I have had 3 horrible bouts of illness in 6 months and I’m wondering if it’s actually just asthma and allergy exacerbation. It starts with a dry cough that turns to a wet one with yellow mucus and then when my chest clears it goes into my nose before I feel better. No fevers and my doctor won’t even test for me anything anymore. She’s really not interested in helping me. I think they are tired of me calling and saying I’m sick again but I need a note if I miss more than 3 days and these bouts have lasted me 1-2 weeks each time. They won’t even see me for an appointment anymore. Even the triage nurse told me I need to see a pulmonologist again and I’m not getting sick. Triage nurse said my doctor would call so I can come in and talk about my asthma and get a referral but when they called they said go to urgent care and hope you feel better. Is this really just my asthma getting worse? It’s not even a cold? They keep telling me that I have a lung disease and this is just the reality of it and to feel better soon.
She has me on qvar BID two puffs. Always have a rescue inhaler and nebulizer at home.

Hello. I F (22) went to the er on Saturday because I had signs of a heart attack (chest pain, pain in my neck, back and arms). I did two ECG, ultrasound on the heart and many blood tests. No heart attack, no blood cloths, nothing alarming. All was good, i just had a tiny potassium deficency and acid reflux. I was prescribed a PPI. But I gotta say that I'm really reluctant to use those especially after looking online on PubMed / NIH that it can cause you to easily develop C diff. or that when you stop the medication the heart burns could be more painful. I was talking to the pharmacist about it and he basically gastlighted me and said that I was too anxious and that this treatment is perfectly safe (I'm thinking of doing a complaint to the board of pharmacists). I dont think that health professionals really understand my worries and where I'm coming from. I always get gastlighted by health professionals since I'm very anxious person. I don't know what to do or who to talk with.. I'm just lost. I tell myself maybe ignore the heartburns but that could potentially cause other problems in the future. I'm lost and I'm tired of always having to advocate for myself.

i all, I'm worried about my symptoms and I wanted to see if anybody experienced these. I have a GI appointment setup about 10 days away but my mind is beginning to race.
Until.the last week I had been waking up.with bad dry mouth for about 6 weeks and now that seems to have gone away.
I also now feel like I have a burn on both sides of my belly button and now I think I have constipation. To top ot off I have had a lingering cough for about 7 weeks and as of Saturday I have a hard pea sized bump on my chest on my chest here.
https://preview.redd.it/i04wvrkm2s1d1.png?width=874&format=png&auto=webp&s=02c46f1957975bf5991e853ee28696c5f4a6e628
My belly button and below were pretty much on fire yesterday, and I I decided to go into the ER. They ended up doing blood work, X-ray, and CAT..
Blood work has no elevated levels for white blood cells, x-ray shows no masses, and CAt showed no cancer as well as nothing "surgical." Whatever that means. .
The doctor last night thought the bump was a lymph node on my clavicle and to get a follow-up. The doctor mentioned that the CAT did show fatty liver disease.
I'm going to see a derm today to get their opinion about the bump. It's still there same size. This morning when I went to use the rest room it was a bit warm and I think I saw a little bit of blood, but i'm not sure.
https://preview.redd.it/hdc4htqc3s1d1.png?width=270&format=png&auto=webp&s=d36e2350f3cdf01ecac12845e6887efeb290ed7b

“Will you look at that,” Captain Yontan marveled from the observation deck. They had arrived in the Solar System at long last, the old bastion of knowledge mankind had abandoned many millennia ago.
“Such a basic tech, yet so beautiful, so… poetic,” Lezlybe uttered, gazing at the constant flux of Sunfire Conduit pulled from the sun to one, two, three relays, and finally to the surface of Pluto, where its energy was being harnessed inside a crater. “And you’re certain that’s where the Ultimate Knowledge is stored?”
“Yes,” Yontan nodded. “Every clue leads to Pluto. Can you imagine? The Ultimate Knowledge, lost for millennia, on this planet out of all places.”
“Ready to descend at your command, captain,” announced Ghenna.
Yontan turned to his crew and smiled. It was the first time they had seen him do that in months. “Hover around the south-south-eastern quadrant of the crater. That’s where the entrance is supposed to be.”
“Yes, Sir!”
Lezlybe’s turned to face the captain, her long black hair swirling around with her.
“Wouldn’t that energy burn us on approach?”
“It might be basic tech, but not that basic, Lez,” said Yontan. “It’s safe up to a distance of 100 meters. Don’t underestimate the intelligence of our ancestors because they built this thing in the distant past. They were as smart as us. Smarter even, in certain aspects, I’m sure.”
“Found the entrance, captain,” said Ghenna. It was a pale peach colored door built on the craterside.
“Land near it, wherever it’s stable.”
“Yes, Sir!”
The ship touched down next to the Hollis Crater. Yontan and four others suited up and left the craft. Before heading for the door, the team stopped to gaze at the Sunfire Conduit from their position. It went up, up, up as far as the eye could see.
Jmerr was awestruck.
“I can’t believe we’re able to look at it with basic sun visors. Do you think our ancestors purposefully designed it like that?”
“Of course,” said Yontan, mesmerized by the spiraling blaze swooshing down the crater. “Aesthetics have always been important, especially since it used to be connected to three planets, two dwarf planets, and eight moons. Many renown painters have depicted the Conduits in their art. Although no physical portraits survived, their works have been well documented over hundreds of books.”
Lezlybe approached Jmerr and put her hand over his shoulder.
“I kind of wish we could hear its thunderous sound. I imagine it’d be a satisfying swoosh, kind of like a blowtorch.”
“You’d be deaf before you’d hear a thing,” laughed Yontan. “We’re speaking of extremely powerful jets coming from a star, after all. I can’t wait to see why they’re pulling so much energy on such a small planet. It’s totally excessive in my view.”
“Maybe it’s not,” said Lezlybe. “Especially if the Ultimate Knowledge is behind this door.”
The team approached the door, a small black panel to its side. Yontan placed a round device on top and, seconds later, it retracted into the ground.
“A Grampus?” frowned Jmerr, even though no one could see his face behind the visor. “Why do you use this old AI?”
“Because I don’t know the code,” explained Yontan as they stepped inside a long hall. “So I brought this device with me to crack the password. Don’t forget that this here is also old tech. Newer devices could break something.” He glanced over his shoulder at the wide-open entryway with the ship not too far behind. “But it looks like the Grampus broke it anyway since it doesn’t slide shut.”
At the end of the wide turquoise hall, another door was easily popped open with Yontan’s device. This time, however, the heavy door closed shut when the last person stepped in.
“I hope we’re not trapped in this small room,” gulped Lezlybe.
“Don’t worry, we can ask someone on board to cut it open if needed,” said Yontan. “After all we –”
PSHHHHHHHH
A burst of gas sprayed them from all sides, followed by a shower of heavy liquid. A few moments after it stopped, the door in front of them opened, and a gentle male voice greeted them.
“Welcome to U.K. ONE. The current air pressure is at 101.3 kilopascals, with a temperature of 22.4 degrees Celsius and a humidity level set at 60% RH.”
The voice then proceeded to inform them about the room’s condition among other sets of data.
“I see. We were inside a basic decompression chamber,” muttered Jmerr.
The tallest crewmate, Lessandre, popped his helmet off and took a deep breath.
“Ah, historical fresh air,” he boomed, looking around the oval room. “It brings a tear to my eye.”
“What are you doing?” Yontan shouted. “We don’t know what particles or microorganisms could linger in here.”
“Relax, captain. Tyche analyzed the air and told me it’s fine. Why don’t you all retract your visors and experience this multimillennial-old air? You’ll never have the chance to do that again, you know.”
Yontan checked with his own version of his AI, Tyche, and everything seemed to be fine, so he retracted the visor of his helmet as well, just in time to scratch an itch on his beard. The rest of the crew followed, except for Jmerr.
“Come on, Jmerr. It’s a unique experience, my friend,” beamed Lessandre, tapping on his shoulder.
Jmerr scowled at Lessandre. “I refuse to take unnecessary risks.”
“As you wish,” Lessandre grinned, loudly sniffing the air. “Ahhh. The air in here is exceptionally… how to describe it?”
“Dusty?” Lezlybe chimed in. “I think the auto-clean on the filter stopped working long ago.”
Yontan was ignoring his crew, inspecting the walls of this oval room for clues. But the room was pretty much empty, outside of the air conditioning holes and lights flickering on the ceiling.
“I know there’s another door on the other side of the crater, but that one’s the entrance to the accumulator and workspaces,” he muttered to himself, caressing the wall in the hopes of finding a button or a gap of sorts.
“Is that place also turquoise?” asked Lessandre. “I really hate this color. Reminds me too much of my ex.”
Lezlybe rolled her eyes.
“Then why don’t we go there?” asked Ghenna, who had closed her visor since she didn’t like the smell.
“Because,” began Yontan absent-mindedly while brushing his hands over the wall, “every document points to this place. We’ll check the other site if we don’t find anything here. Now if only I – aha! A button. This might be it.”
Yontan pushed it with his finger. Instead of clicking, like any other button would, his index finger sank completely in. He immediately withdrew it, fearing something might cut his finger off. But the button came back, except it was now white and protruded out of the wall. Yontan hesitantly pressed it.
An oval pedestal emerged from the middle of the floor, gradually rising until it reached chest height. The left side slid open with melodious clicks, and out came a small table with a round black object on it with a sky-blue center. Before they had the time to guess what it was, a hologram rose from it, displaying the head of an old balding man with a lazy eye.
“Greetings, future humans,” said the feeble voice. “And welcome to K.U. ONE. What is your purpose here?”
Yontan glanced at his crew, who gave him a nod and shrugs. He cleared his throat and spoke clearly, “We’ve come here to gain access to the Ultimate Knowledge, which is said to contain the answers to our purpose within the universe.”
“I see. And you are one, two, five. Oh! That is good news, good news indeed. I’ve been waiting for you. Well, not me per se, since I’m long dead, I suppose,” the hologram laughed, “but my digital image. And five? Oh, proof that nothing happens at random.”
Yontan was slightly taken aback.
“Wait. You’re not a simple recording?”
“No, no. I’m enhanced with artificial intelligence. It speaks as I would speak, saying what I asked it to say – with a bit of panache. Now, move to the other side of the pedestal. It will pop open and contain a box.”
The other side popped open, displaying a silver box embossed with gold on the edges. It was beautiful. Lessandre grabbed it and tried to pry it open.
“Tut-tut! You need the key to open the box. I’ll hand it over only of you accept to eat its contents.”
“Eat it?” Yontan uttered in excitement. “Will it alter our brains? Give us the knowledge we yearn for?”
“Not quite. But it is a necessary step.”
“I won’t touch it,” Jmerr stated firmly. “I don’t trust this man. Whatever’s inside, it’s been in there for thousands of years. There’s no way it’s still edible.”
“Oh but it is,” grinned the man. “What do you think the Sunfire Conduit is used for?”
“What?” uttered Lezlybe. “The power of the sun used for… food?”
“Of course, there’s more to it. But a lot of energy is necessary to cool it down to near zero kelvin and keep it that way until it’s very slowly reheated to the ideal temperature for you to savor.
“Now, will you eat its contents or not?”
“Why don’t we bring it back to the ship and study it?” suggested Jmerr.
“The moment you leave the room with the box, its contents will be destroyed, and so will the key to Ultimate Knowledge.”
Yontan exchanged a glance with his crew. Lessandre gave him thumbs up, Ghenna nodded and Lezlybe shrugged. Jmerr was the only one to firmly shake his head.
“Fine, we’ll eat its contents,” said Yontan, upon which Jmerr put his hands up in the air in frustration.
A key appeared from the front of the pedestal. Yonan used it to open the box Lessandre was holding. Five dark-brown spherical objects were neatly placed within fitting molds, resembling the five dots on a die.
“Behold the Five Orbs of Knowledge,” the hologram said solemnly. “I recommend one for each of you.”
Jmerr crossed his arms. “There’s no way I’m touching this.”
“What if someone eats two?” asked Yontan, eyeing Jmerr.
“It would sadden me, even though it might be beneficial to grasp the Ultimate Knowledge.”
Without hesitation, Lessandre popped the middle one in his mouth. Every other crewmate was staring at him. A few bites in, he suddenly froze, eyes wide open. His gaze slowly shifted from Yontan, to Lezlybe, to Ghenna – whose visor was now lowered – and finally stopped on Jmerr.
“Awl eash ‘em bofh,” he rapidly chewed, popping a second one in. “Awl eash ‘em owl ihf you guysh downt.”
Yontan’s hand was shaking as he picked his Orb. Lezlybe and Ghenna also chose one.
“On the count of three,” gulped Yontan, as he noticed the horrified look on Jmerr. “One… two… three!”
The shell of the Orb had a slight crunch, with a rather soft, creamy inner core, gently melting on their tongue. Sweet with a zest of bitterness. Each bite, each movement of their tongue was another moment they savored, dreading the end of this unique flavor. It was an explosion of exoticism, a sensory overload inside their mouth; the richness of the Orb filled their taste buds and souls alike with pure bliss.
Then there was the aroma, dissolving the dusty odor of the room with its arboraceous perfume. It reminded them of Terrestrial woods, now planted across various planets in the Milky Way. Comforting, ancient, nostalgic, and so raw at heart.
Fortunately, this jolly adventure didn’t end after they swallowed it, no, each residue, sticking to the various corners of their mouths, lingered like a fleeting memory soon to disappear forever. Yet it was still there, to grasp with the palm of their hands. But when they tried to, it became vapor, dwindling, yet etched in their brains with such strength it would be impossible to ever forget this moment. Ever.
Their minds were still floating on a cloud of ecstasy when Yontan stared at Lessandre.
“You ate two,” he breathed. “And you,” he turned to Jmerr, “you have no idea what you’ve just missed. It’s… indescribably delectable.” Yontan faced the hologram. “Please, give us one more, for Jmerr. He has to try this… Orb.”
The hologram grinned widely, creasing the old man’s entire face.
“These were the last five. There are no more.”
“WHAT?” everyone shouted at once.
“Th– that’s it? No more?” Yontan’s shoulder slumped. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier? We could’ve taken it back to the ship and try to recreate it.”
“It’s impossible without the recipe.”
“A recipe? Give it to us, I don’t care about Ultimate Knowledge anymore,” Lessandre laughed.
“But you had two,” Lezlybe scowled.
“And I want more,” he chuckled. “I’ve never felt better in my life. Even two were far too few!”
“Yes, hand us the recipe so we can share it with the rest of the crew,” pleaded Yontan.
The hologram seemed more and more pleased with itself.
“Even if I gave you the recipe you couldn’t make it when the main ingredient’s missing.”
“What’s the main ingredient?” Ghenna asked.
“Cacao. And these were chocolate truffles, which I made myself utilizing the very last cacao beans to ever exist. I’m sorry. You’ll never eat chocolate ever again.”
Jmerr seemed disappointed upon hearing it, especially after seeing how everyone reacted to it.
“B – but… why?” Yontan asked. “Why offer us a delicious treat only to punch us in the gut right after?”
The hologram smiled. “Think. What is your purpose here?”
“To acquire Ultimate Knowledge… But I fail to understand…”
“If my clock is correct, 3622 years have passed since the last human – which is myself – set wheels in this room. 3622 years of technological advancement, of accumulated mastery of various sciences and understanding of the universe. Yet you believe Ultimate Knowledge is to be found in the past?”
The crewmembers looked at each other, dumbfounded.
“So… it doesn’t exist?” suggested Lezlybe. “We’ve come this far for nothing…”
“Haven’t you just experienced the ultimate delicacy of humankind? Therein lies everything you need to know.”
“It’s not about the knowledge,” began Yontan, “but about the experience we savor?”
“Exactly!” Clapping hands appeared in front of the hologram’s face. “Instead of looking for something that may not be, learn to cherish the transient nature of existence through every experience you encounter. Who knows what happens once you’re dead? Constant hesitation leads to a life of lost opportunities. One of you has learned this lesson the hard way, I’m afraid. However, the tall man over there has greatly benefited from this lesson. Balance in all things!”
“No data is ever lost,” snorted Jmerr scornfully. “Death is simply the temporary loss of information until it’s retrieved.”
“The no-hiding theorem,” smiled the hologram. “Of course. But you wouldn’t be here if you could completely determine the state of the entire universe. Thus, my rhetoric stays valid. For as long as this is beyond our grasp – likely until humanity’s extinction – you ought to cherish every experience and lose your fear of consequences within reason.”
The room went silent, the subtle taste of chocolate still lingering in their mouths like the fading words of an old love letter.
“What do we do now, captain?” Ghenna asked shyly.
“Take your new-found knowledge and share it with others,” the hologram said before Yontan could open his mouth.
“So… there really is nothing else here?”
“Nothing at all.”
The hologram fluttered for a moment.
“Were these really the last pieces of chocolate?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you eat them yourself?”
“Because sharing is the quintessential attribute of humanity. And I’m glad to have contributed my part, even though it took several millennia.”
“So why use all that energy from the sun?” asked Lezlybe.
“It’s twofold,” said the hologram. “Partially to keep this chocolate in pristine state, as I said before. You’ll understand the second reason soon enough. Let’s say it’s a parting gift, for that man who hasn’t eaten his Orb.”
“I don’t understand.” Yontan was running his fingers through his hair. “You speak of sharing, yet we won’t be able to share this exquisite experience. There’s no chocolate left.”
“Share the wisdom you’ve acquired. Or perhaps you shall find something unique to share with others as I did. Even the stories of your adv–”
The man disappeared for a few seconds.
“–entures – Ah? We’ve been cut. Soon I shall be free, just like your minds. Swiftly return to your ships, and sail t–”
It flickered again and stopped for nearly ten seconds.
“–he vast empty space to… wherever your heart leads you. Farewell. Fare well indeed.”
The hologram zoomed out to show an old man sitting on a wheelchair, waving both hands. It flickered one last time before completely fading out with a hum.
Suddenly, a familiar voice spoke from everyone’s earpiece.
“Captain, is everything all right?” asked one of the crew left on the ship in a panic.
“Why? Did the entrance crumble down?”
“No, Sir. It’s the Conduit. You need to see this for yourself.”
The crew put on their visors and hurried out of the room, through the hallway, out on the freezing surface of Pluto. They gasped upon staring up.
“The Conduit!” Ghenna uttered.
It was oscillating, slowly shrinking until the last flames swooshed back and forth from the relay to the crater, and then, it retracted entirely.
“It’s… it’s gone…” sighed Yontan.
“The parting gift,” Jmerr sobbed. “He knew. He knew someone might not try out the chocolate truffle, and he purposefully shut down the entire system.”
Lessandre turned to Jmerr. “Consider this your incredible experience. We must be the only humans to ever see this happen in real time.”
“But we can reconnect it, unlike the chocolate, can’t we?” said Lizlybe.
Yontan shook his head. “Do you know of the ancient pyramids in the northern African continent?”
“Yeah…” she hesitated. “Vaguely.”
“Do you know why they’ve never been rebuilt?”
Lezlybe shrugged.
“Because there’s nothing to gain in doing so.” He pointed his finger at the vast expanse above him. “We’ve never rebuilt the ancient pyramids – not due to complexity, but due to loss of time and resources involved without any actual benefit. I’m afraid this is the last time anyone has admired this old tech at work.”
Upon their return on the ship, they told the rest of the crew what inside the U.K. ONE.
“So the Ultimate Knowledge doesn’t exist?” one of the crewmember asked.
Yontan took one last glance at the crater as the ship took off.
“I believe it does,” he beamed, looking at the bemused faces of his crew. “Not here.” He gently tapped his temple. “But here.” His hand rested on his chest. “And there.” His arms were wide open, as if trying to embrace his whole crew at once. “Acquired wisdom is the Ultimate Knowledge. And the ability to share experiences with others is our greatest gift.”

