briefly for our first years.” Again, there was no mistaking just how unhappy Halfin was with all of this. “In short, an allied or enemy airship has crashed in neutral territory. Both sides of the conflict have dispatched a mage strike team to search the wreckage for the ship’s core so as to deny it to the enemy. Unfortunately, neither side can effectively search said wreckage until the other strike team has been completely eliminated.”
Halfin’s gaze turned towards his team. “To clarify, do not let the flavor text of this scenario fool you. There is no core within the wreckage in this scenario. The only way to win is to completely eliminate the opposing team.”
Over the woman’s shoulder, William didn’t miss the small smile that flitted across his fiancee’s features.
Ah, so that’s her game, he thought.
Oh, he didn’t doubt she would have preferred this whole engagement be delayed so as to allow her more time to stack the deck, but on short notice simply changing the scenario to this still helped her.
Theoretically.
It reduced the number of ‘wild card’ factors that might benefit him or his team. No crew members. No orbs to collect. Just a straight up fight between the two teams.
Sure, said wild cards could have just as easily worked in Tala’s favour, but given the skill disparity between the two groups, it benefited her to reduce the number of random vectors present in the coming fight.
Plus, it also had his team attempting to navigate an unfamiliar scenario.
Well played, he thought.
“Any issue with that, cadets?” Halfin said as she finished her explanation.
“None at all,” William said before the rest of his team could interrupt, noting the small pout of disappointment that flitted across Tala’s face.
She’d probably wanted him to kick up a fuss and force the match to be delayed for the reasons he’d thought of before.
Alas, she wasn’t that lucky.
No, for better or for worse this was happening here and now.
Sure, it wasn’t an ideal scenario, but he could make it work for him. It simply required him to pull out another trick that he’d been hoping to hold onto for just a little while longer.
Amusingly, Halfin also looked a little disappointed. The woman had probably wanted the match delayed on principle. It was clear both his new weapon and Tala’s interference rubbed her the wrong way.
Though as he had the thought, he was pleasantly surprised to see there was at least one woman in the academy who placed her duty as an educator and impartial judge above politics.
Indeed, if she had a reputation for such, that was likely part of the reason why she’d been selected for this match as a compromise between the Crown and the Blackstones.
“Well, if that’s all, then you’ve got ten minutes to check out your weapons and get to your starting positions.” Halfin grunted, before she seemed to remember something. “And I suppose I’ll take possession of the ‘bet’ now.”
There was no missing the disdain in the woman’s voice, which actually made William feel a bit better as he gestured over to Verity.
Unslinging the backpack she’d carried all the way over, the girl still looked more than a little awed as she unveiled the glowing metal orb. It was actually a little amusing, the mixture of relief and reluctance that crossed her features as she handed it over to the Instructor.
An instructor who was apparently not entirely carved from stone, as she somewhat reverently accepted the object.
Even the distant stands hushed down a bit as the bowling ball sized core changed hands.
Of course, it was barely a second before the moment was interrupted.
“Of course you’d have the orc carry it,” Tala grunted, her tone resigned.
Verity flinched back at the words and every other member of his team – including Olzenya leaned forward to argue – but William forestalled them all with a simple raised hand.
“Of course I did,” he said simply. “She’s a valuable member of my team and I trust her. Far more than certain other individuals present.”
A core could also be deceptively heavy despite its ability to produce lighter than air aether and he had no real desire to carry it all the way across campus. It also went unsaid that Verity was best equipped to intercept any… opportunistic thieves.
Indeed, he’d have paid to see some enterprising moron attempt to wrestle the bag holding the core off his orcish teammate on the walk over here.
It hadn’t happened of course, the possibility had always been an outlier at best, but given the stakes it had seemed better to err on the side of caution.
…It had also been amusing to see the myriad emotions that had flashed across the faces of most of the team when he quite casually tossed the bag holding the core to the orc. One would almost think he’d just thrown a baby at her.
Indeed, the only one who’d not been affected had been Marline, who’d just looked quietly resigned.
Which was still fun in its own way.
It was a little childish perhaps coming from a man ‘his age’, but that same age was what gave him the experience to know that sometimes life was about being a little silly and enjoying the small things.
And what better silly fun was there than teasing a bunch of far too serious kids by throwing around a basically indestructible ball of magical space metal?
Of course, given the flash of irritation that shot across Tala’s face, it was clear she thought his smile was an accompaniment to his taunt.
However, before she could say anything, Halfin scooped up the core. “Well, I’ll be holding onto this until the match is over. At which point I shall hand it to whomever I deem to be the victor.” For just a moment, her expression softened. “You can rest assured, both of you, that I shan’t let it out of my sight or off my person for the duration of the match. This I swear – even if I’m irritated at this whole situation.”
William and Tala both nodded, accepting the solemness of the woman’s impromptu oath.
“Alright,” she said, slinging the thing under her arm as she returned to her previous acerbic personality. “You’ve got ten minutes to collect your weapons and be at your designated spots for the beginning of the match. Anyone not in the correct place at the correct time will be considered eliminated for the purposes of this match. Dismissed.”
With her bit said, she strode away, no doubt up to the judges tower - which had an eagle’s eye view of the entire arena.
Leaving two teams of rather combative cadets behind.
Ten minutes was more than enough time to collect their gear, so William allowed himself a few seconds to simply gaze at Tala’s team.
“Finally realizing how outclassed you are, William?” Tala sneered.
It was funny, normally that kind of open disdain was beneath her. Sure, she’d yelled at him before, but to his mind that was more of an expression of frustration than animosity.
Here and now though?
She hated him.
And he revelled in it.
Not because he hated her. He didn’t. Even if they were enemies. At worst he’d say he pitied her for her ignorance and worldview.
Much like him and his otherworldly views, she was a product of her environment.
She wasn’t evil. At least not in an intentional sense. Indeed, by the standards of this world she was actually a good person.
Loyal. Dutiful. Hardworking.
Simply in service to an institution that he abhorred.
With that in mind, the reason why he relished in her disdain was simple.
It meant that he was now worthy of it in her mind. No longer an irritating non-factor that refused to play along, his actions now had consequences.
He’d earned her animosity honestly.
He was a factor. A person.
It felt good.
“Just counting the numbers,” he said. “Some part of me wondered if you might be a team member or two short.”
Indeed, the fact that he’d hoped for the murder of a young man or woman last night was something he counted amongst the least of his sins. There’d be a great many more of those to come.
Still, ignorant of his thoughts, the girl stiffened, all but confirming his suspicions as her mind no doubt turned towards last night’s explosion.
It had been her people who’d tried to raid his alchemy storage room – though it seemed she’d not been so foolish as to send anyone on her team to accomplish the job. In all likelihood the unfortunate fools who’d run afoul of his trap had likely been little more than paid off servants or some other kind of catspaw.
Irrelevant in the scheme of things ultimately and chosen for that very reason. Unfortunate, but hoping that his enemy would be a teammate or two down had ever been a long shot.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Tala said. “My teammates are all ready and eager to serve not only me, but to honour their family names as well through that service. Though I know that’s a concept most alien to you.”
Around her, four other members of the girls team stood up a little straight, animosity burning in their gaze as they silently regarded his team with disdain.
Disdain his own team was quite happy to level back – if only out of loyalty to him.
Still, it was funny; Tala was more right than she knew. The values of this world were in many ways alien to him despite having lived here for nearly two decades.
“I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled. “To that end, I’ll see you in the arena.”
He took a moment to enjoy the look of puzzlement on his foe’s face at his placid rejoinder, before he strode away, his team falling in behind him.
Though as he walked, he made sure to turn to each of them. “Make sure to double check all of our equipment. If Tala was able to give half the Float staff food poisoning last night, I wouldn’t put it past her to be able to tamper with our equipment.”
Each of the girls nodded seriously at his words, no doubt leery of discovering a razor blade or some other such implement in one of their boots. Or that their bolt-bow had a faulty intake valve.
Indeed, the only piece of equipment William could theoretically have been sure of was that which he was currently wearing and the spell-bolts that would have been delivered clandestinely at the last minute by either Griffith or a palace guard.
And even then, what the fuck is this about wax and paint rather than rubber? He thought.
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“Marline.” He inclined his head before returning to breakfast.
A breakfast that, prior to his teammate’s arrival, had been blissfully free of noise or interruption.
Which made sense given that the ‘rise and shine’ bell wasn’t going to ring for another thirty minutes or so. To that end, the cafeteria was near empty, but for a few servants flitting around the place as they set tables or partook of their own breakfasts.
Breakfasts that were something of a step down from what was normally served at these tables, given that the usual heaped piles of hot sausages, crisp bacon and hearty eggs were still being prepared in the kitchens.
Still, on this occasion, that was fine by William. Sure, the main reason he’d told his team to rise a little earlier than normal was to allow them to dine in peace without being harassed by the rest of the rumour hungry student body, but it was also useful in that it somewhat limited some of his more… difficult teammate’s breakfast options.
“William,” the dark elf hissed as she leaned down. “We have a problem.”
Despite his early morning lethargy, those words managed to send something akin to a shiver up his spine.
“What!? What’s the problem?” he asked as he whirled around, remembering only at the last minute to keep his voice down.
Sure, the cafeteria was relatively empty of both staff and students, but it hadn’t escaped his notice that pretty much all of them had had their eyes on him since he sat down.
“What do you mean, ‘what’s the problem?’” Marline whispered furiously into his ear. “The fucking alchemy lab blew up last night.”
“Oh, that.” She’d gotten him all worked up for nothing. “Someone’s enchantment probably went awry after being kept in storage too long.”
That was a lie and they both knew it. He’d explained to Marline in great detail why trying to gain access to his storage room was a poor idea without him present. To that end, it was obvious that someone had attempted just that.
As such, the old alchemy building was now a smouldering ruin, with dozens of academy guards and at least one member of the palace guard sifting through the rubble when he walked past.
Or at least, they’d been watching over a dozen menial servants as they sifted through the rubble.
Still, no one had been too alarmed by it. It was hardly the first time the building had been destroyed after all.
Alchemy was by its nature a fairly dangerous art.
A form of homeopathic magic that attempted to imbue objects with magical abilities by combining them with conceptually similar items, it tended to both be prohibitively expensive and notoriously unreliable.
Left eyes from forty-year-old salamanders didn’t grow on trees after all. Nor testicles from albino bulls in heat. And that was the kind of specificity one needed to create a half-decent stamina potion.
There was a reason that alchemy was gradually being phased out in favour of the slower but more reliable art of enchanting.
“Yes, very unfortunate,” Marline said through gritted teeth. “But what about ‘our’ ingredients that were being kept in the building. It might be… dangerous of someone stumbled across them in the rubble.”
Dangerous? Gunpower couldn’t explode more than…
“Oh, you’re talking about the gift we were holding for your family?” He realized.
“Yes!”
“Why didn’t you check last night?” he asked.
“...I tend to wear earplugs when I sleep,” Marline admitted reluctantly. “Given… Verity.”
William glanced towards the young woman’s long elven ears and thought about their orcish teammate’s tendency to snore like she was trying to wake the dead. The inner walls of their dorm weren’t particularly thick and Marline’s room was right next to the other girl’s.
Yeah, he could see why she might have invested in some hearing protection.
A decent set of earplugs wouldn’t drown out the noise of the morning bell, but they’d be more than capable of drowning out the distant whumph of an alchemy lab going up on the opposite side of the campus.
He momentarily wondered if the noise had caused any of his other teammates to get up, before dismissing the idea.
Strange noises in the middle of the night were far from unusual in a military academy and usually best ignored unless you had a very good reason to think they might involve you.
“Well, it’s not a problem,” he whispered. “I moved it last night before heading back to the dorm.”
The look of relief on the dark elf’s face was palpable, before it gave way to confusion. “Why?”
He shrugged. “For the same reason I booby-trapped the storage room in the first place. Once it got out that I had a mithril core – and might have had something to do with Al’Hundra’s death, well it seemed like there was a decent chance someone might go snooping around places I might want to hide something.”
And the alchemy lab was just about the first place someone would think of right after their team’s dorm room.
Fortunately for him, there were a few places that were quite impractical for hiding something long-term, but pretty ideal in the short term.
And just so long as Marline’s aunts arrived before next Welday, the mithril core would be safe.
Though as he gazed down at the bowl of porridge in front of him, he found his appetite wasn’t quite what it had been just a few moments ago.
“So where’d you hide it?” Marline asked excitedly, clearly relieved that her family’s future wasn’t currently buried in rubble.
William paused as he considered how to answer that question. Something his teammate was quick to notice.
“William,” she prompted. “Where’s my family’s core?”
He gazed down at his bowl, still thinking.
“William!” she shouted as best she could while still whispering.
“The safest place I could think of. Somewhere it’d be covered completely and no one would voluntarily look.”
“Voluntarily?” Marline said. “Covered?”
Credit where credit was due, no one had ever accused his teammate of being slow on the uptake. At least, where politics wasn’t concerned. So it was that it wasn’t long before he witnessed her expression morph from confusion to horror… to rage.
“You buried my family’s mithril core in the latrines?!” she hissed.
William scratched his chin awkwardly as he avoided her furious gaze. “More like dropped. I didn’t need to bury it because it sank on its own. Which is good given I wasn’t quite sure of the relative buoyancy of mithril in… well… you know.”
In his defence, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Indeed, if one were to be purely objective about the whole thing, it still was. The core was safely hidden at the bottom of one of the lesser used latrine pits. The bottom mounted… storage vats of which were pulled out and emptied into the bay once a week.
It was a fairly old fashioned system, given the existence of indoor plumbing across the rest of the academy. Indeed, he suspected the latrines were only kept around to serve as a form of punishment duty for any cadets that happened to royally piss off their instructors.
“They’ll be safe there until Welday,” William argued weakly. “At which point your aunts can collect them without anyone being the wiser.”
“Collect them from the latrine’s storage vats!” Marline hissed, slamming her head into the table. “Ancestors, the future of our house is now literally swimming in shit.”
Gingerly, William moved to pat the dark elf on the back. “Ah, but at least it’s safe.”
Once more he glanced away as two silver eyes peeked out angrily from between the girl’s arms.
Needless to say, he was rather glad for the eventual arrival of the rest of their team – even if Bonnlyn chose to complain at length about the fact that she was going to be forced to dine on ‘twigs and berries’ – as opposed to the gut busting pile of vaguely food shaped grease she normally chose to partake of in a morning.
Still, at least Marline had stopped glaring at him by the time they’d all finished eating – escaping just before the first of their fellow cadets piled noisily into the cafeteria.
It was actually rather amusing, that for all that the coming match had obvious implications for the country as a whole, in theory it was simply another practice match between two groups of cadets.
To that end, there was no great ceremony as the members of Team Seven made their way through the double doors leading to the Floats. There, as per usual, stood the members of the opposing team along with an Instructor from a ‘neutral’ house.
Never mind that the great bleachers to each side of the faux-ships were filled with eager spectators when they were normally all-but bare. Or that not one of the viewing orbs bolted to the gantries overhead was bereft of the ambient glow that signified they were in use.
Half the noble houses in the country were likely watching the events that were about to unfold through those crystalline orbs. Though William had to wonder if the Queen was one of them or if she was present in person, simply hidden behind whatever magic she used to render herself and her guards invisible.
Still, as he gazed upon the spectacle around them, William couldn’t help but be reminded of just how impressive a construction the Floats were, the stadium sized building hosting not just the ships that made up the field, but room for spectators, viewing orbs, staff and a myriad other smaller facilities that each worked to allow the practice matches to occur.
With that in mind, one notable absence from the building’s usual occupants was hard to miss.
“Where are all the sailors and marines?” Olzenya asked.
“I don’t know,” William said as they continued walking towards Tala and her team. “Maybe they’re already onboard?”
He doubted it though. He’d have been able to see people moving about inside the great vessels or marching across the deck.
No, something was amiss here.
Still, he’d known there was a possibility of House Blackstone attempting something. And the absence of the Float’s usual staff was likely to be related.
Nothing for it now, he thought. Whatever they’ve done can’t be too overt.
The Principal of the Academy might have been in New Haven’s pocket – which made her an ally of House Blackstone – but even her power had limits with the Crown and half the country watching.
“Ma’am,” William said as he came to a stop before the Instructor from House Summerfield. “Team Seven reporting.”
Instructor Halfin, ironically the woman who’d first introduced his team to the floats glowered at him.
“I don’t like this,” she said without preamble, her voice raised loudly enough that it was clear she was aiming her words not just at him, but Tala and the rest of the world besides. “The Academy and the Floats are supposed to be a training environment for the future leadership of the nation as a whole. Not a pissing ground for idiotic adolescents.”
“I didn’t choose the venue, ma’am.” Even as she spoke, Tala’s gaze stayed on William.
“And I didn’t ask your opinion, cadet.” Halfin’s words were biting as she turned towards the third-year. “The only opinion that matters here is mine. Not yours. Not his. Not your mummy’s. And not the rest of these upjumped cretins.”
Her hand flew out to encompass the veritable circus that were the stands. “So, with that in mind you can believe me when I say that my only concern is getting through this farce as efficiently and as fairly as possible. I don’t give a shit about what’s on the line or who doesn’t want to marry who. All that matters to me is whether or not you have wax or paint on your breastplate or enough harpy-venom in your system to put you down for the count.”
Both Tala’s and William’s eyes widened a little at that.
“Wax, ma’am? Paint?” Tala said.
The older woman grunted. “You heard me, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter. Let it be known I’m not happy about it. Nor about the fact that half the sailors on base have apparently come down with the shits.”
Ah, so that was why the float’s usual crew was missing. Clearly the work of House Blackstone, though to what end William was yet unsure.
Are they trying to delay the match? He thought.
That wouldn’t be ideal for a number of reasons – most of which centred around it giving House Blackstone more time to sabotage him and his team. There’d been a damn good reason he chose to have their match literally a day after he challenged her.
“This has naturally affected my ability to run a normal Float match. Normally that would be grounds for delaying this whole farce,” Halfin continued, tone darkening as she spoke the next few words. “But it has been ‘suggested’ to me by a number of parties that doing so would be impractical. So, we shall instead be making use of one of the scenarios available to us that does not require the use of regular crewmembers.”
She gestured towards the area between the two faux ships, the football field sized stretch of land normally empty but for a few overhead nets designed to catch falling cadets.
That wasn’t the case today. Instead, the area had been filled with a tangled mess of pre-fabricated structures and various other bits of paraphernalia.
“Airship down,” the Instructor said, and after a moment’s observation, William realized that the stretch of land really did look like what you might have seen if an airship crashed into it.
Assuming said airship crashed with enough force to scatter its component parts around rather than remain as a fairly battered single object. Which, given the heights said ships could drop from, wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
“Our third year cadets will be familiar with this scenario, but I will explain it briefly for our first years.” Again, there was no mistaking just how unhappy Halfin was with all of this. “In short, an allied or enemy airship has crashed in neutral territory. Both sides of the conflict have dispatched a mage strike team to search the wreckage for the ship’s core so as to deny it to the enemy. Unfortunately, neither side can effectively search said wreckage until the other strike team has been completely eliminated.”