I (33f 180lbs) was “diagnosed” with whooping cough on 5/15 after being exposed to potential whooping cough from 5/10-5/12. No tests were performed for either of us but was assumed for person I got it from due to high rate in her area and long lasting cough (she was “diagnosed” 5/13).
Anyways, I was prescribed zpak, prednisone, and benzonatate. I finished antibiotics and prednisone Sunday. I have illness induced asthma and started having a lot of wheezing early Sunday morning/maybe the day before.
As of yesterday, I should be no longer contagious but my chest is rattling every time I breathe. The cough isn’t awful yet but I do cough often. I thought I was taking mucinex this whole time but discovered yesterday morning it was just a nighttime cold medicine. I am now three mucinex pills in. Drank a lot of water and tea yesterday.
My concern is,is the congestion supposed to be this bad at this point after antibiotics? Do I need to go back to urgent care today? I am supposed to return to work tomorrow and I work with a highly immunocompromised population and am terrified of still being contagious. Is there anything else that might be prescribed for me that may help this congestion? I sound pretty gross when I cough. I do produce some and it’s more of a whitish green. I can tell my breathing is a little better this morning but the congestion is still quite a lot.
Any insight is very much appreciated.

Has anyone experienced these symptoms
So for the past month I've been suffering for I'm guessing a bad flare up in my stomach. I was taking 40mg of omeprazole and a few months ago was feeling great, eating the food I loved so I made the dumb mistake to stopped taking them cold turkey. Well a month ago I had the worst acid dump and wreaked havoc in my stomach and esophagus. I had this happen a year ago and I stopped eating and lost 20lbs. Now I feel like I'm going down the same rabbit hole.
They symptoms are feeling like a roll of dough in the top middle of my abdomen. Pretty much my stomach area. I still have the burning sensation in my esophagus and tongue. I constantly have esophagus spasms that are driving me nuts. Keeps me up all night and gives me anxiety. Also when I eat something and when the good goes down my esophagus and right when it hits the sphincter it feels like it gets stuck for a second and then feels like it scraps it while going down into my stomach. I'm beginning to lose weight again. I do feel like I have an hemorrhoid so now having trouble passing stools. I'm in constant fight or flight mode. Body fatigue, feeling symptoms of dehydration, brain fog, when I get excited my heart rate begins to race and I feel like lava running through my vains, my throat feels tight at times and stings that comes and goes, the constant belching, can't sleep at night due to a rush of tightness that rushes in the middle of my chest that comes and goes like every 2 minutes 🥺.
I suffer from health anxiety so the first thought is stomach or esophageal cancer but from I'm getting told from people that has experienced this that it could possibly be gastritis, peptic ulcer, esophagitis at times my stomach feels inflamed when I drink water. Even when I talk I get short of breath 😟
I force myself to ear but before I do I start to get nauseated but then when I do eat I eat all my food as if I was hungry. Anxiety?? Just wanting to see some of yalls thoughts
A year ago I've gotten blood work, xrays, ultrasounds, barium swallow, stool samples, and a CT scan and all have come back negative for cancer so why can't I trust the results. If it's an ulcer how long does it take to heal and does it give you flu like symptoms when it flares up?

My 8 year old dog has been having issues for about a year. First it was either an autoimmune disease or a tick borne illness that had him unable to walk distances. I was carrying him outside to poop, since being the great dog he is, refused to go near the house, only off in the woods. I was ready to say goodbye before a heavy prednisone and antibiotic treatment had him walking again. He lost a lot of muscle and fur from the long stretch prednisone, but he got better once he was tapered off. A few months later he started losing weight, had a weird odor, and wasn’t as active has he had been. They couldn’t pinpoint what it was after so many tests, but thought he was clearly losing protein somehow. We couldn’t afford the 8000 for endoscopy and biopsies to be sure. We started feeding him double the food and he improved. Then the vet suggested a low fat diet that could help as a treatment for one of the possible issues. We started doing that, and he started getting worse. The smell was back, he was laying around more, and not wanting to go out besides needing to relieve himself. He also started having raspy breathing over the weekend, so we took him to the vet. He now has a rock hard mass on his chest that seems to have formed quickly, and another mass that’s pressing on his trachea. They gave him prednisone to try and shrink the mass on his trachea.
I need help deciding when I should have him put to sleep. I don’t want him suffocating. The prednisone might be helping, his breathing sounds better this morning, however he still is laying on the floor, not his bed, doesn’t want to be outside much, when he gets worked up barking at whatever is out in the wood, he can’t sounds horrible. He was coughing and dry heaving a bunch last night in the middle of the night.
I want to bring him sooner than later, I’ve had dogs with cancer and tumors before and I don’t want him to be suffering because I couldn’t let go soon enough, but not this morning he sounds better, is currently laying out on the deck,and still wags his tail when I get near. He didn’t get up to greet me when I got home yesterday, but just picked his head up and wagged his tail until I came over to pet him.
My gut says I should bring him today before he gets bad again, but it’s so hard to know if it’s too soon. The prednisone may buy some time, but who knows how much, and even then he’s not himself fully, but he also doesn’t seem like he’s miserable. It’s like he’s stuck halfway between where I would be able to easily say yes or no.

So over the past 2 days my Pelvic Floor ( rectal ) burning sensation and spasming has seemed to unlock. Probably down to the stretches I started doing.. Although I have a cough now so that isn't going to help
But now I feel like my whole rectum/perineum has this cold rushing sensation when I move around? kind of like that feeling when your on a rollercoaster and take a sudden drop.. Could this be tired muscles?
Another example or closely related feeling is when you have severe anxiety and get rushes up and down your arm etc