Halfin’s gaze turned towards his team. “To clarify, do not let the flavor text of this scenario fool you. There is no core within the wreckage in this scenario. The only way to win is to completely eliminate the opposing team.”
Over the woman’s shoulder, William didn’t miss the small smile that flitted across his fiancee’s features.
Ah, so that’s her game, he thought.
Oh, he didn’t doubt she would have preferred this whole engagement be delayed so as to allow her more time to stack the deck, but on short notice simply changing the scenario to this still helped her.
Theoretically.
It reduced the number of ‘wild card’ factors that might benefit him or his team. No crew members. No orbs to collect. Just a straight up fight between the two teams.
Sure, said wild cards could have just as easily worked in Tala’s favour, but given the skill disparity between the two groups, it benefited her to reduce the number of random vectors present in the coming fight.
Plus, it also had his team attempting to navigate an unfamiliar scenario.
Well played, he thought.
“Any issue with that, cadets?” Halfin said as she finished her explanation.
“None at all,” William said before the rest of his team could interrupt, noting the small pout of disappointment that flitted across Tala’s face.
She’d probably wanted him to kick up a fuss and force the match to be delayed for the reasons he’d thought of before.
Alas, she wasn’t that lucky.
No, for better or for worse this was happening here and now.
Sure, it wasn’t an ideal scenario, but he could make it work for him. It simply required him to pull out another trick that he’d been hoping to hold onto for just a little while longer.
Amusingly, Halfin also looked a little disappointed. The woman had probably wanted the match delayed on principle. It was clear both his new weapon and Tala’s interference rubbed her the wrong way.
Though as he had the thought, he was pleasantly surprised to see there was at least one woman in the academy who placed her duty as an educator and impartial judge above politics.
Indeed, if she had a reputation for such, that was likely part of the reason why she’d been selected for this match as a compromise between the Crown and the Blackstones.
“Well, if that’s all, then you’ve got ten minutes to check out your weapons and get to your starting positions.” Halfin grunted, before she seemed to remember something. “And I suppose I’ll take possession of the ‘bet’ now.”
There was no missing the disdain in the woman’s voice, which actually made William feel a bit better as he gestured over to Verity.
Unslinging the backpack she’d carried all the way over, the girl still looked more than a little awed as she unveiled the glowing metal orb. It was actually a little amusing, the mixture of relief and reluctance that crossed her features as she handed it over to the Instructor.
An instructor who was apparently not entirely carved from stone, as she somewhat reverently accepted the object.
Even the distant stands hushed down a bit as the bowling ball sized core changed hands.
Of course, it was barely a second before the moment was interrupted.
“Of course you’d have the orc carry it,” Tala grunted, her tone resigned.
Verity flinched back at the words and every other member of his team – including Olzenya leaned forward to argue – but William forestalled them all with a simple raised hand.
“Of course I did,” he said simply. “She’s a valuable member of my team and I trust her. Far more than certain other individuals present.”
A core could also be deceptively heavy despite its ability to produce lighter than air aether and he had no real desire to carry it all the way across campus. It also went unsaid that Verity was best equipped to intercept any… opportunistic thieves.
Indeed, he’d have paid to see some enterprising moron attempt to wrestle the bag holding the core off his orcish teammate on the walk over here.
It hadn’t happened of course, the possibility had always been an outlier at best, but given the stakes it had seemed better to err on the side of caution.
…It had also been amusing to see the myriad emotions that had flashed across the faces of most of the team when he quite casually tossed the bag holding the core to the orc. One would almost think he’d just thrown a baby at her.
Indeed, the only one who’d not been affected had been Marline, who’d just looked quietly resigned.
Which was still fun in its own way.
It was a little childish perhaps coming from a man ‘his age’, but that same age was what gave him the experience to know that sometimes life was about being a little silly and enjoying the small things.
And what better silly fun was there than teasing a bunch of far too serious kids by throwing around a basically indestructible ball of magical space metal?
Of course, given the flash of irritation that shot across Tala’s face, it was clear she thought his smile was an accompaniment to his taunt.
However, before she could say anything, Halfin scooped up the core. “Well, I’ll be holding onto this until the match is over. At which point I shall hand it to whomever I deem to be the victor.” For just a moment, her expression softened. “You can rest assured, both of you, that I shan’t let it out of my sight or off my person for the duration of the match. This I swear – even if I’m irritated at this whole situation.”
William and Tala both nodded, accepting the solemness of the woman’s impromptu oath.
“Alright,” she said, slinging the thing under her arm as she returned to her previous acerbic personality. “You’ve got ten minutes to collect your weapons and be at your designated spots for the beginning of the match. Anyone not in the correct place at the correct time will be considered eliminated for the purposes of this match. Dismissed.”
With her bit said, she strode away, no doubt up to the judges tower - which had an eagle’s eye view of the entire arena.
Leaving two teams of rather combative cadets behind.
Ten minutes was more than enough time to collect their gear, so William allowed himself a few seconds to simply gaze at Tala’s team.
“Finally realizing how outclassed you are, William?” Tala sneered.
It was funny, normally that kind of open disdain was beneath her. Sure, she’d yelled at him before, but to his mind that was more of an expression of frustration than animosity.
Here and now though?
She hated him.
And he revelled in it.
Not because he hated her. He didn’t. Even if they were enemies. At worst he’d say he pitied her for her ignorance and worldview.
Much like him and his otherworldly views, she was a product of her environment.
She wasn’t evil. At least not in an intentional sense. Indeed, by the standards of this world she was actually a good person.
Loyal. Dutiful. Hardworking.
Simply in service to an institution that he abhorred.
With that in mind, the reason why he relished in her disdain was simple.
It meant that he was now worthy of it in her mind. No longer an irritating non-factor that refused to play along, his actions now had consequences.
He’d earned her animosity honestly.
He was a factor. A person.
It felt good.
“Just counting the numbers,” he said. “Some part of me wondered if you might be a team member or two short.”
Indeed, the fact that he’d hoped for the murder of a young man or woman last night was something he counted amongst the least of his sins. There’d be a great many more of those to come.
Still, ignorant of his thoughts, the girl stiffened, all but confirming his suspicions as her mind no doubt turned towards last night’s explosion.
It had been her people who’d tried to raid his alchemy storage room – though it seemed she’d not been so foolish as to send anyone on her team to accomplish the job. In all likelihood the unfortunate fools who’d run afoul of his trap had likely been little more than paid off servants or some other kind of catspaw.
Irrelevant in the scheme of things ultimately and chosen for that very reason. Unfortunate, but hoping that his enemy would be a teammate or two down had ever been a long shot.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Tala said. “My teammates are all ready and eager to serve not only me, but to honour their family names as well through that service. Though I know that’s a concept most alien to you.”
Around her, four other members of the girls team stood up a little straight, animosity burning in their gaze as they silently regarded his team with disdain.
Disdain his own team was quite happy to level back – if only out of loyalty to him.
Still, it was funny; Tala was more right than she knew. The values of this world were in many ways alien to him despite having lived here for nearly two decades.
“I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled. “To that end, I’ll see you in the arena.”
He took a moment to enjoy the look of puzzlement on his foe’s face at his placid rejoinder, before he strode away, his team falling in behind him.
Though as he walked, he made sure to turn to each of them. “Make sure to double check all of our equipment. If Tala was able to give half the Float staff food poisoning last night, I wouldn’t put it past her to be able to tamper with our equipment.”
Each of the girls nodded seriously at his words, no doubt leery of discovering a razor blade or some other such implement in one of their boots. Or that their bolt-bow had a faulty intake valve.
Indeed, the only piece of equipment William could theoretically have been sure of was that which he was currently wearing and the spell-bolts that would have been delivered clandestinely at the last minute by either Griffith or a palace guard.
And even then, what the fuck is this about wax and paint rather than rubber? He thought.
Another three chapters are also available on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/bluefishcake
We also have a (surprisingly) active Discord where and I and a few other authors like to hang out: https://discord.gg/RctHFucHaq
2024.05.21 17:18 Choice_Matter_4687 Prince of Pillows
 | The boy likes to sleep on the pillows. submitted by Choice_Matter_4687 to AustralianShepherd [link] [comments] So much so if I leave, that is how I’ll find him. He doesn’t mind sitting on top of my yawn when I try to crochet even if it’s inconvenient for me—hims the sweetest boy and I love him more than life itself and just wanted to share. Please feel free to share your sleepy babies here too 🥹 |
2024.05.21 17:00 battlefield Battlefield Briefing – Future Strike
 | Future Strike* continues to outline the global battle for scarce resources in Battlefield™ 2042. With the Mandate of Nations, this new time-limited event introduces a new alliance tied to the world of 2142. Under the global assault of the Thousand Petals Coalition, this faction symbolizes a beacon of hope for the shattered EU forces as Joint Task Force 7 homages the initial seven nations who make up the fledgling union. Most recently, this strike team was tasked with the capture and securing of Arkangel weather stations, ensuring it would not fall into Coalition hands. submitted by battlefield to battlefield2042 [link] [comments] View our Trailer Here: https://youtu.be/0EPmqdm8l40 Future Strike is part of the ongoing Season 7: Turning Point, and will be available for free to all players from May 28, to June 10, 2024. https://preview.redd.it/8c99l7r0or1d1.jpg?width=3840&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=913afe4158ecd659e0f9d7e6888e684488f6fe6c Squad vs Squad, every soldier countsIn Future Strike you will experience close quarters, 4v4 or 8v8 action, that focuses on the intense squad play, where teamwork and individual skill are required to secure victory for your team.When a soldier is downed, they enter a “down but not out” state where they can still crawl and be revived. But, if they die in this downed state redeploy as an OV-P Recon Drone and spectate their squad, providing crucial information to their teammates to secure victory. Once the next round starts, all squad members are active again until they are downed or the round ends. Each round has a low time limit of 90 seconds. Each decision you and your squad make will impact your success. Every third round is a Shock Round where all players use the same locked loadout, selected from a list our developers have curated to put your adaptation skills to the test. Additionally, squads are restricted to only one Specialist in the squad and teams can see the opponent’s composition. This will allow you to strategically pick your characters to try and counter the opposition. The objective for each round of Strike Team is to capture the objective or completely eliminate the enemy team, which will win you a round. The first squad to win 6 rounds earns the victory! Strike Team is available on:
Your Tactics and Skills Determine the Outcome in Strike TeamRead the Room: To win, you'll need to analyze and anticipate the patterns of your enemies. With 6 rounds to win, you'll have plenty of time to learn your opponent as well as your teammates. If your squad’s tactic is to reach the objective quickly, set up a flank to blindside the enemy when they try to fight your teammates head-on. If your teammates are more aggressive flankers, fortify the objective with a well-placed Dozer or Irish pick. Every decision matters.https://preview.redd.it/m676mfvior1d1.jpg?width=3072&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=9719a5de02bfadd05d9de8a374670ace09a540ad A new Objective: Watch the objective and watch the progress made, as both teams must perform a surgical strike to capture our tightest objective points to date. Capturing will also give away your position, so watch your back. https://preview.redd.it/blnlntcmor1d1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=cfde6832683098ca55be75da5e067e6ac456e326 Counterpick: Surprise the enemy with gadgets and character picks that counter their own. The element of surprise can work in your favor if your strategy stagnates, even with a single player's influence. Certain specialists can also exploit or be emboldened by the different levels available in Strike Team, find your strengths and play to them. https://preview.redd.it/1685qa6por1d1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=3184d553a849ca4dfdf8425434ad60348c23a210 Swarm them with Drones: The information economy is crucial to Strike Team. Redeploy as the OV-P Recon Drone on death and share vital information with your team. Empower your teammates with tactical pings and harass enemies with your drone to give your surviving teammates the upper hand. New Gear Arriving with Future StrikePlaying during the Future Strike event will net you new items that are also available for purchase. Earn ribbons by playing Strike Team and unlock rewards for your stash! Remember, items that are part of the event and can be earned via ribbons can also be purchased separately in our bundles.Earnable items (reduces bundle price when earned, marked with ^ in the purchasable bundles below): Strength in Unity - Rare Tag L5 Winzig - Epic Weapon Charm Talon Type-1 - Epic RAH-68 HuronSkin United Stand - Epic Rao Skin https://preview.redd.it/yhwdx7avor1d1.jpg?width=3840&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=57e660a3d032424856b06f421c72694aff3f458a https://preview.redd.it/oc3rziawor1d1.jpg?width=3840&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=22f63a1e738d24084213dfc6813f91e1647e951a https://preview.redd.it/10nyzt0xor1d1.jpg?width=3840&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4f552e1153ac61678e63718e292460614672323a Store bundles
You and your squad need to succeed, we’re counting on you! Don’t forget to check out the community calendar for upcoming events in Battlefield 2042! PTFO and make every decision count! // The Battlefield team *Requires Battlefield 2042 (sold separately) and all game updates to play. NO WEAPON, MILITARY VEHICLE OR GEAR MANUFACTURER IS AFFILIATED WITH OR HAS SPONSORED OR ENDORSED THIS GAME. This announcement may change as we listen to community feedback and continue developing and evolving our Live Service & Content. We will always strive to keep our community as informed as possible. |
2024.05.21 16:59 karenvideoeditor The Zoo [Part 2]
Previous
So, if you’re just joining us, I work at a haunted zoo now. Since I’ve gotten some rest, it feels like I’ve got my head on straight, at least, so I’d like to continue where I left off.
I sat on the floor in the office after meeting the ghost until I’d settled my rattled mind (and realized I’d forgotten to ask her name, how rude is that?). I took a deep breath and got up off the floor. Walking over and falling into the rolling chair in front of the large screen of camera views, when I brought up the camera that covered the area in which I’d spotted her, she was still there, and it seemed she hadn’t moved an inch.
Sitting there, at a loss, I continued to watch her. The ghost hung around for another five minutes or so, appearing to look at a few things off-screen, though I’m not sure what. Then she walked off into the forest and left the view of the cameras. I wasn’t sure if she vanished into the ether or if she’d gone looking into the trees to look for something.
But that wasn’t the end of the job interview, so let me jump back there. It continued into what kind of animals the zoo had, with Andrew asking me how much experience I had with dangerous animals.
I took a moment to consider the question. “So, ah…I’ve been going hunting and fishing with a neighbor since I was sixteen,” I told him. “We always have to keep an eye out for gators, bears, and hogs. Then there’s snakes, of course…snapping turtles… Since I’ve lived here my whole life and been aiming for a job with wildlife for a long time, I know a lot about the animals in Arkansas in general. But good advice for all of the above is avoid them, so I’ve had encounters, but I don’t know if you’d say I have experience with them.”
“That’s fine,” Andrew said, nodding. “That’s an answer I’m satisfied with. Now, the ghost was the appetizer, Ripley; here’s the main course. To start with, the pay isn’t twenty-five an hour. It’s fifty.”
Staring in shock for a moment, I asked, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. But that’d be weird to post online considering what applicants think we need, so I halved it.”
“That’s… Okay, why?”
“The animals are already here. You just can’t see them.”
I stared at him for a long moment, some disbelief worming its way into my expression, before saying, “Sorry, what?”
“There’s a chance you’d naturally never see them, or at least some of them,” he continued casually. “It depends on both your genetics and how long you stay on the job. I can naturally see six of them, but that’s it. Suzanne can see all of them, and more. Some are what people would label demons or ghosts. Or magic. Mostly you’d call them cryptids. The ghost was just a warm-up; I mentioned her first because it never takes more than a week to see her if you work the night shift. If you manage to handle her okay, soon you’ll be able to see the animals too. The more time you spend on the grounds, for weird reasons,” he said, wiggling his fingers in the direction of the back door, “the more you’ll be able to see.”
“So, this…this is a zoo for cryptids,” I echoed slowly. He nodded once, waiting to find out what kind of reaction I would have. I gestured vaguely around the room. “If this is a hidden camera show, will you cut me a check for showing up and participating?”
Andrew coughed out a chuckle and shook his head. “No joke. There are a ton of stories out there that have been written to death, pulverized until they’re not the Grimm stories of old and instead they’re Disney films. A lot of those stories come from what some humans have seen. There are dozens of other worlds pressed up against ours, and occasionally things come through by accident. If they’re smart, they’ll lay low and then make their way back when they can. If not, they become local folklore until someone helps them back. I’m just from London, but Suzanne is from somewhere else. She hires people like us for this zoo. Humans.”
Sighing, I shook my head. “That makes no sense. Why would she hire a muggle for a magic zoo?”
Andrew burst out laughing at that, and then waited to gather himself before he continued. “Fair point, but this is less about magic and more about animals, and you’re missing some information that will explain it. First of all, if I misjudge an employee, and they think they can make bank by outing the endangered and valuable animals we have, it’s easy to relocate the zoo.”
“Because magic?” I asked.
“Exactly,” he replied, ignoring the thread of skepticism in my tone. “That means it isn’t the end of the world if that happened, though it is a pain in the arse. But second…let me ask you a question. Speaking of reality shows, say the Discovery Channel put out a call to replace Steve Irwin when he passed. Imagine they had a line out the door,” he said with a gesture, “of people who thought they had the skill and natural talent to replace him, to take on everything he’d been doing his whole life. How many do you reckon would lose an arm, a leg, or their life, by the end of the day?”
My lips parted in surprise and I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re saying people from…wherever…they’re just as dumb as humans, but they’re worse, because they actually think they can handle these things.”
Andrew pointed the pen at me. “Things. Exactly. You called them things. Suzanne and her friends grew up with them and would call them animals. These animals have dispositions and temperaments that we’ve studied for as long as there have been scientists. Where Suzanne’s from, they know the weaknesses of these animals, and also they’re in enclosures here, even if you and I can’t see the walls because they’re invisible things called ‘wards’. If I hire someone who’s got magic on top of all that, they’ll have almost no instinctive fear.
“Everything here is nocturnal, and every one of them is a hunter. Some of these things? Humans see them and they pass out. Not that I want you passing out, but I need someone who is scared of these things, who knows to stay out of the enclosures no matter what. Not someone who thinks they can train them to do tricks, who gets close enough for them to grab a mouthful of hair and drown them. Once, we had a night shift manager injured, and once killed, because they didn’t take these animals seriously enough.”
Thinking back to the Sea World orca incident I knew he’d been referencing, I remembered wondering how someone at that level of her profession could be so careless as I watched the video on YouTube. It made sense when he explained it like that. I hesitated before mentally throwing my hands up and going all in. “So, why put this place here, then? If they’re endangered and also dangerous, why have a zoo at all instead of just a small reserve?”
He pursed his lips, looking disappointed in me. “Ripley. You know that already. You already said as much.”
Thinking back through our conversation, I said, “The rich humans who pay top dollar to see supernatural animals.”
“Not humans,” he told me. “But people, yes, and they are rich, and they’re making donations and spending their money on a ticket here because everything we have is endangered.”
“So…”
I just let my voice trail off and my mind started to drift. Andrew remained silent, letting me do so. There’s that thing people say, ‘I believe that you believe it,’ which is just a kinder way of saying, ‘Bullshit.’ Parents say it about closet monsters. Psychologists say it to people who say they’ve been abducted and probed by aliens. I wanted to say it to Andrew.