“We’re a meat family,” my dad would proudly tell strangers. He’d wait for the quizzical look, then launch into detail, starting with how many freezers we had, how long we could sustain ourselves on the contents. It was just his way of starting a conversation, which made sense when you considered that raising and home-killing animals for food was, for want of a better term, his life-long hobby. His prize possession was one of those industrial-sized vacuum sealers: you could put half a pig inside and wrap it in plastic so tightly that every wrinkle and skin fold waxed unreal with shiny detail.
If we hadn’t lived in a rural area, albeit semi-urbanised, I guess it would have been pretty weird. But the mostly farming-stock locals only found his extra enthusiasm a little bit odd.
When he wasn’t being a bit embarrassing talking about it, I never really paid much heed to his hobby. I had a child’s vaguely grateful awareness that though our family went through some lean financial times, our stomachs never suffered like some of the families around us. All the beef, pork, ham and bacon in those big old chest freezers passed down from his dad really could have fed us for years.
I should preface all this by saying that I wasn’t a particularly bright kid, though neither was I dumb. I didn’t fail badly at anything in school, I just never achieved beyond a pass. I didn’t know it yet back then, still quietly dreaming about being a ballet star or a dressage champion, but mediocrity was my destiny. And I think that’s why I got on so well with my Aunt Liz.
Liz was my dad’s live-in youngest sister. She was one of those women who get described as ‘bubbly’ — not really pretty, not really smart, not a lot going on besides just being… well, all Liz. But she was salt of the earth; kind, caring, and great with kids. She was the only person who would willingly mind my two older brothers, who fought like hellcats and caused more trouble than the whole last generation of my family combined. People would privately lament to my parents that it was a shame Liz didn’t have kids of her own, but dad would just shake his head and say Liz liked it that way – that all the fun of looking after kids is being able to give them back to their parents.
I guess she was like me; nice, but mediocre. Lovely, but somehow forgettable when she wasn’t doing something for you.
But when Liz left us, I couldn’t forget her.
In hindsight, it was pretty weird timing that we had a big fortieth birthday party for Liz right before she disappeared. She was radiant that night; she’d hired a local girl to do her hair and makeup, and it was honestly the first time I’d ever seen her look pretty. She’d even worn a push-up bra under a tight red dress, which flattered her very plump curves well enough that the neighbour’s farmhand was spotted disappearing into the woolshed with her for a snog. In my dawning awareness, that gave a plain girl hope: if Aunty Liz could get a guy at forty, maybe things would turn out okay for me.
Anyway, I couldn’t forget how her pink cheeks, her eyes, her whole self, glowed that night before Liz went to bed. She said it was the best birthday ever, and that she was very much looking forward to the next stage of her life.
Would I have done anything different, if I had known? If I had realised what, exactly, that next stage was?
The week after the party, Aunt Liz said she was going on a little holiday up north, to visit some old school friends. She packed her things – she didn’t honestly have that many – and drove her little orange mini out onto the main road. And with a wave of one fleshy hand, she was gone. Nobody really thought much of it when she didn’t call, because nobody rural had cellphones back then. And Liz was, as I said, somehow kinda forgettable when she wasn’t right in front of you.
When we hadn’t had contact for six weeks, Dad tracked down the land line numbers for their old school buddies. They were surprised to hear from him — Liz had never arrived, so they had just assumed she’d cancelled her visit. No-one had thought to check. I eavesdropped on the conversation, and it sounded for all the world like *they* had forgotten about Aunt Liz, too.
From there it became a missing person case. The local cops came and talked to all of us; the farmhand who’d been seen snogging her was briefly detained, then let go, dad got grilled at length, even my hellion brothers were questioned thoroughly to see if this was one of their wild and dangerous pranks gone wrong.
But everything was a dead end. Nobody knew where Liz was, or what had happened to her.
The remains of her old mini were found halfway across the country, burned out on a beach, on a derelict stretch of ragged, rocky coastline. The police assumed murder and combed the area for remains. But even the most expert divers couldn’t conquer the incredible undertow and fast-shifting seabed of that coastline to look for evidence, so none was forthcoming.
Eventually the cops collectively shrugged and said that there was really nothing more they could do unless more information suddenly came to light. The locals knew nothing, no witnesses had come forward, and the trail was cold. As far as anyone knew, poor aunt Liz had been murdered on some desolate beach, far away from her home.
It didn’t feel fair to me. She’d once mentioned wanting her remains buried on our farm, in the graveyard plot beside grandma and grandad.
So, in my grief, I went into her room to look for something of hers to bury beside them.
Like I said, Liz didn’t have many things. Her room was pretty spartan, and her wardrobe was mostly sensible farm stuff. There was one exception: she, like me, did like to read, and she had a pretty good collection of well-thumbed books. I think it’s the escapism – even the most mediocre girl can lose herself in the plot of some trashy romance novel, imagine there’s still hope of being swept off her feet by that handsome stableboy, his inexplicable yearning for chubby plain girls.
So I set myself the task of going through the books, to find the right one to bury in the graveyard plot.
Most of them were exactly what you’d expect, but some of them were racier than I was used to. I felt various parts of my body flushing and tingling, as I read breathless prose about calloused hands touching the softest flesh of the protagonist. Okay, if I’m honest with myself, I might have got a little *too* invested in my project at that point. But that was also why I persisted going through her entire collection, until I found the ragged paperback from 1970, entitled Tawny Sands. And inside that trashy cardboard romance cover, I discovered not the tale of Tawny Sands, but some carefully hand-cut, stitched-in pages. A handwritten story in my Aunt’s rounded penmanship: Memoirs of a Long Pig.
I read her story twice in a row, utterly gripped.
Aunt Liz was no Stephen King – heck, she wasn’t even the Goosebumps guy – but her story was gripping and compelling, and I couldn’t put it down. Even if I hadn’t known her, I think that would have been true.
The gist of it was that Liz, when she was sixteen, had discovered that our family had a very long history of eating what she described as ‘Long Pork’. It’s an antipodean term, anglicised from the Pacific Islands: human meat.
Like me, young Liz still had some hopes and dreams. In one of her many failed attempts to find a special talent, she’d taken up cooking as a hobby. Naturally, with our family’s overabundance of meat, she’d scoured the freezers in the shed for ingredients: the racks of ribs and stacks of pork chops, butcher-paper wrappings all neatly labelled with the first letter of the name of the animal they came from.
She found familiar meat from Rodney, one of the pigs that had been recently slaughtered, emblazoned with an ‘R’ in her father’s strong, blocky lettering. There were cutlets labelled ‘M’ for Mary, from one of the lambs she’d hand-reared, and ‘F’ for Ferdinand, the steer they’d killed the month before. But she couldn’t explain the many, many curious parcels of meat on one side of the huge freezer, all labelled ‘J’ – at least, not until she took it all out and assembled it as well as she could on the scoured concrete floor of the killing shed. A big, frozen jigsaw puzzle without the box, her best attempt to discover what kind of beast the pieces had come from.
The animal, she quickly realised, was a Long Pig. Her own Aunt Jenny, who had died the month before – just after her fortieth birthday.
Fortunately, or perhaps not, for Liz, her father entered the shed right at that moment and realised his daughter had discovered the family secret. He sat down calmly on the lid of the freezer, and explained to her that this was a long-running family tradition, dating back to at least before his grandfather had been born.
“There are always people in life, Liz,” he’d said, “who won’t really amount to much. They want to be useful, want to be more. They strive and they strive, trying job after job, hobby after hobby, trying to hit on something they’re really good at. Something that makes them special. Those people can waste their whole lives, chasing dreams that never come true. Eventually they die unfulfilled, knowing that all their time has been wasted. That what they leave behind will fade quickly.”
His voice was oddly gentle as he leaned down and patted one of the neatly wrapped cuts of Aunt Jenny, still sitting frozen on the shed floor.
“Your Aunt Jenny was one of those people. So was my Aunt Irene.” He paused to gaze at his daughter, his next words peppered with emphasis. “But you see, my sweet Liz, they did find a purpose in life. They did find a way to be special, and they left this world utterly certain of their gift.” He stood up, stretched his back. “Let me show you.”
Liz waited while my grandad meticulously stacked the meat back into the freezer, all but one J-marked parcel that looked for all the world like a thick venison steak. He took her back to the farmhouse, and reverently unwrapped the deep red, heavily marbled meat to let it thaw. Then he laid it in the family’s ancient, cast-iron pan, basting it with butter and rosemary until a heavenly scent filled the kitchen, and Aunt Liz couldn’t stop her mouth from watering.
“Just try it. Let her show you. You’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.”
Even though she knew it was her aunt, Liz couldn’t stop herself from taking that first bite. There was something transcendent about the smell, overriding her natural revulsion that this was human meat, not one of their farm animals. For the first time, she truly realised it: we’re just another kind of animal. And weren’t her memories of Mary the lamb almost as fond as her memories of Aunt Jenny?
Liz explained then, in her curly handwriting, the explosion of taste that had assaulted her when she tried the steak. It was tender, it was succulent, it was rich beyond imagining. The fats melted on her tongue, lingering somewhere between pork and beef, but oddly neither. The flavour of the meat defied identification; something familiar, yet not.
But one thing she couldn’t deny; it was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten. Tears dripped onto her plate, mingled with the juice, the grease — not grief, but a pure, real, giddy delight.
“You’re tasting your aunt’s love for this family,” my grandad explained. “Her entire life was carefully curated, to eventually make unforgettable moments for us, just like this. This was her way of being special. This was the greatest gift she could possibly bring to our world – and because she realised that, she died with not a single regret. She knew her life had purpose. She was perfectly, completely fulfilled.”
I felt those words. I felt them lodge in my own belly, settling uncomfortably deep. I knew Aunt Liz, probably better than anyone else in the family. I’d seen how fucking happy she’d been on her fortieth, how goddamn fulfilled she was, despite apparently being a *nobody* and achieving *nothing*. Somehow, in the space of a single day, she had gone from being a forgettable background character to becoming the *main character*, immortalising herself in our family’s history with her sacrifice. Quite literally becoming part of all of us, forever.
I went to the killing shed after I finished with the book. I looked inside the freezers.
But there were no vacuum-sealed packages labelled ‘L’, no matter how deep I dug into the frozen stacks of plastic-wrapped flesh. Panicked now, not sure if I wanted to connect all the dots or unconnect them, I tried to think back over the last few months, recall any meals that had been unusually good. A few Sundays ago, we’d had a stew that really hit the spot and left me craving more. And I realised that the family had a really good night that night; my brothers behaved themselves, my parents didn’t fight, and grandma and grandad had been there. Hadn’t they looked far more… expectant than they should have?
I strained my brain, trying to recall if I’d seen the homekill bag on the kitchen bench – if I’d registered what letter it was. I knew it wasn’t an L. I would have remembered if it was an L.
And then it hit me, the memory, the connection, sizzling as if branded with a hot iron.
It had been an ‘E’.
E for Elizabeth. Not for Edward the pig.
I snorted at my own stupidity – of *course* Liz was short for Elizabeth – and as I comprehended my lack of smarts, I felt something give inside me.
I wasn’t clever, and nothing, nothing would ever make me smart. I had no big talents. I wasn’t beautiful, or even cute – and even if I had a million plastic surgeries, it still wouldn’t fulfill me. It wouldn’t be real.
I was a Liz.
I was a Jenny.
I was whoever the first aunt had been, the aunt who had dedicated her life to making her flesh as delicious as possible, who had worked every damn minute to be the best Long Pig she could ever be.
I wondered how many magical family evenings had been spent eating Aunt Jenny. How many glorious, satisfying, memorable dishes had been made out of her.
And… I wanted that. I wanted to finally know I had a *purpose* in life. One so simple, and so easy to achieve.
I wanted what Aunt Liz had.
***
It's my fortieth birthday today and I’m so fucking excited. For the last twenty-four years, I’ve dedicated myself to this moment; I’ve eaten exactly what I needed to, I’ve exercised just enough, but not too much, to maintain that perfect balance of marbling vs tenderness. I’ve relaxed and meditated to keep all those amazing flavours inside of me. I’ve researched all the greatest meats in the world, from prime Angus beef to A5 Wagyu. I really think I may have outdone myself.
I’m having my hair and makeup done at the local salon this afternoon, and I’m going to look so pretty; all prize piggy on show at the fair. I’m even going to have a big red ribbon in my hair, in memory of Aunt Liz.
Maybe there’ll be a cute boy I can snog in the wool shed, maybe there won’t – I don’t really care; because the most important, most certain thing is that I’m going to be the most delicious Long Pig in the history of our entire family.
I’m going to make everyone so damn happy, and I’m just so glad I can share my story with you all, instead of hiding it in a grubby book like poor Aunt Liz.
My only real disappointment? That you won’t get to taste me.
Reader, I have loved, loved my life. My Long Pork will be out of this world: once tasted, never, ever forgotten.

Bobbing Theory
Greetings Apes, new theory on the share offering. A little less sexy than the colorful speculation, but this theory ties in with a few of the current and past DD. (I’ll add a little tinfoil at the end).
For this theory I am going to exclude as much tinfoil as possible and also make the assumption that market makers and hedge funds are not engaging in crime but are instead (mostly) working within the rules they created to fuck the poors. While I do not agree with their rules, legal does not equate to ethical as was taught in my PhD program’s first semester ethics course, After all slavery was legal in the US.
“Bobbing” is a swimming technique that involves gently bouncing from the pool floor and practicing exhaling underwater and inhaling above the surface. In this case the dumb storm troopers (Shorts) are the ones in the pool.
There are 5 Assumptions that are made in this theory:

1. Many hedge funds are short GME and need to maintain margin.
2. The Hedge-funds are likely working together to maintain margin.
3. Margin calls are not going out or at the very least are “flexible.”
4. They still think they are going to win and have a thesis (this is important).
5. RC had a plan to stop the bobbing cycle.

I think many of us are getting the perspective wrong and I think it would benefit us think a little differently. When we are seeing these price rises, it is not about them losing control. If it was, the price would look like a phone number. This is a controlled and planned raise. The price rises accomplish two things: First it attacks retail psychology and gets us to FOMO (fear of missing out) and then (for less hardened apes) breaks moral (they want this) and second It helps them support their cost basis (SCB). This is a two step process, let’s break this down.
Retail FOMO
This helps the shorts in a few ways but it is a double edged sword. When there is no liquidity it only takes a few shares to raise the price. This creates more volatility and options prices go up and the shorts happily write the contracts. When they drive the stock price back down to near max pain they get to keep the premium. They win. They also get to keep us gambling, remember it’s not the wins that hook the gambler it’s the almost. This FOMO raises the price as they funnel orders to their dark pools and they let the price raise controlled. They then meter out the buying pressure and complete the trade after they walk them down through short laddering. The only way this hurts them is if the shares are DRS'd. That is why the volume explodes.
Supporting Their Cost Basis
It is these two processes together that make up the Bobbing Theory and, I believe explain the Dorito of doom. Each time we touch the top of that line they are grabbing margin from FOMO psychology and supporting their cost basis by raising the average price of their opened shorts. They push up to the top of the pool and take a breath of that sweet retail margin. Then they drop back down through (illegal) high frequency short laddering (slowly exhaling their margin) until they hit the bottom. Then when they need to take another breath they push off the bottom get retail to FOMO and take another breath of that sweet sweet retail margin. They do all this in addition to pumping the market and the longs they hold.
The high frequency short laddering to lower the price is why we see so much off exchange and a huge increase in volume. They are trading between themselves to lower the price without actually burning through their short shares.
The 5 Assumptions
In order for the justification for the FOMO and SCB process to make sense we need a “why", thus the 5 assumptions.
The shorts need to have two things, first enough liquidity to maintain a semblance of margin, and second, a promise (reassurance) of profits (for them and the creditors).
In this theory the hedged funds are working together and are helping each other maintain margin, thus spreading the risk. Remember, we don’t need all of them to fail, we need one of them to fail. This will cause buying back shares at any price and this is something they all desperately want to avoid or they will all get liquidated. So what do they do, they “bob” for a breath of air. The thing is they all have to “bob” when one runs low on margin (air) so we don’t know which one was close to failing. They also go to pretty extreme measures when one of them is about to fail, They do this through loans (Melvin, New York Community Bank) or taking on failing banks (UBS, Silicon valley bank). They are also not being adequately margin called (Archegos, Fed Letter to Prime Brokers). Why would you not get appropriately margin called? Because, you can still justify your short thesis (in your mind) and you have a long standing relationship with the prime brokers. Remember GME still needs to turn a decent profit and show a plan for turning around. As of now, GME keeps this plan close to chest and is experimenting.
So... If these things are true, how does RC fight the shorts and how does the share offering apply?
I’m glad you asked. RC and apes have already set the bottom of the pool. If they lower it too far apes buy and DRS the shit out of the stock and burn up liquidity they are desperate for and use for their manipulation. GME also has $100M ready to buy back shares. Ok so they can’t lower it. But they can keep milking retail right....
Not anymore. Those 45m shares are a warning to the shorts that they will need to get their liquidity elsewhere. If they try to "bob" again RC is going to sell the shares and make GME even more valuable. GME does not need the money but RC has shown that he is protecting the shareholders. If they drop the price he will buy ($100m) if they try to fleece shareholders he will sell and be the one to reap the retail margin for the good of GME not the short sellers.
That filing around the 45m share issuance was not put together, filed and approved in the few days the stock ran last week. I think it was leaked to the shorts by someone at the SEC, and the short sellers gave retail one more fleecing before RC closed the door with that filing. If they come up for air agin, he will drown them. And he will do it through the issuance of Global Shares that cannot be shorted and must be booked so that we can see them accounted for in the DRS numbers (he knows what is important to the shareholders). RC knew this was controlled otherwise there would be no reason to fuck the option chain on the announcement timing. It was already fucked, we just didn't know it yet (I mean kinda, lots of us saw that coming).
Tinfoil
You may or may not agree with this. I look at things in real broad strokes.
The SEC (generally) is on our side. I think CAT is specifically for targeting the high frequency trading the hedge funds use to short ladder between themselves. This is one of the truly illegal things they are doing, but the shorts NEED this mechanism to control the price. Without this mechanism GME runs, naked shorts or not. This is one of the things that the hedge fund cabal uses to reassure the collateral holder that everything is going to be fine, if they control the price everything is under control, if they don't........
The DTCC is kinda on our side (now). They saw/see? the writing on the wall and have made Crypto and other pumped bullshit collateral worthless because they know it is fake. They also do not want to get fucked, and are willing to let some of the bad actors take the fall even though they are also complacent. They think they are far enough removed to not get scrutiny from the public because very few even know they exist.
Last speculation, one of the justifications used to stretch this out is that if they concentrate the diamond hardened holders of GME (less people more stocks) that on average people will sell for lower prices do to their overall portfolio being worth more.
Anyway, thanks for reading if you made it to the end. And as a final note: I encourage you to DRS (Book) your shares, if you don’t and you get fucked, my conscious is clear.
See you on the moon! I’ll get the first round.
-Acatalepsy