But I also wanted a job. If it meant working overnight at an empty zoo, that was fine. When it came down to it, especially when I took the tone of our conversation into account, this was a zoo specifically focused on preserving endangered ‘animals’, and it was allegedly doing important work. Also, if this turned out to be the real deal and I started seeing the animals, I would deal with it, just like I would deal with an enclosure that had a lion or tiger or gorilla. If it came with a ghost and invisible creatures, I really didn’t see what the difference was, if I couldn’t go in the enclosures either way.
On that note, I’d like you to imagine a kid who looks at a roller coaster, watching everyone screaming and grinning as they go up and down and all around and they’re like, ‘Heck, I could do that! That looks like a blast!’
Then they get on, the first drop hits, and they realize they’ve made a terrible mistake.
“All right,” I sighed. “I can’t say I’m going to turn down a job just because it’s going to be scary. Especially not one with this paycheck.”
Andrew smiled. “Awesome. There’s an adjustment process for anyone working here, similar to a dog that gets adopted, actually. I know the general guidelines of, ‘three days, three weeks, three months’ in terms of milestones, until they finally feel they’re where they’re supposed to be,” he told me, “and you can think of your time here along those lines. I really think you’re a great fit, and once you reach the milestone of working here for three months, I’ll officially consider you our new night shift guard. And I hope you’ll stay with us for many years.”
I nodded and smiled at the flattery of an employer wanting me to work a great job for them for a long time. I’d never had a dog, but those milestones were well-known among anyone who knew animals, especially dogs. The first three days, the dog is getting to know its new digs, exploring, and decompressing. At three weeks, they’ve gotten used to their environment and are starting to get comfortable with their surroundings and the routines of the humans they live with. By three months, they know the rules and follow them, they trust you, and they feel they are where they’re meant to be. I could only hope to be so lucky.
I saw the ghost two days ago and she has yet to make another appearance (for those who are curious, I asked, and her name is Leila), and I still hadn’t seen any animals. I did hear one, though, I feel compelled to note. A growling roar sounded from the lake on occasion, echoing across the vast zoo, sending a shiver down my spine. Whatever that animal was, it sounded gigantic.
Andrew said there was apparently a group that wanted to visit for a birthday and they were offering a huge donation, so he let me know they were making an exception and that this group would be walking through the park that night. That meant I’d be watching people watching animals that, as far as I could tell, weren’t there.
It was anticlimactic. Even the three people who came for the tour just looked like people, not like aliens or something eldritch from another dimension, and I stayed in the security office the whole time. Andrew was the one giving the tour. I watched them spend about five minutes at each enclosure, the hour or so that they were there passing without incident. It was clear that they were able to see all the animals, though, since they motioned excitedly at each enclosure and spoke to Andrew, who presumably answered any questions they had.
If they could see the animals, that was that. There was still that niggle in the back of my head, from my twenty-three years of life never encountering anything like ghosts or cryptids, telling me that this was ridiculous. Waiting for someone to knock on the door, a camera mounted on their shoulder, to tell me that it was a big joke and they wanted to see how long I’d play along. But from all I saw, this was a real place with real, invisible animals.
I do carry a taser and pepper spray in my capacity as a security guard. Though it isn’t for the animals, since they’re in the enclosures; they’re actually for the rare instance of a break-in. Andrew mentioned that it had happened several times it the past, someone trying to steal an animal in the hopes of selling it on the black market. They’d been successful before, but apparently my predecessor Roger was good at his job, and mostly they left in handcuffs.
I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge fan of confrontation, but my job was to call Andrew and then confront the person, not kick their ass. That’s what the police were for, or rather, the people Andrew would call in lieu of police in certain situations.
Fifty bucks an hour. That’s the key here.
Andrew hadn’t set up direct deposit, since he was sticking with a strategy of waiting to see if I’d continue to work there once I found out myself dealing with the animals (I’ve decided I am going to just call them animals). Instead, I got an old-fashioned check after my shift every Friday. The number on the first check was delightful. I went out that evening and had a big dinner at the local diner, order my most expensive favorites on the menu and a big slice of pie for dessert.
When it came to the paychecks in general, though, I had this weird feeling of not wanting to tell my dad and brother about the fact that it was actually $50/hr. I previously mentioned that my dad, his name’s Nathan if you’re curious, works at a local grocery store. Our town has a couple food franchises, but I think its size is just short of whatever threshold Walmart uses to decide where to open. He earns $14/hr. and that’s after the tiny raises he’s gotten over the past thirteen years.
That’s not to say he’d feel bad about not making as much as me. On the contrary, he would be ecstatic for me and really proud. But, like me, he’d be suspicious. That hourly rate was the biggest hint that this was more than just a private zoo for cryptids. And as soon as that fat check cleared without problems, my dad wouldn’t be satisfied with reassurances; he’d want to come visit the zoo and look around.
I’d told him it’s a private preservation with scheduled (expensive) visits only and that it had only eleven animals, so he’d been appeased by me brushing off the idea of a visit. Also, I took a few photos of my workplace; one of the security room, one of me sitting in my chair, one photo of the many screens I watched, and a selfie where I was feigning sleep out of boredom, slouched in my chair with my mouth open in a faux snore. That let him feel like he knew where I was and what I was doing, and that I was safe.
But if I told him I was making double what he thought, my father would practically order me to quit. No job was worth my safety, he’d tell me. I was quite of the opposite opinion, however, considering how crucial any and all conservation efforts were these days. Especially with the steep extinction levels due to humans competing with other animals for space, not to mention climate change. Working in any job that helped preserve species and keep ecosystems in balance, or put them back in balance, was so important.
Then again, my father would also point out something I had realized right away: the fact was that I was working with endangered species that were not from Earth. I wasn’t helping my planet. To be honest, though…that didn’t matter to me. Especially after that talk with Andrew about why he hired a human for this job, I figured whichever dimension these animals came from had the equivalent of us, razing forests to the ground, clouding the planet with pollution, and leaving the animals with no avenue of recourse when yet more land was taken from them.
I really do hope to keep working here for a long time, though, and not just because of the money. I can’t help it; I want to know what these things were, and I want to work with them, to do the job of a zookeeper. The same way you go up to the chain-link fence to get close to a carnivore on the other side who thinks you’d make a nice afternoon snack. You just want to be closer to them, to experience that incredible, daunting feeling of being in their presence.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before I got what I wanted.
The day after we had the tour go through, I was doing my sweep when I saw the ghost again. She was sitting on a small boulder in the same area I’d seen her the first time, looking identical, blood covering the front of her slashed shirt, the wounds visible underneath. I stopped and stood there for a moment before I decided to raise my hand in a small wave.
The young woman cocked her head at me and raised a hand in the air in an imitation of my gesture, her expression showing a bit of curiosity.
She was low-key, seemingly not concerned with my presence, looking at me as a novel phenomenon in her world. I wondered what that world consisted of. Was she always here, sometimes visible and sometimes not? Or did she have another world next to ours, in the ether, where she left everything in this world behind and floated in her disembodied form? Did she still feel emotions? Was that really curiosity on her face, or was I projecting? Did she feel happiness? Fear? Did she have the option of moving on, or was she stuck here?
Many questions that I might never get the answers to. And that was assuming Andrew knew the answers, since I’d never met Suzanne Cooper and he hadn’t even mentioned that possibility. This place was clearly her baby, but I’m sure running it was a lot of work. Plus, if she was rich enough to own it, she was rich enough to have other businesses and charities to run.
When it comes to the enclosures, they’re all wrapped by a barrier of some kind, though never one that seems adequate. There was not a single place with the ugly metal weavings of a chain-link fence, and no stretches of circular razor wire. Instead, there are nice fences. Black iron, or wrought steel fencing in a similar style to the one circling the perimeter of the zoo, just shorter and with different patterns. Or a spaced picket fence, the wood stained in some tone of brown, or a split two-rail fence. As if to say, ‘This is the border of your enclosure, but we’re just letting you know out of courtesy.’
When I started to pass enclosure number seven last night, a young woman’s voice spoke, “Hello.”
I startled, unaware that I hadn’t been alone. “Oh. Hi,” I said, staring at her standing a few yards in.
She had been next to a large tree and I hadn’t seen her. This enclosure was behind a picket fence, and she walked through the large area of wild grasses and flowers that stretched across the other side of the fence. There were fewer tall grasses closer to the fence, which I guessed was because it had been tromped down by her regular pacing along it when there were visitors, or if she wanted to see the various enclosures of the zoo. Her sudden appearance was a bit weird, considering I had been expecting to see a cryptid and instead I was looking at, it seemed, an attractive Asian woman.
She wore a black kimono, the soft silk robe draped gently over her body, with beautiful patterns of cherry blossoms, more so over her left side, and red and blue birds with their wings spread. A sash wrapped around her abdomen, she wore socks and sandals on her feet, and her hair was up in those rolls that gave volume to the style.
I was no expert on any fashion, much less that of another country, so I just assumed it was all traditional Japanese clothing. Most likely, the visitors who came liked to see a certain time-honored style and that’s what she stuck with. Or maybe she played on stereotypes. That would be amusing.
“I’m Yui. It’s nice to meet you,” she spoke, arriving at the border of the fence and holding out a hand for me to shake.
I’d been standing about three yards away from her, and I’ll be honest, muscle memory tried to kick in. But I only made it two steps, my hand starting to rise, before I froze, the hand falling limply at my side. “Nice to meet you, too,” I answered, my voice quiet.
Damn. I wonder how many times that honey trap works back where she comes from.
The pleasant look on her face faded, and she lowered her hand. “You won’t shake hands with me? Isn’t that rude?”
“I mean, I kind of like my hand where it is. You know, attached to me.”
Her demure smile widened into something more amused. “I would never do something so revolting.”
Looking her up and down, as if more visual information would give me more knowledge of what she was, I asked her, “What would you do?”
“I would be less wasteful,” she said softly.
A finger of ice trailed down my spine, and I had the sudden image in my head of her grabbing my outstretched hand in an iron grip and yanking me over the fence, leaving me to sprawl on the ground. Then killing and consuming me efficiently, without a single careless step, the same way humans slaughtered pigs, using everything from the hog but the squeal. I was struck with a shiver at the idea of her consuming everything from me but my screams.
Slowly, I took one step further down the path, then another. Just as I got to a walking pace, though, I realized the woman had started walking too, in the same direction. I’d have eventually gotten to the end of her enclosure and keep going, leaving her behind, but she spoke up. “Are you leaving?”
I came to a stop, meeting her gaze again. “My job is to walk the zoo every hour. Then I’ll get back to the security room and stay there until my next walk.”
“Have you met the others yet?”
I hesitated before saying, “Just Leila.”
She blinked languidly. “That means nobody welcomed you here.”
“Andrew did.”
She didn’t reply to that. Instead, she slowly started to lean forward, and I flinched backward a few steps further as I saw insect legs start curling out from her back.
No. Not insect. Arachnid.
The eight legs ended in small ‘paws’ with tiny claws, a layer of hairs covering the leg from top to bottom, like any typical tarantula. I took two more slow steps back and my mouth went dry as the jointed legs just kept lengthening, until they were large enough to lever her off the ground.
My gaze had been on the spider legs, but my heart skipped a beat as I realized her human legs had melded together and turned into a bulging abdomen. Her skin was shifting to a carapace, eventually all the way up to her shoulders and down her arms, her fingers elongating and her nails stretching to claws. From there down, her body was that of a pale tarantula with pedipalps the size of my arms and piercing fangs in her jaws that looked like they could take my head off.
There was a moment, my vision blurring, where I was worried that I might piss myself. The part of my brain that still had its humor intact in that moment told me that I should keep an emergency set of clothes in my car, or at the very least, start wearing Depends to work.
“I show you my true form,” she said softly, her voice now raspy like an eighty-year-old after a lifelong smoking habit. “Welcome to Suzanne Cooper’s zoo. The night shift guard for many years was Roger, before he retired and the zoo moved, and I miss him dearly. What should I call you?”
I choked on my words. There was no way my throat was going to cooperate enough for me to clearly get a sentence out. Instead, I realized my legs had taken control of the situation themselves, unsatisfied with my conscious brain’s decision to stand and stare, taking steps backward. I backed up a yard, then five yards, then ten.
My mind focused on the fact that spiders don’t waste anything, and pictured my demise. I’d be wrapped in a cocoon, killed, and made nice and mushy before she had me for dinner.
The whole time, my brain was a frenzied mess, my pupils were probably the size of dimes, and I was staring at that tiny, pathetic fence between her and me. There was so much adrenaline pumping through my body that I felt like my bones were vibrating. The fence was, to my eyes, the only thing between us. The only thing keeping her from tackling and killing me. My only hope was that she’d do it quickly.
But she didn’t move. As I absorbed her innocent, polite words, the look on her face was calm, and I wondered if this was typically the way a conversation went before she devoured her prey. I wondered how many people she’d eaten. Not humans, not people from Earth, but the ones from where she came from. The fact that she doesn’t scare the shit out of those people means they’re staggeringly dumber than humans.
Finally, I rounded a corner, both relieved at having her out of my sight and worried that she would take that moment to come find me. When she’d been within eyeshot, I had at least known where she was and could run in the other direction. But I didn’t hear the sound of faint footsteps moving rapidly toward me. All was quiet, in that deep, smothering way that only an empty business in the middle of the night in small town America could be.
My hands trembling, I barely paid attention to anything but the confirmation that my surroundings were free of the colossal spider as I finally got back to the door. Grabbing the handle and letting my eyes dart around for about ten seconds and my ears prick for the slightest sound, I finally swiped my key card across the pad and went inside, shutting the door behind me and engaging the backup deadbolt.
Maybe that was why they had decided on keycards. If I was running from something and panicking, using an actual key or inserting the card like at a hotel would keep me from getting to safety considering my hands were shaking enough to mix a margarita.
Walking over to my chair, I fell into it, letting my body flush itself of terror as I looked up at the cameras. There she was, still in arachnid form, exactly where I’d left her behind that rinky-dink fence, casually looking around and slowly pacing back and forth. I stared at her as my racing heart gradually slowed, and a minute or so later she turned on her eight legs and walked back into the trees.
Whatever invisible fences the enclosures have apparently work, which is nice, because I wasn’t keen on getting killed by one of the creatures here. And that’s what brings me here, spilling out everything that’s happened so far. Because nearly passing out from terror isn’t something I wanted to deal with at work, obviously, but I keep going over what she did in my head again and again, and I feel like I reacted like a child who spotted a wolf spider on their bed. I started to worry for my overactive sense of self-preservation, at least in my capacity as an employee here.
The spider didn’t even try to hurt me, and so I was feeling a bit foolish. Even annoyed, actually, at the fact that I’d freaked out so hard and took off instead of trying to engage in at least basic conversation. I got the sense that she wasn’t at human-level intelligence, but I was never going to be able to hold any level of conversation with an alligator.
Sure, she did mention that she wouldn’t be so crass as to yank off my hand because she’d rather just have my entire corpse, but wouldn’t a wolf do the same if it was hungry? Wouldn’t any carnivore? Actually, they probably would’ve been satisfied with one of my hands. The fear here was from the fact that she turned into a giant spider. If she’d turned into Clifford, I would’ve reacted the same way, if not better than, meeting Leila.
With that, I decided I’m staying on the job. Considering how frustrated I can get with foolish people, it’s a bit hypocritical, and I’m being a bit of an idiot. But…there are definitely wards keeping them in their enclosures. Also, I signed up for creatures for another dimension, whether or not I believed in them at the time, and I will not let encountering my first one in an objectively boring way be the reason I quit.
The money is a factor, I’ll grant you. Of course it is. And I can’t spend it if I’m dead, but all signs point to surviving as long as I don’t do anything dumb. Also, yes, I’ll admit there’s a not-so-little voice in the back of my head that’s desperate to know what else is here. I never thought I’d do something like this, but finding out these things are real, I honestly do want to learn more about them.
Still, though, I decided to call Andrew at the end of my shift to ask if the pepper spray and taser I carried worked on a certain spider, as well as the other animals I’d yet to meet.
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So, if you’re just joining us, I work at a haunted zoo now. Since I’ve gotten some rest, it feels like I’ve got my head on straight, at least, so I’d like to continue where I left off.
I sat on the floor in the office after meeting the ghost until I’d settled my rattled mind (and realized I’d forgotten to ask her name, how rude is that?). I took a deep breath and got up off the floor. Walking over and falling into the rolling chair in front of the large screen of camera views, when I brought up the camera that covered the area in which I’d spotted her, she was still there, and it seemed she hadn’t moved an inch.
Sitting there, at a loss, I continued to watch her. The ghost hung around for another five minutes or so, appearing to look at a few things off-screen, though I’m not sure what. Then she walked off into the forest and left the view of the cameras. I wasn’t sure if she vanished into the ether or if she’d gone looking into the trees to look for something.
But that wasn’t the end of the job interview, so let me jump back there. It continued into what kind of animals the zoo had, with Andrew asking me how much experience I had with dangerous animals.
I took a moment to consider the question. “So, ah…I’ve been going hunting and fishing with a neighbor since I was sixteen,” I told him. “We always have to keep an eye out for gators, bears, and hogs. Then there’s snakes, of course…snapping turtles… Since I’ve lived here my whole life and been aiming for a job with wildlife for a long time, I know a lot about the animals in Arkansas in general. But good advice for all of the above is avoid them, so I’ve had encounters, but I don’t know if you’d say I have experience with them.”
“That’s fine,” Andrew said, nodding. “That’s an answer I’m satisfied with. Now, the ghost was the appetizer, Ripley; here’s the main course. To start with, the pay isn’t twenty-five an hour. It’s fifty.”
Staring in shock for a moment, I asked, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. But that’d be weird to post online considering what applicants think we need, so I halved it.”
“That’s… Okay, why?”
“The animals are already here. You just can’t see them.”
I stared at him for a long moment, some disbelief worming its way into my expression, before saying, “Sorry, what?”
“There’s a chance you’d naturally never see them, or at least some of them,” he continued casually. “It depends on both your genetics and how long you stay on the job. I can naturally see six of them, but that’s it. Suzanne can see all of them, and more. Some are what people would label demons or ghosts. Or magic. Mostly you’d call them cryptids. The ghost was just a warm-up; I mentioned her first because it never takes more than a week to see her if you work the night shift. If you manage to handle her okay, soon you’ll be able to see the animals too. The more time you spend on the grounds, for weird reasons,” he said, wiggling his fingers in the direction of the back door, “the more you’ll be able to see.”
“So, this…this is a zoo for cryptids,” I echoed slowly. He nodded once, waiting to find out what kind of reaction I would have. I gestured vaguely around the room. “If this is a hidden camera show, will you cut me a check for showing up and participating?”
Andrew coughed out a chuckle and shook his head. “No joke. There are a ton of stories out there that have been written to death, pulverized until they’re not the Grimm stories of old and instead they’re Disney films. A lot of those stories come from what some humans have seen. There are dozens of other worlds pressed up against ours, and occasionally things come through by accident. If they’re smart, they’ll lay low and then make their way back when they can. If not, they become local folklore until someone helps them back. I’m just from London, but Suzanne is from somewhere else. She hires people like us for this zoo. Humans.”