Has anyone else experienced this? I'm 20 and about 2-3 months ago I was completely fine. I used to do 5-10 mile runs every week and worked out in the gym 2-3 times a week. Stopped this abruptly because of a very hard exam period, where i was constantly stressed and under pressure, and little sleep (4h/night). About 1 month ago this chest pain started, right in the middle of my chest. It feels like a burning constant dull ache, sometimes feeling it differently depending on the way i sit/lay down and when I flex my chest I feel the spot where it hurts.
The problem is I have bad health anxiety and very scared of hospitals. I went to 3 GPs, had EKG done and blood test, all came out clean, only my cortisol was high, which doctor (and therapist) said it was due to stress. I also have slightly high blood pressure these times (It was completely normal before. It always goes up with stress for me). My doctors keep reminding me that I am fine but I am scared if i have this constant prolonged stress and higher than normal BP my heart will wear more and it'll take years off my life. I'm very overwhelmed.
I really want to know how to stop this. It has somewhat dissapeared for 1-2 weeks during this period but other parts of my body hurt unexplainedly, such as my neck, head, shoulder, and when these went away, my chest started hurting again.
Has anyone experienced this?

This fic flows out of me way too easily, so I'm riding the waves while I can. Glad to see people enjoying it too! We continue where we left off, trying to figure out where to go, both with universe at large and with poor, lost child...
As usual, thanks to SpacePaladin15 for his own great work and letting fanfiction flow, and everyone who supported and enjoyed the fic thus far. So, let's see where this goes from now.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Dr. Erin Kuemper, SETI Researcher
Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2136
Before entering the conference room, I adjusted my dress suit. Even for official meetings, I usually just prefer simpler official outfits, but this time is different. Being invited to observe the first official diplomatic meeting between humanity and aliens, I wanted to be perfect for it, even if it was meeting the baby-eating monster aliens over a video call.
Stepping inside, I see the other people that would be present for it. Normally, as a SETI researcher, I would object to the presence of any military heads at such a meeting, on purely conceptual level, much less two. But with what we have learned I can’t help but almost feel like even entire room filled with generals wouldn’t be enough for this.
“Ah, Dr. Kuemper. Come in, take a seat. We plan to start hailing them in ten minutes.” Secretary-General motions towards one of free seats, so I take the one that’s further away from both generals. As I do though, General Jones starts talking to me.
“So, Dr. Kuemper, how’s our rescue doing? Were there any further incidents?”, she asked.
“No, not yet. She still hasn’t woken up since that last sedation. While we don’t understand nearly enough about her biology yet, drawing some parallels with biology of Earth life we can infer that while her life is no longer threatened, she will likely take a while to fully recover from blood loss and malnutrition. Much bigger problem will be communicating our intentions to her, as well as regaining her trust after... everything.”
“Is it really smart to assign Noah Williams as one of her main caretakers then?” She asked, raising her eyebrow.
“From analyzing the footage of the incident, she reacted the same way to all the humans in the room. I doubt it was Williams’ specific appearance that was the source of such intense fright. And that assignment is not just for the sake of the alien, but Williams himself. Him and Rosario are both, frankly, on suicide watch right now. They need a chance to try and do something to relieve their guilt.”
To that General Jones just hummed, before turning to the screen. I could also hear General Zhao, the Chinese general, snorting in amusement. I am not sure what he found funny about this, but I’d rather not know at all.
It wasn’t a rational call, I knew it, but if there’s anyone who can project most empathy possible towards our alien rescue, it’d be Noah. I have asked Sara if she wished to participate as well, but she struggles to even look at the child without throwing up, so for her, distancing might be for the best.
“We’re beginning to hail the Arxur Dominion now.” Secretary-General announced, standing in front of the screen, facing it. “Not sure how long it will take.”
“I bet time zones get a ton more complicated on interstellar level...” General Zhao grumbled.
Afterwards, there were long twenty minutes of silence, interrupted by an occasional cough or shuffle before finally screen shifted, and displayed the aliens. It appears they also were in a private conference room, like us. In the middle, standing tallest and looking at us was none other than Chief Hunter Isif from photos the Odyssey crew took. Behind him were two more arxur. One was similar to Isif in build and stature, though not quite as tall, and the other was notably shorter and scrawnier, with lighter scale coloration. Part of me almost assumed that was a female, before I remembered that in the data dump there were no signs of easily notable sexual dimorphism among the arxur. An adolescent then, perhaps?
“Humans. I am glad you responded to our invitation. I believe an introduction is in order. I am Chief Hunter Isif of Arxur Dominion.” The alien spoke, translators working already, translating the noises unlike anything human makes into discernable speech.
“Greetings, Chief Hunter Isif. I am Secretary-General Elias Meier. I represent the United Nations, or UN for short, a governing body meant to represent combined interests of all individual nations of Earth. Before we proceed, I need to ask. Will I not be speaking to your leader, Prophet-Descendant, today?”
That was on the agenda for the meeting, if I remembered correctly. Trying to interact with arxur other than Isif. To gauge just how far this goes. Though it doesn’t seem like it’s happening, considering Isif is the one who picked up and how now he was emitting a low hiss that almost felt like it was carrying amusement.
“No. No offense meant to you, humans, but we Chief Hunters are expected to conduct all business in our sectors on our own. You technically fall within my territory. Plus, why would I give up an advantage I have over other Chief Hunters so easily? We may not ever have war against one another, but the competition is fierce, and you might just be the edge I need to curry more favor.”
I noticed General Zhao scoffing at shameless honesty in arxur’s intentions for this ‘alliance’ they proposed in the databanks. Yeah, just use us to gain more advantage over his rivals. I can’t believe Secretary-General elected to deal with them after all.
“I see. I expected that. Still, even if we were granted an audience, our answer would have remained unchanged. Sorry to disappoint, Chief Hunter, but humanity simply cannot afford a full alliance with the Dominion.” Secretary-General spoke in neutral tone, but I could sense the strain in his voice.
The arxur on the screen had his facial features harden.
“I see. You’re still unconvinced of the prey’s threat to your unprepared world. You believe you may parlay with them.”
“Quite the contrary, we’re more than convinced and have no reason to believe you’re lying. However, while an alliance with you would grant us protection... It would also drag us into the war we wish no part of. We’re... grateful to you for showing hospitality to the crew of Odyssey, and for warning us of the threat, but we will not be diving into war we have no interest fighting.”
“You will not be able to hide forever.” Isif kept insisting, seemingly almost growing agitated. “We knew of you because they did, long before us. They may believe you dead, but all it’d take is one stray vessel for you to be doomed.”
Part of me wanted to be relieved that, despite the tense tone, the negotiations so far were going exactly as planned. Another part of me wept that we were intentionally alienating and putting distance between ourselves and the aliens. And a third part of me was disgusted at the fact that we were talking to them at all.
“Trust us, Chief Hunter, we do not plan to merely sit and wait to be discovered and exterminated. We will be preparing. We simply don’t wish to enter the fight without a good reason.” Elias continued, pushing on to the next topic. “That said, just because we don’t wish for alliance, doesn’t mean we can’t mutually benefit from one another still.”
I could see that the shorter arxur behind Isif was about to speak up, but flinched when the larger one glared at them. Isif himself narrowed his eyes at Elias.
“And what benefit do you see that isn’t us joining hands in battle for survival, Elias Meier?”
I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel Secretary-General smiling at Chief Hunter.
“Trade. Your people are, by your own admission, starving. We could provide a solution. What we lack, however, is information. In this universe, we’re blind, and just sending out probes risks discovery. If you’d be willing to supply us with intel on Federation, we’d be more than glad to relieve your hunger. Maybe not the whole Dominion... But definitely all of your sector’s arxur.”
Arxur behind Isif both slightly opened their mouths, eyes widening in almost human-like expression. Even Isif seemed to be taken slightly aback, though he composed himself much quicker, glaring at his subordinates to make them collect themselves. On our end, I could see General Zhao smirking, and General Jones tapping at her chin in contemplation, while I twiddled my thumbs nervously, waiting for rug to be pulled from under us.
“You promise a lot. Producing food in such quantities with just one planet, even if it were filled with cattle, is impossible. Simply unsustainable.” Isif replied.
“We have our ways, Isif. We solved hunger once, we can do so again. Not immediately, it will take time to ramp up production, of course... But once that happens, all you need to do is name your price in how much meat you need and we will provide. And all we want in return is information to better defend ourselves.”
There was a long pause of contemplation. When looking closely, I could see something that was either agitation... or excitement among Isif’s posse, but Chief Hunter himself remained unimpressed. Eventually he did speak up.
“Don’t think I will fall for such a trick, Elias Meier. You humans are still young, still naive to the cruelty of the universe. We were once like you, and were nearly wiped out for it. I will not have it happen to the only other True Sapient in the galaxy. I will trade information. But I can already sense what the first request will be, and you will not be getting translations for Federation languages.”
That made every human in the room except Elias tense up. I almost flinched at the accusation, Jones hid her mouth behind her hand and Zhao’s smirk turned into a frown. Only Secretary-General remained unshaken. Isif, in meantime, continued speaking.
“If you prove yourself capable of helping us, and manage to provide as much sustenance as you claim you can... I will consider it. But until then, I will not be accelerating your desire to commit extinction by Federation’s hands.”
“Then, if you need to benefit from us first before putting us at risk, we can only thank you again for your concern, Chief Hunter.” Secretary-General replied. I was surprised at how collected he remained despite the arxur completely seeing through our intentions with this ‘trade deal’. “Trust us, we have no interest in getting annihilated in antimatter fire, but we are willing to work to earn your trust. We will be sending lists of information we desire. I hope that partnership can strengthen the bonds between us further.”
“Indeed. We will review and return to you the amounts of food we will require for it. Show us what you are capable of, humans. Now let’s get this over with. Conversing like that is... tiring.”
Right. Arxur are naturally solitary, according to the databank they gave us. A species of biologically predisposed introverts...
“Farewell, Chief Hunter Isif.” Meier replied curtly, before the screen dimmed and camera light disappeared. Contact was over.
I let out a deep sigh of relief, realizing I’ve been holding it in for a while now. There... was a lot to consider about what just happened. I was told footage would be saved, so we can better analyze the arxur nonverbal cues later.
Elias turned to us and put his hands on the table.
“So, that didn’t go as bad as it could have. Any thoughts?”
General Zhao was first to speak up.
“We’ll need information on Federation tactics and weaponry. We’ll have to prepare a strong l space military regardless of whether they can be talked down, but it’s much easier to convince someone not to kill you when doing so risks their own life.”
“I’m more interested in whether there is any technology that could allow us to send spy drones into Federation space without leaving obvious trail back to us.” General Jones countered. “We might not even need arxur translators if we can decode the language via our own surveillance.”
Elias turned his eyes on me expectantly. I considered everything that happened, things Isif said and ways his presumably-lieutenants reacted to conversation, things we learned from their data bank... And it dawned on me.
“They... see us the same way we have seen them before learning of their horrid acts. First contact with someone who treats you like a person, and first people in the galaxy whom you can see as friends. We sought the stars seeking to not be alone in the universe, and while their ways are repulsive to us... It’s not true the other way. This cooperation to them is much more sentimental than it is to us. They want to be able to trust us and rely on us.”
Elias smiled and nodded at my assessment.
“Thank you for your input, everyone. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Dr. Kuemper, I hope you’re ready for tomorrow’s announcement and your promotion?”
Right. Tomorrow we’re revealing that First Contact has occurred to the public. It took a lot of effort to make it presentable without triggering mass panic, and some details will be omitted. That and I’m receiving a new position in the UN related to handling alien affairs. What a joy...
“As ready as I can be.”
“Then let’s get to it. It won’t be easy, people, but our entire civilization is at stake. We need to get this right, and in a way that won’t have our descendants condemning us.”
Right. Cooperation with arxur, this trade... I didn’t like the idea of it, but I understood. We needed their help. Perhaps through this cooperation, rather than them influencing us, reverse can be made true, unlikely as it may seem. Worst part was failing to secure any translators at all. While I’m sure generals are salivating at idea of cyber-espionage against the Federation, I just wanted to be able to communicate with the rescued child, and make sure we could properly help her recover. Still... We will do our best, even without them.
Memory Transcription Subject: Stynek, Venlil Test Subject
Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2136
Second time I woke up; the memories came to me much faster. How I was captured during the raid. How I spent months in cattle pens. How I was used as a meal for mystery predators. How they took me with them. And how I was now in their laboratory, or whatever closest thing predators have in their feral science.
Of course, my first instinct was to try and escape, but I couldn’t. I found myself actively strapped to the bed. I was panicked at first, trying to break through the restraints, but to no effect. So I let my head fall back onto surprisingly soft pillow and lay there... Awaiting my fate. But fate wasn’t coming, and I found myself getting a bit bored. So I raised my head and examined the room.
It seemed different from the room I was in before. Most of the machinery was gone, and the only big machine beside my bed wasn’t actually hooked up to me anymore. There was a large, predator-sized closet in the corner, and two big tables with seats. Of course, there was also bed itself. If not for the fact that I was slated to be butchered on this bed soon, it’d be the most comfortable place I got to lay down on since my capture. As is... It felt like cruel irony. I felt my eyes watering again. Did predators want to taunt me? Give me this sense of near-comfort as one last cruelty?
Subconsciously I tried calling out for mom, but felt my throat burn and ended up coughing instead. I think all the screaming recently wasn’t good for it, and with how dry my mouth was it didn’t help. Looking around I spotted it. A glass of water on a small stand beside the bed! Except it was completely out of reach. I tried shifting my tail under me, to try and extend towards it, but I’d need to have the bed flipped to have the chance at reaching. They probably left it like that intentionally... Letting me feel thirst, see the answer, but not be allowed to take it, all to make me suffer more.
I attempted to shift and wiggle against the restraints some more, when it hit me. It finally hit me that my leg was gone, gone for good. Even if I could somehow miraculously break those restraints... And get out of predator captivity... And make it back home to Venlil Prime... It wouldn’t be the same. I’d never live a normal life. My vision blurred with tears again. Why couldn’t they just end it... Why did... they have to make me suffer more.
Then the door opened and my heartbeat quickened. I realized just what I asked for, and looks like the universe itself wanted to give me that. Through the door stepped a figure... No longer clad in big rubbery suit. They probably realized such deception won’t work on me. But which of predators it was made my blood freeze.
It was the same one again... The dark-colored one that was there in meeting with arxur, and when I first woke up... Why was it always this one showing up over and over? Did all those predators look like that? He was wearing different outfit, maybe it was a different predator? No, it’s too similar, it must just be... assigned to me. My personal warden. Just like the pens had specific wardens assigned to them that were in charge of picking out meals.
This is it then. They must have done everything they wanted to do with me while I was unconscious and now that I was awake to feel it, were ready to finish me off. I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as the predator approached. I lost count of how many times I was anticipating death recently, but this was it... This must be it, finally, right? Universe can’t be cruel enough to do more to me, can it?
And as I waited for my demise, with held breath I lay. And lay. And waited. Until I realized that by now predator would long be within reach of my throat. I slowly opened my eyes, and blinked a few times to get the tears out. Sight of predator right beside me made me flinch, as it sat down by the bed, looking over me with its hungry, binocular eyes. I could see its mouth, lips quivering in hunger. And yet it did not lunge... Why?! Why can’t they just finish me off already? I felt so exhausted and fatigued by it all...
Predator seemed to lock its horrid eyes with my own eye. The gaze was intense, and I felt frozen. I couldn’t move, not even a muscle, as it just stared at me and I stared back. I felt a tear roll down my face, contributing more to the clump of matted fur, grown stained with so many tears. And that’s when the predator reached its hand for my head. I closed my eyes, recoiling away to the best of my ability. I... I didn’t want it... Please... Why can’t I just wake up back home, why can’t it all just be a nightmare...
I was prepared for its claw to grasp my face, to twist my neck, to scratch at me... But the only thing I felt was a small caress right under my eye, where the tear ran, wiping it off and rubbing at clumped fur, getting bits of dirt out in process. And then it was over. There was no attack. It was just more prolonging of the inevitable. It was so... tiring. I opened my eyes again, to look back at the predator. Really look back in those cruel eyes, to try and understand why the universe would have such evilness exist at all. The binocular gaze was horrible, but no amount of my instinct telling me to flee could help when I had neither the limbs nor freedom to move. So I just looked back. Into those small eyes when they suddenly blinked. And what could only be a tear rolled down the predator’s face. This made me mentally recoil.
How? Did a predator just shed a tear? But that’s... impossible. Only creatures with empathy can cry. That’s the textbook prerequisite for crying! You need to feel things to cry! Predators don’t have that! Arxur don’t have that. We learn that since before school. One of first things parents teach their kids is always the dangers of predators. But this is... Maybe it’s something in the room? Some noxious agent irritating its eyes? Then why can’t I feel it? Is it simply copying me? But why would it do that? Can you even copy something you can’t understand, like feelings? I didn’t understand. Maybe their biology was way more alien? Their skin was naked and had no fur or scales or feathers, maybe their tears are different too? I tried to find any explanation at all, any possible answer to questions swirling in my mind, but nothing made sense. It’s like this one little tear shattered everything I knew about predators. Maybe... They were different somehow? No! That can’t be it. If they were, they wouldn’t... They wouldn’t have been ones to take part in eating me! They wouldn’t deal with arxur! It’s a trick... it must be... But tears are a sign of empathy...
“W-Why...”, I asked in my confusion. My voice came out as ragged and hoarse and I was reminded of how dry my insides felt. I glanced over to the glass at the bedside, still out of reach and now with a predator near it... I stood no chance at reaching it.
Then suddenly, the predator looked over at it as well, and picked it up. I was almost about to cry at the idea that it would drink it in front of me, taunting my thirst further. But it didn’t even bring the glass close to its horrid mouth, instead moving it towards my face. Naturally, I tried pulling back from predator reach, but still restrained, I couldn’t move much. And once the glass was in front of me, predator just tilted it and... left it hovering there.
Was it... offering me a drink? Does that mean the water is poisoned? Why else would it give me some? I didn’t open my mouth, but the predator kept hovering the glass in front of me... Clear liquid inside swishing a bit with unevenness of the movements. Tantalizing... My throat felt drier just looking at it. In the end, base instinct prevailed over reason-based self-preservation. Even if it is poisoned... I was as good as dead in this den of predators, this won’t matter, and at least I’ll die not feeling as dry as a piece of old tree bark. So I let my mouth open and I raised my head as much as I could within the restraints, putting the glass’s rim into my mouth.
That first sip was probably the most heavenly water I’ve ever tasted. It was just normal water, of course, but with how dry I felt, I couldn’t get enough as I started quickly gulping it down. The predator actually helped, tilting the glass, keeping up with how quickly I emptied it. Every gulp was a relief... It was no stale water of arxur pens. It was actually fresh water! But as quickly as it started, the happiness ended, glass fully tilted and empty. I smack my mouth, gathering little bits of moisture gathered on it with my tongue, while the predator moves the glass back onto the counter.
Well, if that had poison in it, I didn’t taste any. And if it was somehow tasteless... It was worth it. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the predator and its actions, so instead I did my best to just ignore it as I savored the feeling of hydration. If I somehow live through this, unlikely though it may be, I will never scorn water again. Though I will probably still prefer some good juice over it...
The predator started moving again, removing the blanket-like sheet that was covering most of my body and reaching to where my restraints connected to the bed itself. It locked its eyes with me again, and this time it at least didn’t cry, but it did start to growl something. It was quiet and subdued, and of course I couldn’t understand any of it, but it didn’t lunge or reach for me directly and didn’t seem any different from earlier. Was it trying to say something?
Then I heard a small click. The light pressure I felt on my arms and chest from the restraints relaxed. Then the predator just tossed the restraint over me, revealing that they released me. I tested it by raising my arms slightly. Why...? Did they plan on taking me somewhere? I could try running but the feeling of lightness, of hollow emptiness where my leg used to be reminded me of how fruitless the endeavor would be, so I just kept laying in bed. The predator’s mouth curved in some wicked expression before they growled out some more of their crude words and got up.
They moved towards the exit, turning around to give me one last creepy staredown before stepping out of the room. And, unsurprisingly, I heard a soft click from the door itself. Right. I was just free to explore my new pen. But even with the freedom granted, I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. The shock of learning that a predator just shed a tear and fed me water was still too much. What is even happening?
It’s all so confusing. I grabbed the blanket and pulled it over my head, hiding in the dark. I tried to desperately convince myself to not get my hopes up, to remember what those predators did to me... But somewhere I felt like maybe things here will at least be better than they were in arxur pens. At least there’s that to comfort me. That’s right, they probably just... don’t want me to die yet because they haven’t finished experimenting on me... And the tears were just... I don’t know. It makes no sense! It’s stupid!
I let out a breath and snuggled tighter into the blanket. As long as it was dark and quiet like this, I could at least pretend that I was back home... That everything makes sense... That I am just fine... That I'll be okay...
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Hi everyone, I’m 26m and for the last 2-3 weeks I’ve been having some strange symptoms I’ve never had before. Let me first say that I currently cannot afford health insurance or a doctor’s visit (though I’ve been tempted to say screw it and go to the ER and take the hit to my credit).
Up until 1 month and a week ago I was 200 pounds and then I started a new job where the work has been more physically demanding. I’ve since lost 23 pounds after cutting sugar, carbs and junk food. I drink just water and watch my calorie count every day. 2 weeks in I was in the dairy cooler putting milk on the shelf but was working pretty fast, out of no where I had some issues breathing for a good 10-15 seconds and it scared the hell out of me. The next day J had the same issues except I wasn’t in the dairy cooler, it was after I unloaded a truck and was very overheated and didn’t drink water (more obvious to happen this time). Thankfully I haven’t had those issues since possibly because I’ve taken it much easier to avoid potentially having that happen again. My current symptoms day to day are: slight difficulty when exhaling (this has been a constant since those episodes) it generally gets worst after or during when I’m over exerting myself. Also have been getting more sinus related issues towards nightime like running nose/stuffy nose and the exhaling has made me want to cough. Mind you I don’t wheeze at all so my parents insist that I don’t have asthma but my brother had it when he was a kid.. I also have been occasionally been getting tightness in chest but always thought it was acid reflux but I would get it even if I didn’t eat anything.
I would truly appreciate any help or advice in the slightest or even if what I said sounds similar to anyone.