Sighing, I shook my head. “That makes no sense. Why would she hire a muggle for a magic zoo?”
Andrew burst out laughing at that, and then waited to gather himself before he continued. “Fair point, but this is less about magic and more about animals, and you’re missing some information that will explain it. First of all, if I misjudge an employee, and they think they can make bank by outing the endangered and valuable animals we have, it’s easy to relocate the zoo.”
“Because magic?” I asked.
“Exactly,” he replied, ignoring the thread of skepticism in my tone. “That means it isn’t the end of the world if that happened, though it is a pain in the arse. But second…let me ask you a question. Speaking of reality shows, say the Discovery Channel put out a call to replace Steve Irwin when he passed. Imagine they had a line out the door,” he said with a gesture, “of people who thought they had the skill and natural talent to replace him, to take on everything he’d been doing his whole life. How many do you reckon would lose an arm, a leg, or their life, by the end of the day?”
My lips parted in surprise and I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re saying people from…wherever…they’re just as dumb as humans, but they’re worse, because they actually think they can handle these things.”
Andrew pointed the pen at me. “Things. Exactly. You called them things. Suzanne and her friends grew up with them and would call them animals. These animals have dispositions and temperaments that we’ve studied for as long as there have been scientists. Where Suzanne’s from, they know the weaknesses of these animals, and also they’re in enclosures here, even if you and I can’t see the walls because they’re invisible things called ‘wards’. If I hire someone who’s got magic on top of all that, they’ll have almost no instinctive fear.
“Everything here is nocturnal, and every one of them is a hunter. Some of these things? Humans see them and they pass out. Not that I want you passing out, but I need someone who is scared of these things, who knows to stay out of the enclosures no matter what. Not someone who thinks they can train them to do tricks, who gets close enough for them to grab a mouthful of hair and drown them. Once, we had a night shift manager injured, and once killed, because they didn’t take these animals seriously enough.”
Thinking back to the Sea World orca incident I knew he’d been referencing, I remembered wondering how someone at that level of her profession could be so careless as I watched the video on YouTube. It made sense when he explained it like that. I hesitated before mentally throwing my hands up and going all in. “So, why put this place here, then? If they’re endangered and also dangerous, why have a zoo at all instead of just a small reserve?”
He pursed his lips, looking disappointed in me. “Ripley. You know that already. You already said as much.”
Thinking back through our conversation, I said, “The rich humans who pay top dollar to see supernatural animals.”
“Not humans,” he told me. “But people, yes, and they are rich, and they’re making donations and spending their money on a ticket here because everything we have is endangered.”
“So…”
I just let my voice trail off and my mind started to drift. Andrew remained silent, letting me do so. There’s that thing people say, ‘I believe that you believe it,’ which is just a kinder way of saying, ‘Bullshit.’ Parents say it about closet monsters. Psychologists say it to people who say they’ve been abducted and probed by aliens. I wanted to say it to Andrew.
But I also wanted a job. If it meant working overnight at an empty zoo, that was fine. When it came down to it, especially when I took the tone of our conversation into account, this was a zoo specifically focused on preserving endangered ‘animals’, and it was allegedly doing important work. Also, if this turned out to be the real deal and I started seeing the animals, I would deal with it, just like I would deal with an enclosure that had a lion or tiger or gorilla. If it came with a ghost and invisible creatures, I really didn’t see what the difference was, if I couldn’t go in the enclosures either way.
On that note, I’d like you to imagine a kid who looks at a roller coaster, watching everyone screaming and grinning as they go up and down and all around and they’re like, ‘Heck, I could do that! That looks like a blast!’
Then they get on, the first drop hits, and they realize they’ve made a terrible mistake.
“All right,” I sighed. “I can’t say I’m going to turn down a job just because it’s going to be scary. Especially not one with this paycheck.”
Andrew smiled. “Awesome. There’s an adjustment process for anyone working here, similar to a dog that gets adopted, actually. I know the general guidelines of, ‘three days, three weeks, three months’ in terms of milestones, until they finally feel they’re where they’re supposed to be,” he told me, “and you can think of your time here along those lines. I really think you’re a great fit, and once you reach the milestone of working here for three months, I’ll officially consider you our new night shift guard. And I hope you’ll stay with us for many years.”
I nodded and smiled at the flattery of an employer wanting me to work a great job for them for a long time. I’d never had a dog, but those milestones were well-known among anyone who knew animals, especially dogs. The first three days, the dog is getting to know its new digs, exploring, and decompressing. At three weeks, they’ve gotten used to their environment and are starting to get comfortable with their surroundings and the routines of the humans they live with. By three months, they know the rules and follow them, they trust you, and they feel they are where they’re meant to be. I could only hope to be so lucky.
I saw the ghost two days ago and she has yet to make another appearance (for those who are curious, I asked, and her name is Leila), and I still hadn’t seen any animals. I did hear one, though, I feel compelled to note. A growling roar sounded from the lake on occasion, echoing across the vast zoo, sending a shiver down my spine. Whatever that animal was, it sounded gigantic.
Andrew said there was apparently a group that wanted to visit for a birthday and they were offering a huge donation, so he let me know they were making an exception and that this group would be walking through the park that night. That meant I’d be watching people watching animals that, as far as I could tell, weren’t there.
It was anticlimactic. Even the three people who came for the tour just looked like people, not like aliens or something eldritch from another dimension, and I stayed in the security office the whole time. Andrew was the one giving the tour. I watched them spend about five minutes at each enclosure, the hour or so that they were there passing without incident. It was clear that they were able to see all the animals, though, since they motioned excitedly at each enclosure and spoke to Andrew, who presumably answered any questions they had.
If they could see the animals, that was that. There was still that niggle in the back of my head, from my twenty-three years of life never encountering anything like ghosts or cryptids, telling me that this was ridiculous. Waiting for someone to knock on the door, a camera mounted on their shoulder, to tell me that it was a big joke and they wanted to see how long I’d play along. But from all I saw, this was a real place with real, invisible animals.
I do carry a taser and pepper spray in my capacity as a security guard. Though it isn’t for the animals, since they’re in the enclosures; they’re actually for the rare instance of a break-in. Andrew mentioned that it had happened several times it the past, someone trying to steal an animal in the hopes of selling it on the black market. They’d been successful before, but apparently my predecessor Roger was good at his job, and mostly they left in handcuffs.
I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge fan of confrontation, but my job was to call Andrew and then confront the person, not kick their ass. That’s what the police were for, or rather, the people Andrew would call in lieu of police in certain situations.
Fifty bucks an hour. That’s the key here.
Andrew hadn’t set up direct deposit, since he was sticking with a strategy of waiting to see if I’d continue to work there once I found out myself dealing with the animals (I’ve decided I am going to just call them animals). Instead, I got an old-fashioned check after my shift every Friday. The number on the first check was delightful. I went out that evening and had a big dinner at the local diner, order my most expensive favorites on the menu and a big slice of pie for dessert.
When it came to the paychecks in general, though, I had this weird feeling of not wanting to tell my dad and brother about the fact that it was actually $50/hr. I previously mentioned that my dad, his name’s Nathan if you’re curious, works at a local grocery store. Our town has a couple food franchises, but I think its size is just short of whatever threshold Walmart uses to decide where to open. He earns $14/hr. and that’s after the tiny raises he’s gotten over the past thirteen years.
That’s not to say he’d feel bad about not making as much as me. On the contrary, he would be ecstatic for me and really proud. But, like me, he’d be suspicious. That hourly rate was the biggest hint that this was more than just a private zoo for cryptids. And as soon as that fat check cleared without problems, my dad wouldn’t be satisfied with reassurances; he’d want to come visit the zoo and look around.
I’d told him it’s a private preservation with scheduled (expensive) visits only and that it had only eleven animals, so he’d been appeased by me brushing off the idea of a visit. Also, I took a few photos of my workplace; one of the security room, one of me sitting in my chair, one photo of the many screens I watched, and a selfie where I was feigning sleep out of boredom, slouched in my chair with my mouth open in a faux snore. That let him feel like he knew where I was and what I was doing, and that I was safe.
But if I told him I was making double what he thought, my father would practically order me to quit. No job was worth my safety, he’d tell me. I was quite of the opposite opinion, however, considering how crucial any and all conservation efforts were these days. Especially with the steep extinction levels due to humans competing with other animals for space, not to mention climate change. Working in any job that helped preserve species and keep ecosystems in balance, or put them back in balance, was so important.
Then again, my father would also point out something I had realized right away: the fact was that I was working with endangered species that were not from Earth. I wasn’t helping my planet. To be honest, though…that didn’t matter to me. Especially after that talk with Andrew about why he hired a human for this job, I figured whichever dimension these animals came from had the equivalent of us, razing forests to the ground, clouding the planet with pollution, and leaving the animals with no avenue of recourse when yet more land was taken from them.
I really do hope to keep working here for a long time, though, and not just because of the money. I can’t help it; I want to know what these things were, and I want to work with them, to do the job of a zookeeper. The same way you go up to the chain-link fence to get close to a carnivore on the other side who thinks you’d make a nice afternoon snack. You just want to be closer to them, to experience that incredible, daunting feeling of being in their presence.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before I got what I wanted.
The day after we had the tour go through, I was doing my sweep when I saw the ghost again. She was sitting on a small boulder in the same area I’d seen her the first time, looking identical, blood covering the front of her slashed shirt, the wounds visible underneath. I stopped and stood there for a moment before I decided to raise my hand in a small wave.
The young woman cocked her head at me and raised a hand in the air in an imitation of my gesture, her expression showing a bit of curiosity.
She was low-key, seemingly not concerned with my presence, looking at me as a novel phenomenon in her world. I wondered what that world consisted of. Was she always here, sometimes visible and sometimes not? Or did she have another world next to ours, in the ether, where she left everything in this world behind and floated in her disembodied form? Did she still feel emotions? Was that really curiosity on her face, or was I projecting? Did she feel happiness? Fear? Did she have the option of moving on, or was she stuck here?
Many questions that I might never get the answers to. And that was assuming Andrew knew the answers, since I’d never met Suzanne Cooper and he hadn’t even mentioned that possibility. This place was clearly her baby, but I’m sure running it was a lot of work. Plus, if she was rich enough to own it, she was rich enough to have other businesses and charities to run.
When it comes to the enclosures, they’re all wrapped by a barrier of some kind, though never one that seems adequate. There was not a single place with the ugly metal weavings of a chain-link fence, and no stretches of circular razor wire. Instead, there are nice fences. Black iron, or wrought steel fencing in a similar style to the one circling the perimeter of the zoo, just shorter and with different patterns. Or a spaced picket fence, the wood stained in some tone of brown, or a split two-rail fence. As if to say, ‘This is the border of your enclosure, but we’re just letting you know out of courtesy.’
When I started to pass enclosure number seven last night, a young woman’s voice spoke, “Hello.”
I startled, unaware that I hadn’t been alone. “Oh. Hi,” I said, staring at her standing a few yards in.
She had been next to a large tree and I hadn’t seen her. This enclosure was behind a picket fence, and she walked through the large area of wild grasses and flowers that stretched across the other side of the fence. There were fewer tall grasses closer to the fence, which I guessed was because it had been tromped down by her regular pacing along it when there were visitors, or if she wanted to see the various enclosures of the zoo. Her sudden appearance was a bit weird, considering I had been expecting to see a cryptid and instead I was looking at, it seemed, an attractive Asian woman.
She wore a black kimono, the soft silk robe draped gently over her body, with beautiful patterns of cherry blossoms, more so over her left side, and red and blue birds with their wings spread. A sash wrapped around her abdomen, she wore socks and sandals on her feet, and her hair was up in those rolls that gave volume to the style.
I was no expert on any fashion, much less that of another country, so I just assumed it was all traditional Japanese clothing. Most likely, the visitors who came liked to see a certain time-honored style and that’s what she stuck with. Or maybe she played on stereotypes. That would be amusing.
“I’m Yui. It’s nice to meet you,” she spoke, arriving at the border of the fence and holding out a hand for me to shake.
I’d been standing about three yards away from her, and I’ll be honest, muscle memory tried to kick in. But I only made it two steps, my hand starting to rise, before I froze, the hand falling limply at my side. “Nice to meet you, too,” I answered, my voice quiet.
Damn. I wonder how many times that honey trap works back where she comes from.
The pleasant look on her face faded, and she lowered her hand. “You won’t shake hands with me? Isn’t that rude?”
“I mean, I kind of like my hand where it is. You know, attached to me.”
Her demure smile widened into something more amused. “I would never do something so revolting.”
Looking her up and down, as if more visual information would give me more knowledge of what she was, I asked her, “What would you do?”
“I would be less wasteful,” she said softly.
A finger of ice trailed down my spine, and I had the sudden image in my head of her grabbing my outstretched hand in an iron grip and yanking me over the fence, leaving me to sprawl on the ground. Then killing and consuming me efficiently, without a single careless step, the same way humans slaughtered pigs, using everything from the hog but the squeal. I was struck with a shiver at the idea of her consuming everything from me but my screams.
Slowly, I took one step further down the path, then another. Just as I got to a walking pace, though, I realized the woman had started walking too, in the same direction. I’d have eventually gotten to the end of her enclosure and keep going, leaving her behind, but she spoke up. “Are you leaving?”
I came to a stop, meeting her gaze again. “My job is to walk the zoo every hour. Then I’ll get back to the security room and stay there until my next walk.”
“Have you met the others yet?”
I hesitated before saying, “Just Leila.”
She blinked languidly. “That means nobody welcomed you here.”
“Andrew did.”
She didn’t reply to that. Instead, she slowly started to lean forward, and I flinched backward a few steps further as I saw insect legs start curling out from her back.
No. Not insect. Arachnid.
The eight legs ended in small ‘paws’ with tiny claws, a layer of hairs covering the leg from top to bottom, like any typical tarantula. I took two more slow steps back and my mouth went dry as the jointed legs just kept lengthening, until they were large enough to lever her off the ground.
My gaze had been on the spider legs, but my heart skipped a beat as I realized her human legs had melded together and turned into a bulging abdomen. Her skin was shifting to a carapace, eventually all the way up to her shoulders and down her arms, her fingers elongating and her nails stretching to claws. From there down, her body was that of a pale tarantula with pedipalps the size of my arms and piercing fangs in her jaws that looked like they could take my head off.
There was a moment, my vision blurring, where I was worried that I might piss myself. The part of my brain that still had its humor intact in that moment told me that I should keep an emergency set of clothes in my car, or at the very least, start wearing Depends to work.
“I show you my true form,” she said softly, her voice now raspy like an eighty-year-old after a lifelong smoking habit. “Welcome to Suzanne Cooper’s zoo. The night shift guard for many years was Roger, before he retired and the zoo moved, and I miss him dearly. What should I call you?”
I choked on my words. There was no way my throat was going to cooperate enough for me to clearly get a sentence out. Instead, I realized my legs had taken control of the situation themselves, unsatisfied with my conscious brain’s decision to stand and stare, taking steps backward. I backed up a yard, then five yards, then ten.
My mind focused on the fact that spiders don’t waste anything, and pictured my demise. I’d be wrapped in a cocoon, killed, and made nice and mushy before she had me for dinner.
The whole time, my brain was a frenzied mess, my pupils were probably the size of dimes, and I was staring at that tiny, pathetic fence between her and me. There was so much adrenaline pumping through my body that I felt like my bones were vibrating. The fence was, to my eyes, the only thing between us. The only thing keeping her from tackling and killing me. My only hope was that she’d do it quickly.
But she didn’t move. As I absorbed her innocent, polite words, the look on her face was calm, and I wondered if this was typically the way a conversation went before she devoured her prey. I wondered how many people she’d eaten. Not humans, not people from Earth, but the ones from where she came from. The fact that she doesn’t scare the shit out of those people means they’re staggeringly dumber than humans.
Finally, I rounded a corner, both relieved at having her out of my sight and worried that she would take that moment to come find me. When she’d been within eyeshot, I had at least known where she was and could run in the other direction. But I didn’t hear the sound of faint footsteps moving rapidly toward me. All was quiet, in that deep, smothering way that only an empty business in the middle of the night in small town America could be.
My hands trembling, I barely paid attention to anything but the confirmation that my surroundings were free of the colossal spider as I finally got back to the door. Grabbing the handle and letting my eyes dart around for about ten seconds and my ears prick for the slightest sound, I finally swiped my key card across the pad and went inside, shutting the door behind me and engaging the backup deadbolt.
Maybe that was why they had decided on keycards. If I was running from something and panicking, using an actual key or inserting the card like at a hotel would keep me from getting to safety considering my hands were shaking enough to mix a margarita.
Walking over to my chair, I fell into it, letting my body flush itself of terror as I looked up at the cameras. There she was, still in arachnid form, exactly where I’d left her behind that rinky-dink fence, casually looking around and slowly pacing back and forth. I stared at her as my racing heart gradually slowed, and a minute or so later she turned on her eight legs and walked back into the trees.
Whatever invisible fences the enclosures have apparently work, which is nice, because I wasn’t keen on getting killed by one of the creatures here. And that’s what brings me here, spilling out everything that’s happened so far. Because nearly passing out from terror isn’t something I wanted to deal with at work, obviously, but I keep going over what she did in my head again and again, and I feel like I reacted like a child who spotted a wolf spider on their bed. I started to worry for my overactive sense of self-preservation, at least in my capacity as an employee here.
The spider didn’t even try to hurt me, and so I was feeling a bit foolish. Even annoyed, actually, at the fact that I’d freaked out so hard and took off instead of trying to engage in at least basic conversation. I got the sense that she wasn’t at human-level intelligence, but I was never going to be able to hold any level of conversation with an alligator.
Sure, she did mention that she wouldn’t be so crass as to yank off my hand because she’d rather just have my entire corpse, but wouldn’t a wolf do the same if it was hungry? Wouldn’t any carnivore? Actually, they probably would’ve been satisfied with one of my hands. The fear here was from the fact that she turned into a giant spider. If she’d turned into Clifford, I would’ve reacted the same way, if not better than, meeting Leila.
With that, I decided I’m staying on the job. Considering how frustrated I can get with foolish people, it’s a bit hypocritical, and I’m being a bit of an idiot. But…there are definitely wards keeping them in their enclosures. Also, I signed up for creatures for another dimension, whether or not I believed in them at the time, and I will not let encountering my first one in an objectively boring way be the reason I quit.
The money is a factor, I’ll grant you. Of course it is. And I can’t spend it if I’m dead, but all signs point to surviving as long as I don’t do anything dumb. Also, yes, I’ll admit there’s a not-so-little voice in the back of my head that’s desperate to know what else is here. I never thought I’d do something like this, but finding out these things are real, I honestly do want to learn more about them.
Still, though, I decided to call Andrew at the end of my shift to ask if the pepper spray and taser I carried worked on a certain spider, as well as the other animals I’d yet to meet.
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