PT 1 PT 2
Hi everyone! Welcome. please enjoy the script!! Any questions regarding the script please message me directly, but it's okay to monetize and make gender changes, but please no major script changes! Thank you very much for reading!
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[Sounds of panic, running can be heard, soldiers moving around in a battle]
Prince: Don't look back okay? Keep running! We need to make it to the river, there's supposed to be one just through these trees!
Listener: ....
Prince: I don't know what it is, I never saw it, and I said don't look back!
Listener: ....
Prince: There's nothing we can do for them! This is their job, focus on what's in front of you or you'll die too!
[The listener trips and falls. The Prince notices after a second, and hesitates]
Prince: Shit...-
[Prince goes back and pulls the listener up]
Prince: On your feet damn it! The river is just up ahead! Can you swim?
Listener: ....
Prince: Well then I hope you're a fast learner.
[Heavy beast footsteps approaching, something is charging them]
Prince: Shit shit shit- why the hell is it following us?! Damn... it's fast! There's the river, jump, now!
[Listener jumps in]
Prince: Like fuck am I dying to you, ugly.
[Prince jumps in, and the audio fades out]
[Sounds of being underwater, muffled speech as the audio fades back in]
Prince: Hey, Silverspoon! Where the hell are you! [Prince tries not to inhale any water as they're both carried down the river, gasping for air] God damn it, I can't see anything!
[Audio fades out again, then back in]
Prince: Ugh! [Gasping] If you can hear me, try to protect your head and keep it above water! Don't fight the current!
[Audio fades out, fades back in with forest sounds and a river, as they both wash up on the river bank]
Prince: [Coughing] I... don't hear anything... I have no idea how far the river brought us, but I think it's far enough that we're safe. Are you still alive over there, Silverspoon?
Listener: ....
Prince: Alright, well stop laying in the mud then. We need to get moving. We need to find shelter, and figure out what we're doing. There’s no way of knowing exactly where we are… but the river should have carried us to the west… ughh, damn it! What the hell even was that thing?!
Listener: ….
Prince: Huh- uh, what? What’s wrong with my… oh.
Listener: ….
Prince: No, it doesn’t normally bend like that, you’re right. For once. I guess it must have happened in the river? A broken arm is going to be a little… annoying.
Listener: ….
Prince: Like I told you before, I feel nothing. It just means this arm likely isn’t going to do me much good for anything out here. I’m just glad it’s not your arm, if I had to deal with you whimpering and complaining about a sore arm, your company would be twice as insufferable as it already is.
Listener: ….
Prince: Excuse me? “Let me see your arm” oh like hell! You’d do more harm than good, your stitches were atrocious, I can only imagine what your patch job for a broken bone would be.
Listener: ….
Prince: No, I said your stitches were ‘good enough’ which is entirely different from good! Just leave me be, I’ll make a sling and that’ll do. [Sound of fabric tearing as he rips his clothes for cloth] As long as I can walk and hold a sword, I’m not concerned. Now, if you’re interested in returning to civilization, I suggest you follow me. Don’t slow me down, or I’ll leave you behind.
[A few moments of silence, and footsteps in the grass/woods/dirt as the two start walking]
Prince: Tell me if you see any animals, we’re going to need food to eat tonight. And keep an eye out for danger, I’m busy trying to make sense of where we are. I know every landmark in the kingdom, I just need to find something definitive, so I don’t have time to focus on threats as well.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yes, I expect we’ll be sleeping in the woods for at least a few days. We weren’t in a very populated area to begin with, it could be days, if not weeks until we come across something. Although, I don’t expect us to last weeks out here.
Listener: ….
Prince: I’m not a pessimist, I’m a realist. My arm is broken which is bound to take its toll eventually, and you’re bruised and cut like the average prisoner in my dungeon. Honestly I’m surprised you didn’t break anything, you’re rather delicate looking. Hold on-... where is your other shoe? You’re missing one.
Listener: …..
Prince: [The prince sighs] Alright, well that’s not going to work. Walking in one high heel is going to make you trip, especially in this terrain. Not to mention if you step on something sharp and can’t walk, you’re going to cause me a lot more trouble. Here, take mine. [The prince takes his shoes off, handing them to the listener]
Listener: ….
Prince: Don’t, just take them. It’s not out of concern, don’t fool yourself. If I hurt my feet, it won’t slow me down. You’re a different story entirely.
Listener: ….
Prince: Good. Now let’s go.
Listener: ….
Prince: I told you, I have no idea what it was. I’ve never seen a beast like that. It looked like some sort of… I don’t even know. Whatever it was, it decimated an entire troop of soldiers. I get the feeling it’s going to be a much bigger problem for me in the future. The main issue is its speed. If it weren’t for the trees slowing it down, we would have certainly died. Ah, not something to focus on now though, I suppose.
[A few moment of silence and just footsteps again]
Prince: What? Why did I save you? I don’t know, it wasn’t really my intention. Instinct, I suppose. You were there in the wagon with me, so I just acted. There wasn’t really time to think about anything. It wasn’t an act of kindness, you just got lucky. Or unlucky, seeing as this means you’re still my prisoner. Most people prefer it to being dead, not all though.
Listener: ….
Prince: Call me dramatic if you want, I don’t care. I’m only trying to give you fair warning, and keep the boundaries of our relationship completely clear. You? Prisoner. Me? Captor. Got that? Right now we’re on a temporary truce to survive a giant monster attack, so just try to make sure you don’t trick yourself into thinking I’m going to look out for you, or that we’re allies of some kind.
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re welcome to think whatever you want, but don’t start crying when you find out that you’re wrong, and get yourself hurt.
[The listener runs towards the prince]
Prince: Pfft, you’ve never been in the woods a day in your life, have you?
Listener: ….
Prince: Well you just ran at me to save you from a bug, so… oh actually you know what, that thing is giant, fair enough. There, it’s taken care of. I wouldn’t want that thing crawling on me, either. Anyway, while we’re stuck out here, I might as well teach you a few things. That way I won’t have to do everything myself. Once I kill us something for dinner, I’ll teach you how to skin and prep it properly. And collect water, that’ll be important too. We’ll go over the basics when we make camp for the night.
[Scene fades out]
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[Scene opens with sounds of a crackling campfire and nighttime ambience]
Prince: You did okay. The shelter hasn’t tipped over yet, and this rabbit isn’t burnt or raw, so that’s a moderate success. Next one we catch, we’ll see if you were paying attention to my ‘introduction to game prep’ crash course. Once the dew forms in the morning, we'll collect it off the big leaves of the trees around here. Not much left to do now. Ugh, I’m exhausted. Maybe I’ll just sleep for a few days and deal with the rest later… oh, right, gotta take- wait.
[The prince rifles through his bag, looking for his medicine. The sound of broken glass shards clicking together is heard, and rifling suddenly stops]
Prince: …damn it. I should have checked my bag sooner… ugh!
Listener: ….
Prince: Uh n-no, it’s nothing. Mind your own business! I… we… need to get back to civilization as soon as possible. Back to the palace.
Listener: ….
Prince I told you before, don’t ask me about it. The only thing you’re serving to do with that is piss me off.
Listener: ….
Prince: It’s not a big deal. In fact it’s no concern at all. I don’t even need it! I don’t think so, at least. I- ugh, didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?
Listener: ….
Prince: Do not call me hornet prince. Look, I would never tell you anything relating to a weakness of mine, because that’s a good way to have them exploited. You may be stupid, but surely you can understand the value of keeping your secrets?
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re… sick? What are you talking about?
Listener: ….
Prince: You… are you saying that because of what I said? Being frail and ill since childhood isn’t all that uncommon, but that explains why you seem so easily exhausted. I mean you looked like you were about to collapse before we jumped in the river, and we only ran for a couple of minutes. I don’t care, though, let me be clear. You sharing a weakness doesn’t really count if you have no strength to stand on anyway.
Listener: ….
Prince. I guess you did at least survive being swept down a river, but I don’t know if I’d classify the state you’re in as ‘well’.
Listener: ….
Prince: You can give up trying to gain my trust, it’s not going to happen. Besides, you just admitted you were lying to me when I found you on the road. Sneaking away from your family is not the story you relayed to me then. Whatever, doesn’t matter now.
Listener: ….
Prince: Ah, now I see. This is your plan to get me to let you look at my arm, hm?
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re not as clever as you think. You’re not very clever at all, honestly, from what I’ve seen. Well, I suppose we’ll be sharing a sleeping space tonight anyway, so… fine. If you try anything, there will be a sword sticking into your chest before you can blink. That’s your only warning. Anyway… here.
[The prince extends his arm, letting the listener check it out]
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Prince: Huh… you know, I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to know how to set a bone. Your needlework said you didn’t have much doctoring experience, but maybe I’m just used to experts. The doctors in the castle are typically trying not to leave scars, but your stitching is holding well. Where did you learn all this?
Listener: ….
Prince: You… learned by patching up your brothers? Didn’t you have servants to do that for you? And what the hell were your brothers doing as children to require that much medical attention-? Actually forget I asked, I don’t actually care. This will do fine, in any case.
Listener: ….
Prince: If you’re looking for a thank you, it’s not coming. I’m going to sleep now, I’m tired, and talking to someone so boring isn’t helping that.
[The prince stands, walks over to the shelter they built, and the listener follows him. He crawls in and lays down, once again followed by the listener]
Prince: Do your best not to touch me during my sleep, if you startle me, I might end up stabbing you. I’m sure you’d like to avoid that, and I’d like to avoid getting my clothes any bloodier. Stay strictly on your side of the shelter, and we won’t have an issue.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yeah, so what if you get cold? Not my problem, go cuddle a bear or something.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yeah… goodnight, Silverspoon.
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Hope you liked PT 3 of the script! The prince has a cannon name. I thought it might be fun to have people guess what it might be. If you have a guess, please feel free to comment it! A hint is, it has something to do with a general of the distant past. Either way, do you think I should add his name to the script eventually, or keep it blank? I may even leave it up to a creator by creator basis, who knows! Either way, I think an air of mystery is really fun so I include that a lot, but I also really like to give my characters names, haha. Anyway, thank you for reading!

Hello , I’m 35 and a cannabis smoker. Never ever cigarettes. ( although as of right now/ recently ) I’m not smoking anything. I started smoking about 10 years ago and never had any problems. In 2016 I had a really bad cold and ended up needing a rescue inhaler. Every now and then I would get a bronchospasm and need the inhaler but it was very intermittent and I was still able to do pretty much whatever I wanted, including exercise, figure skating, etc. I could even smoke and dab with no need for an inhaler. It was pretty much only when I would get a cold or the weather would be weird. I live in Alaska ( our air is very dry) anyways I’ve noticed the past month I’ve been needing my inhaler a lot more even without smoking, which is concerning because whenever I take breaks from smoking my need for an inhaler is non-existent however, this time is different. I don’t have a persistent cough. It’s mostly in the mornings and my phlegm is clear and honestly there’s not much. I do sometimes wake up in the morning feeling tight chested and in need of my inhaler. Lately it’s been more than usual. I did do a pulmonary test last year and they didn’t tell me anything alarming. All they said was that I should continue to take breaks every now and then. As of now Ive needed my inhaler after a long walk with kids and having to carry my 5 year old off an on during the walk. I had a little chest pain but no other symptoms . And that was only after coughing to remove phlegm from my lungs. Is this the start of COPD?

Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger. — Runecrafting is slow burn. — What to Expect: - Weak to very strong progression - Hardcore wish fulfillment - A balance of action, kingdom building, and runecrafting. - MC will trigger an industrial revolution, revolutionize magic, modernize agriculture, communication, commerce, textile production, education, transportation, sanitation, weapons manufacturing, leisure & entertainment, and medicine.
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Chapter 04

-1-
Ethan's heart thumped in his throat as he looked at the arrow's head glinting. Fortunately, Roland had grabbed it in an instant. The arrow hadn't hit Ethan, and it likely wouldn't have. Roland threw the arrow aside as Ethan heard a muffled grunt and glanced out the window to the right. An arrow had pierced the side of their driver, right between the shoulder and chest. Ethan whipped back into his seat just as another projectile smashed against the other side of their carriage, denting it. Roland immediately stood up with a calm demeanor and unsheathed his sword. "Lord Theodore, please remain seated. This inconvenience will be dealt with shortly."
Ethan blinked up, nodded, and clasped his hands around his knee while resting his head against the window ledge as Roland got out. Situations such as this weren't anything he'd ever dealt with back on earth, but he had plenty of experience keeping himself in check when fear took hold. He'd been a boxer, after all. Ethan tapped his finger on his knee, again and again.
"Die, you shits!" a voice yelled, then a meaty crash was followed by a pained groan. It was clearly someone falling over. Moments later, footsteps approached from the other side. A man swung the carriage door open. "Get—"
Before he could say much else, a sword pierced through his chest. He slumped and hit the ground without a word, revealing Roland standing with a blank expression. His eyes were different than anything Ethan had seen since his transmigration—Roland looked nonchalant even after taking a life, which was understandable given that the man had likely taken a lot of lives. Ethan closed his eyes, refusing to look at the dead body.
More footsteps grew nearer. Two sets. They stopped beside their carriage. "Well fuck, what a piece of trash." one man said, then lurched at Roland with a bloody shout.
The fight was over in an instant.
Roland simply disappeared from his position before Ethan. Reappearing behind the two bandits flanking him, he delivered an equally lethal strike to each in turn. Simultaneously, a sharp crackling and whooshing sound made Ethan tense. Spreading out on the floor before the carriage, a dark blue magical glyph buzzed like electricity, sending sparks of electricity slamming into the bandits.
Then, the bandits' bodies split in two halves, their blood sprayed across the dirt before they even began collapsing with electricity sizzling on their bodies.
Just as he'd felt movement in the air through [Magic Perception], a man materialized right in front of Ethan. Tensing, Ethan didn't know what to do
Roland shouted from outside. Adrenaline rocketed through Ethan's veins. Hand moving, he grabbed the bandit's hand and twisted it. The bandit tackled him, and with the tight space, Ethan felt the tip of a knife nicking the side of his cheek. The wound stung badly, and with it, Ethan's mind blanked and his instincts kicked in.
Roland swiftly spun, but not in time to stop the man from pinning Ethan against the bench.
However, it wasn't needed. Ethan used [Elemental Spells] and summoned fire all over his palms. A sizzling sound erupted as the bandit cried out and went for Ethan's eyes with his free hand. Ethan bit the bandit's hand, and only got half a mouthful of skin and cloth. The bandit reeled back and leapt backward from the sudden burning pain, crying out as he crashed. Ethan lunged at him, grabbed and force-flipped the bandit's hand, and plunged the knife into his throat with an aggressive grunt. There was a short, gurgled cry, before the bandit tried swinging the knife towards him. "Cunt... bastard..." his bloody mouth formed the words, his eyes staring fearfully, but Ethan pushed the knife aggressively.
Blood sprayed and gushed onto Ethan's mouth.
Then, finally, the man stilled.
The corpse's weight fell onto Ethan, hot blood spilling out of the bandit's throat and filling the air with an acrid odor. Ethan felt it on his face. Hot. Metallic smell. He saw it dripping down the bandit's throat, all across his clothes, even in his hair. It was heavy, almost. Layer upon layer, the heavy cloak of the man's life weighting down on his spirit.
System notifications flashed but he ignored it given that bile rose in Ethan's throat. His vision darkened, and a rush of blood roared in his ear as his heart thumped like thunder. A violent urge to vomit rose within him, his entire body twitching. He had never seen a man die in front of him like this before. Disgusting as it was, he gulped everything down, even the reality he had found himself in, the death, the violence, it all set in at that moment. However, he had no time to delve on it. Even though he felt like someone had squeezed his windpipe, like a bullet was tearing through his skin, he needed to act. Now.
Ethan flipped the man aside and sat on his knees, pulling out the knife from the bandit's neck. From his place on the ground, he glanced at Roland engaged with three bandits.
One slipped past Roland and made it to Ethan. They're trying to get a hand on me. Why? The answer was simple. Oh, right... I'm a noble, they can just put a knife on my throat and demand shit...
Instead of giving the bandit the upper hand, Ethan took a breath. Once. Twice. Now or never, thinking so, he raised the knife and dove headfirst toward the approaching enemy. Caught by surprise, the bandit merely moved his free hand to counter attack. His fingers grasping the bandit's arm, he twisted it away, giving him room to go straight for the eye.
With a meaty sound, Ethan plunged the knife through the man's eyes. Blood spurted with a slick sound. The bandit wasn't fast enough to make a full reaction, as a sort of instinctive scream of terror got stuck halfway and died out. Then, as the feeling of having ended another life settled within him, Ethan retracted the dagger and stepped back. His back slamming against the carriage, he slid down and pressed a hand against his forehead. His cheek hurt. He smelled sweat and blood.
Fuck... Fuck... Breathe. This is... I can't... Breathe.
A chill ran down his spine and his heartbeat roared. He took a breath, adrenaline still surging through his veins. The sick feeling didn't leave his stomach, his entire body twitched as if electrocuted every once in a while, and his eyes started going hazy, unclear. Black spots in his field of vision. Sticky warmth all over. Hot metallic odor in his nostrils.
"Lord Theodore!" Roland's voice acted as a way for Ethan to reorient himself into reality. Roland looked ashen, not because he was tired but most likely because he'd let Ethan get into such a vulnerable position. Roland glanced at the corpse, then Ethan, then back at the corpse again, looking tense, lips tight and hands clutched into fists. "Are you alright, my lord?"
"Yes, of course," Ethan said as he studied the wound on his cheek. I need a healing skill. However, he noticed the visible distressed Roland was having and continued. "I'm fine. Don't worry. It's no big deal. For the moment, we need to clean up this mess."
Ethan could tell Roland was uncomfortable with the situation and Ethan's complete indifference, but the warrior dutifully obeyed his lord's commands. Ethan slumped onto his seat and looked through the notifications.
Your race, [Human], has leveled up — Lvl 0 -> Lvl 1!
Your class, [Mage], has level up — Lvl 0 -> Lvl 1!
[Unranked Mage] -> [Initiate]
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 5 -> Lvl 6!
A [Quest] approaches!
Hmm, this is the second time I see the message 'A [Quest] approaches'... What is it? Why doesn't the system just give me the [Quest]? Are there conditions? Regardless, it seems that [Elemental Spells] just needed some use in battle instead of just plain old practice. Curious.
Ethan leaned back with a sigh. Now that his heartbeat wasn't drumming in his ear, the fear slowly ebbed away. All things considered, this turned out well, given the situation. However, now that he'd calmed somewhat, his eyes landed on the corpse right beside him, and that fresh scarlet blood seeping into the floorboards. The heavy coppery scent, the unmistakable smell of death. It all came crashing into him and he could no longer deny what he'd done. It had all gone so quickly.
No theatrics, the knife had just flown in, and the bandit had struggled, then stopped struggling.
Ethan stared at the corpses. With his hands on his lap, he gazed vacantly. For a single, stretched-out moment, the only thing he was aware of were the lifeless bodies right next to him, the sensation of having one less enemy standing in the way. One of the bandits had his jugular slashed. Another had a knife poking into his eyes. Ethan had killed them. Him. It was nauseatingly easy, taking another's life. It felt good. Ethan was disgusted at that thought, but damn did it feel good. I—I... I won. He wanted to grin, but he didn't.
Soon, the bandits were dealt with. Not a minute was wasted, and they cleaned up and got moving in a hurry, before Roland could throw the corpse inside the carriage out, Ethan stopped him.
He'd been staring at it, sitting there, silently. Bile would rise to the tip of his throat before he'd swallow it, a stone in his gut making his movements stiff. It felt unreal. When he took that step to make sure the bandit was dead, his eyes met with those of the corpse—with glassy black pupils that appeared frozen mid-realization that he was dying. Fearful, horrified eyes. Human eyes. Ethan stared into them, felt every fiber of his body clench, saw the smears of blood across the man's mouth where his desperate breaths had made him cough up, to live.
Ethan stared, not because he was a masochist or someone who derived pleasure from other people's misery. Rather, it was because he wanted this to never happen again. His reaction. It hadn't been optimal. He just knew he'd need to kill and spill blood if he was to survive, and thus, he needed to familiarize himself with the sight of death—death caused by his hands.
His thoughts were a little less orderly than he liked. That needed to change, fast. It would always be a burden, so he simply chose to stare, knowing he was staring down his weakness—at his fear.
After a solid five minutes, Ethan turned around. Roland's gaze met Ethan's. For a brief moment, the gaze was averted, the warrior showing clear guilt. Ethan placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Roland, don't blame yourself. I understand you must have felt cornered and unable to react. Just know I appreciate you. Don't beat yourself up for it. There have been no casualties on our side."
Roland bowed his head. Ethan smiled, though it was strained. Roland had been standing there for a while now but hadn't wanted to interrupt Ethan's self-reflection time, despite being tense himself. The guards had burned the corpses. Soon, the men Ethan killed were taken out, too. Then they left for the woods.
A guard who appeared to be a [Mage] that had a spell called [Cleanse] walked to the carriage, and placed his hands near the gore-splattered interior. In mere moments, a rune flickered into existence, then, mana got sucked out of the guard, seeping into the rune—soon, the blood and even the smells were swept clean and everything returned to being a neat and tidy.
The guard staggered a little before his comrades stabilized him. Must be quite demanding, Ethan noted, nodding appreciatively as the guard stepped out of the carriage. "That's quite the useful skill," Ethan said, examining the results.
Roland gave a silent nod, no doubt feeling pretty damn bad about his failure.
The guard, on the other hand, bowed with a smile, clearly appreciating Ethan's recognition. "It's a pleasure to be of service, my lord. This humble guard has had this skill ever since he became a mage."
Ethan made an impressed noise. "I see."
The guard beamed, then bowed even more before walking over to his fellow guards, who patted his backs at a job well done. Then, the horses pulled the carriage, and the carriage resumed moving. As soon as his back had settled into the cushion of the seat, an exhausting wave rolled over Ethan's body.
Before everything, however. I saw the rune. Ethan grinned a little, then willed mana into the shape of the rune.
It sputtered.
Ethan tried again, connecting different parts of the rune. One. Two. Three. Four. And as the rune sputtered again.
Throughout the journey to Deadwoods, Ethan kept at it.
He failed every time—
—and he didn't know why.
An immense headache assaulted him, and he had to stop his attempts.
-2-
The Deadwoods proved to be just what he'd expected. Dead. Charred branches and crumbling trees lay spread throughout. Roland looked around solemnly. Ethan was more interested in what kept this place the way it was. This land was, to put it simply, the most horrific location in the entire barony. It was a huge portion of a forest that appeared to be dead, thus why it had gotten the name Deadwoods.
Leaves crunched underneath Ethan's feet, and he studied his surroundings with morbid curiosity. The trees, branches and leaves were all dark in color as if something had scorched them. Many creatures lived here, animals like the usual game of deer, wolves, and foxes and sometimes there'd even been bears spotted. The dangerous thing, however, wasn't that the animals existed, it was that they were magical beasts. Mutants.
"Lord Theodore," Roland said, hand on his sword, eyes darting around in caution. "It is dangerous to be here—"
"Peh." Ethan waved his hand nonchalantly, much to Roland's shock at such an uncharacteristic behavior. "It will be worth it."
After all, I'm gonna have fun hunting monsters, leveling up, and finally, finally finding some goddamn tree ash.
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"We're your mates." Mates? Six mates? How could it be?! "Wait a minute... you said all of you. That's not how mates work. Fated mates are two people, not an entire harem." I hissed as I shook my head. "This conversation is ridiculous because it's not real." Silence filled the space between us for several long seconds. "You really want us to leave?" My stomach twisted at his words. We just met, and yet he sounded devastated as he asked the question. I silently cursed myself for causing the change I heard. If I was a better person, I would say something else. "Yes." "Fine, we'll leave, but only on one condition. Buss each one of us. Then, if you feel nothing, we'll walk out of here without protest." ———————— I would die in this very spot, and no one would have a clue. Six hours... I'd been trapped under this pile of random things for six hours. My hips and back ached from how long I'd been stuck in this exact position. I'd tried everything I could think of, but the massive pile of unknown stuff never moved. Something heavy had landed on my back, keeping me pinned face down on scattered newspapers and the occasional book. How did I know there were books when I couldn't see them? Because of the sharp corners stabbing into me. If that level of depressing suckage wasn't enough, I had to pee. My bladder hurt... felt like it was about to burst. Because of course, the first time I decided to drink spirits, I'd end up faced and trapped under a pile of a hoarder's treasure. To relieve some of the pressure off my cheek, I dug my shoulder into the newspaper floor and tilted my head until my forehead pressed against the mess underneath me. The small amount of relief I felt from the change of position was enough to stop me from going insane. For now. Ding dong. "You've got to be shitting me." I grumbled into the ancient newspapers. Someone at the door wouldn't matter. I couldn't get off the floor... erm, pile of stuff that acted as a floor, to answer the door. Whoever was on the other side would eventually think someone wasn't home and leave. And so would my only chance at being rescued. "Ha." I couldn't stop the sarcastic laugh from escaping. Even if they did come in, whoever they were wouldn't want to sign up for this insanity. I didn't even want to deal with this nightmare my life had become. Thanks mom. Ding dong. Ding dong. Who rang the doorbell multiple times? Seriously, just go away and let me die. Sure, I would be in the hall of shame for dumb ways to go, but I'd already accepted my fate. Not only would I die in one of the most embarrassing ways in history, I'd go with the dullest life experiences. Why? Because I'd always done what I was supposed to do... every single expectation my parents had, I jumped at the chance to please them. I was an idiot. A boring, lame, not once destined to save the world, sheltered little girl that grew in an inexperienced woman. My life was pathetic. "Parker, are you okay?" The deep voice sent shivers through me. I imagined this unknown man growling in my ear. Then my senses came back to me. While I was on the verge of being crushed to death, someone had broken into my house. Great, just what I needed. Good luck mister robber. If you can find anything valuable, then you deserved it. The logical side of my brain caught up to current events. First thing, a robber wouldn't call out my name as he broke into my house. Second, I didn't know anyone with a voice so delicious... uh, I meant distinct. Yeah. Should I respond or hope they gave up and left? My mother would have insisted I remain silent. Her voice slid through my memory. "Men were a distraction to a woman's career." I rolled my eyes at the phrase she'd said throughout my childhood and even after I'd moved out on my own. If I was going to leave this world, it would be after doing something ridiculous. I'd call the man with the delicious voice over, then I could die from embarrassment. "I'm over here!" What I'd intended to be a shout came out more as a breathy moan. I barely had room to breathe. It seemed shouting was impossible. A burning hot pain shot through my neck as I tried to turn my head to see the footsteps that approached. Nope, that wasn't going to happen. My mysterious, silver tongued hero or burglar's looks would have to remain a mystery just a bit longer. "Over here!" Just like last time, his voice made me shudder. With a voice like that, the man had to be hot. I hoped he had a beard... and tattoos. Not only would it make my mother roll in her grave, I'd always loved looking at burly, tatted up, bearded guys. Add in hair that was long enough to pull and I couldn't think of a good reason to ever leave the house. The crushing weight finally lifted off me. I sucked in a deep breath, then immediately regretted it as I choked on the oxygen. My lungs seized as the rush of air shocked them. Hands grabbed my arms and shoulders, then the world tilted as they lifted me to my feet. I bent over and grabbed my knees as my equilibrium spun. Hands patted my back, helping me calm. Actually, there were more than two hands. I counted enough to equal three people. When I got my breathing under control, I dared follow the black boots that stood at the top of my vision. My gaze slid up, taking in black cargo pants that rode low on a pair of hips. Further up, a black tactical vest contained... bottles of cleaning solution. What the heck? The moment I went full vertical, my balance tilted again. I stepped back to catch myself. In front of me stood a massive man, the kind I had to look up to just to catch a view of his chin... his bearded chin. My fingers itched with the need to touch it. I didn't. It would be weird to stroke a hot stranger's beard. Wouldn't it? I shook my head. Of course it would be weird. I turned, taking in the four men and one woman standing all around me. The sound of newspapers sliding preceding my right foot slid out from underneath me. The giant of a man caught me before I fell on my hips in front of everyone. They all wore similar black tactical gear with cleaning supplies. Colorful bottles of solution, a duster, a roll of trash bags, and... was that a broom and a mop with shoulder straps? Who were these people? "Parker, are you okay?" The deliciously deep voice asked from behind me. After a few tries, I accepted the fact that I was speechless. My brain nudged at me, telling me I'd missed a crucial detail. Every brain cell misfired as I looked them over again. Correction, five of them wore black tactical gear. Every single one of them was drop dead gorgeous, and it made me feel out of place. One of the guys stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest. I blinked. No, that couldn't be right. I blinked again, but the sight stayed the same. A man stood taller than those closest to him. Peeking over his crossed arms was a ruffled white fabric with black lace woven through it and tied in a bow. There was even a small scattering of chest hair sticking over the edge. The hem of the skirt ended well above his knee, revealing a tattoo that covered his entire right thigh. My gaze traveled up to his face. A plush black beard contrasted with the skimpy maid's outfit he wore. "I..." Words failed me again. I gestured to the man whose outfit didn't fit the others. He rolled his eyes as he tightened his grip on his arms. "They thought it would be funny to prank me. Did you know, not only did they buy this ridiculous outfit, they stole the rest of my clothes, so I'd have to wear this?" "Uh, no. I don't even know who all of you are." For whatever reason, it hadn't dawned on me that all these incredibly attractive people were standing in my house. Like inside, where they could take in the horror of what my mother left me to inherit. Mortification slammed into me. They'd seen the awful mess. "You all need to leave." "Parker?" The burly man's voice from behind me caught my attention. He waited until I turned around to continue. "You don't remember asking us to come here, do you?" Ice slid down my spine. I'd been pretty drunk last night, but since I'd never had spirits before and I'd decided to take shots of everything in my mother's 'social hour' cabinet, I wasn't even surprised I'd woken up with a hangover. "How much did you have to drink last night?" "Seeing how I'm awake now, apparently not enough. Who are you, and how do you know me?" The man bared his teeth at me, making a sound that I could only describe as a hiss. "Never again. From now on, if you need something, you ask us." I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. "Why would I ask you anything?" "Because we're your mates." Hard stop. Mates? A giddy feeling in my belly told me he didn't mean a friend. I held a finger up for him to give me a minute. A sharp pain slid through my abdomen, reminding me I had yet to relieve myself after my drunken night of mistakes. One of the other men spoke up. "I know it's a lot to take in, and you're probably really confused, but we are all your fated mates." I'd read enough werewolf romance novels to know what they meant, and they were dead wrong. Shifters weren't real. "Yeah mate, tell us what you need, and we'll get it for you." "I need to pee." And with that, I stomped out to the nearest bathroom and locked myself inside. Why wouldn't the ground open and swallow me whole? I sat on the bathroom floor with my back propped against the wall and hugged my legs to my chest as I rested my forehead on my knees. Not only had people witnessed the horror I lived in, but they had to be the hottest people in the world. Even the woman had made me look twice and left me shoving a deeper desire I refuse to even consider right now. Knock, knock. "Parker?" It was the giant of a man's voice. Why couldn't they leave so I could be alone? "Go away." I heard sounds on the other side of the door that sounded like he'd sat on the floor. "Come out and talk to us." I pressed my forehead against my knee harder, trying to ignore the giant bearded intercourse god. "Or, just talk to me. We're worried about you." My chest seized as I forced myself to take a deep breath. Irrational anger surged inside of me. Why didn't they understand I didn't want them here? "You don't even know me." The sound of his deep chuckle sent a warm wave of desire through me. Stupid hormones. "Twenty-four hours ago, I would have agreed with you. After last night, I feel like I know you on a level most others never will." What did I do last night? I still couldn't remember what I'd done. I swore to myself I'd never drink again. "It was all lies." "Why are you trying to push us away? What would be so wrong with letting someone in to help for once?" Memories of my parents’ fighting came back to me. It was my tenth birthday. When my dad found out my mom bought a cake for my birthday, he'd attacked her. Everything was a blur until he'd pinned her against the wall. She held a knife to his crotch and threatened him. He'd left and never returned that day. My mind shut down, preventing me from thinking about it any longer. "Because I can't afford to pay you and no one does anything out of the kindness of their heart." I couldn't keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice as I said it. "Parker, you're missing a vital part of this dynamic." Silently, I chanted over and over for him to not use the word mates again. It couldn't be real. Paranormal romance novels weren't real... neither were shifters nor the perfect person walking into my life and devoting themselves to me. That was a fairytale, not reality. "Mates. Just to see a smile cross your lips, I'd clean this entire property. Throw in the others, and we'd do anything to see you happy." He tapped something on the door. "I can scent your annoyance through the door." "Wait a minute... you said all of you. That's not how mates work. Fated mates are two people, not an entire harem." I hissed as I shook my head. "This conversation is ridiculous because it's not real." Silence filled the space between us for several long seconds. "You really want us to leave?" My stomach twisted at his words. We just met, and yet he sounded devastated as he asked the question. I silently cursed myself for causing the change I heard. If I was a better person, I would say something else. "Yes." "Fine, we'll leave, but only on one condition. Buss each one of us. Then, if you feel nothing, we'll walk out of here without protest." I banged my head on my knee. That wouldn't work. They weren't even in the room with me and I already felt things. No way could I buss even one of them without having a reaction. "No." "Is that because you already know what I'm saying is true, or are you just being stubborn?" Before I could think about why he had said it, I jumped up and threw the door open to glare at him. "Are you always a jerk?" The confidence disappeared as I looked up into his eyes. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled it closed behind me, pushing me against him in the process. His gaze locked on mine as he lowered his head until we were almost bussing. "Never, but I'm not above riling you up to help give you the boost you need to confront a situation with confidence." Now that he was so close, I couldn't remember why I'd locked myself in the bathroom. Everything around us disappeared except the door his hard body pressed me against. His free hand caressed my cheek. "Can you genuinely tell me you don't feel the bond trying to form between us?" I clamped my jaw closed. If I didn't admit it out loud, then it wasn't real, but he was right. I could feel a... connection to him and the others. It didn't make sense, and I might not want it, but was most definitely there. His lips brushed against mine ever so slightly, sending a wave of fire through me. I gripped the straps of his black tactical vest to pull him closer, but he didn't budge. He chuckled as he moved from my lips to my ear. "Mate, if I buss you, I won't stop until you're mine. It might not be today or tomorrow, but I will claim you and make you mine." "And if I say we're not mates?" "Your mouth might lie, but your body and soul can't." I heard him inhale deep at my neck. "I can smell your need to claim me. It fills my senses until it's all I can think about. I've just found you and already you've consumed my entire world." It was bizarre, but I completely understood what he meant. Somewhere deep down inside of me, the idea of kicking out even one of them left me feeling raw. Six mates... and one of them was a woman. I'd known I was attracted to both genders from a young age, but I'd always locked that part of me away. My mom flipped at the idea of me dating a single man. I couldn't even fathom how hard she was rolling over in her grave at having six lovers. It was so much to process. "Come on, let's go back to the others." His voice pulled me back to reality. "Not yet." Suddenly, I didn't want to move. When I felt his body pull back, I gripped his vest tighter. My gut twisted as I decided to throw a lifetime of caution out the window. "buss me." He growled deep in his chest as his hands slid down my sides until he cupped my hips. A squeal of surprise escaped me as he lifted me up, then held me against his chest as he pressed me against the door. "You're mine... ours." Then his buss consumed me, mind, body, and soul. It felt as if our life forces bonded together. The mere thought of letting go of this man became too much. It was in that moment I realized I'd screwed up. I'd never be able to give him up, or the others, without ripping my own heart from my chest. I regretted so much in my life. What was one more? I sank my hands into his hair, gripping it at the roots, and tilted his head back. Our buss broke. A smug satisfaction slid through me when I realized he was breathing as hard as I was, but I wasn't done throwing out stupid rules my mother had forced on me. I pulled his head until I'd exposed his neck. The edge of a tribal tattoo peeked out under his shirt. I trailed the tip of my tongue along the dark lines, then bussed a trail along his neck. He moved until only one hand cupped my hips. His other hand caressed the back of my neck, urging me to do whatever I wanted to him. I tightened my legs around his waist, lifting myself higher as my busses moved along the edge of his beard. "That is hot." Another man's voice made it through my lusty fog. "Yeah, can't wait until it's my turn." Someone else said. I pulled back and realized my five other mates were watching us make out. All of them had a hunger in their eyes I'd never seen before...

Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger. — Runecrafting is slow burn. — What to Expect: - Weak to very strong progression - Hardcore wish fulfillment - A balance of action, kingdom building, and runecrafting. - MC will trigger an industrial revolution, revolutionize magic, modernize agriculture, communication, commerce, textile production, education, transportation, sanitation, weapons manufacturing, leisure & entertainment, and medicine.
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Chapter 01

-1-
Ethan’s fists pounded the punching bag, sending a rapid series of jabs that landed with resounding thumps, each strike punctuated by ragged breaths. Sweat dripped from his brow, stinging his eyes, but he refused to stop, refused to surrender to the burning in his muscles or the rawness of his knuckles. He remained focused on punching.
Around him, the rest of the boxing team rested, even the coach looked like he needed a breather. But Ethan couldn’t afford to slow down—not with the first round of eliminations looming.
More, Ethan thought, his muscles burning as he threw another combination of jabs and cross punches. More, more, more.
Boxing had never been his choice; it was a path forced upon him by a father with unfulfilled dreams. Yet somewhere along the way, the thrill of the fight had ignited a fire within Ethan—a primal need to test the boundaries of his endurance, to feel alive in a way no textbook could provide.
But now his father lay dying in a hospital bed, and Ethan was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. His muscles burned and his knuckles were raw. But he couldn’t stop.
“Oy, mate, you should take a break.”
Jacob’s voice cut through Ethan’s reverie, and he turned to face his friend, chest heaving. “I can keep going. I’m fine.”
Jacob shook his head, concern etched across his features. “You’re going to end up hurting yourself. Listen, I know you’re worried about the eliminations and your dad, but you’ve got this. You’ll be fine. You’ve trained so hard. Harder than any of us, mate.” Jacob placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It’s not enough,” Ethan stepped away from the punching bag. “Not yet.”
“What do you mean? You’ve improved a ton since you first started, and you’ve gotten to this level faster than anyone else. There’s no way you’re getting cut from the team.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Ethan said, sighing as he ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.
“Listen, man,” Jacob said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I get that you’re nervous. It’s normal, okay? But I’ve seen you out there. You’re good. Really good. If anything, the rest of us are the ones who should be worried—”
Before Jacob could continue, Ethan’s phone rang, the sound loud in the otherwise silent gym.
Looking at his phone made him frown and excuse himself. The caller ID was a familiar one. With his phone pressed against his ears, he walked down the corridor, leaving the other members of the boxing team behind.
“Hello?” Ethan said into the phone.
Then, his world tilted on his axis.
-2-
Ethan hated funerals.
It was a strange thing to say, and yet, there he was, thinking that exact same thing as he stood at the side, watching as a small crowd gathered around. The smell of freshly turned earth was thick in the air, along with a heavy dose of sorrow and grief. Or maybe that was his imagination; after all, most were likely putting on a show. A wake that lasted all of ten minutes. A quick eulogy. The final plop of dirt onto the polished wood coffin. Then they were gone. Just like that, they were gone.
His father’s funeral was over just like that.
Ethan waited a while longer after all the mourners had dispersed, then finally turned to look at his mother. His mother sat slumped in the front pew of the church; her gaze fixed on the ground. He sat beside his mother silently. She looked older today, like all the fight and life had just seeped from her body. They didn’t speak a word for the longest while, but finally, his mother broke the silence.
“Do you blame me?”
“No,” he said automatically.
You do, a small voice said in the back of his head. Because maybe, if they hadn’t sent him away, he could’ve pursued his dreams...
“Thank you,” his mother said, the relief in her eyes far too apparent. She wrapped her arms around herself. Her hands trembled. She swallowed audibly before she continued. “I was such a stupid little girl when we married. I had no choice but to leave for Dubai because...”
“You don’t need to explain anything.” Ethan looked down at his knuckles. “I understand.”
“He always blamed himself,” she said suddenly, and Ethan frowned. “For not just letting you into civil engineering. For pressuring you into, well, violence.”
Ethan smiled wryly, staring up at the empty rafters overhead.
Such violence, Ethan, a voice whispered into his ears. Focus on your studies, not on hurting people. You’ll have a bright future, I’m sure of it.
Ethan sighed as he felt the memory rise unbidden in his mind. It wasn’t the first time his mother had spoken to him like that, and it wouldn’t be the last.
You can’t always rely on your fists, she would say. Sometimes, words are all you need. They can change lives, even save lives. They can be the difference between a happy life and a miserable one. Remember that.
Yeah, well, she failed to see it wasn’t hurting people he was after, but pushing himself beyond his limits. To prove to himself that he could. To feel the limits of his body, and surpass them.
To feel alive.
“Your father wanted the best for you,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Ethan gave his mother a sad smile. He talked with his mother a little bit after, but eventually, he excused himself.
She hugged him before he left. A tight, almost desperate squeeze that seemed to drag out for longer than it really did. Ethan wasn’t entirely sure how to respond and wasn’t able to think of anything better than giving her a couple of awkward pats on the back.
Then, when somewhere nice, he lit a cigarette. Stupid, useless, and unhealthy, but he had to do something to let off steam or his entire body was going to burst apart like a firecracker.
When it was nearly time for the cigarette to burn itself out, he suddenly got engulfed in bright light. He didn’t think, nor could he; it was just way too fast.
The last thought he had was something along the lines of ‘the fuck?’ before he crashed face-first into space-time itself.
-3-
Ethan slammed his head against the plush velvet pillow, groaning. Post-reincarnation—transmigration?—headaches were a real pain, especially when you woke up in the body of a drunken wastrel named Theodore Lockheart, the most indebted, despised, fucked up noble in the entire bordertowns—lands that were on the border of the world of the living; lands that were under the constant threat of the dead.
He was tired, irritable, and he had a headache so annoying it was almost as if his skull was split open. Not to mention, his nose was throbbing in pain from what he could only guess had been a one-sided beatdown.
Had the Baron gotten beaten to a pulp somehow?
It was possible, after all, Ethan did remember snippets of Theodore’s recent memories—nothing more than that, though. Theodore tended to suit up as a rich merchant. And he’d likely gone to the bar after losing his fortune earlier in the night, and then had likely fucked a wench or two, vented on the poor women, gotten punched and kicked out.
Groaning, Ethan peeled himself out of bed and forced himself to move. He had things he wanted to do today, like sit somewhere nice and contemplate the meaning of existence—or smoke cigarettes. But sadly, he had none, and he despised alcohol.
Strange, Theodore—no, Ethan, thought. Why do I so easily believe in all this? And why am I so easily accepting that I’m this bastard now?
Though the question was there, Ethan found that it didn’t bring up any emotions. It was like an empty sentence in his thoughts, with nothing behind it.
Ding! System Initiating…
Consciousness transferred...
Subject: Ethan
Social integration protocols activated.
Linguistic database uploaded. Communication in all known languages will be facilitated.
Confirmation: Subject has all their memories upon induction. Check.
Disclaimer: This is not a dream simulation. This is a permanent transfer. Subject has been induced to fully believe this reality, but nothing else inside the subject has been altered.
Confirmation: Memories and core identity remain unaltered.
Warning: The subject will perceive everything as real.
Directive: Enjoy the New World. Second chance protocols initiated.
The System has awoken within you. [Nur] is a world unimaginable power awaits. You, Ethan, have the chance to become extraordinary.
A [Quest] approaches!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Magic Sensitivity]!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Magic Perception]!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Myriad Tongue]!
Ding! Please brace for loss of consciousness!
“What in the god-fucking-damned hell—?” Ethan muttered, then fell unconscious. When Ethan woke up again, a screen flashed in front of him.
Please select your preferred Class...
The screen, Ethan found, didn’t elicit any reaction out of him. It wasn’t shocking, nor unbelievable, it was just as if it was a universal truth he’d come to believe since childhood. Like a phone’s existence, or the internet, perhaps. The fact that he thought that way made him sigh. He just hoped anything else inside him hadn’t been changed.
Ethan looked through the page that appeared in front of him.
[Warrior (Common)]
Function: Frontline combatant
Prerequisite: None
Description: A Common-Ranked Class. Grants basic proficiency with all melee weapon types (sword, spear, ax, etc.)
Specialization Paths: Available after further training and/or meeting certain requirements: [Barbarian], [Knight], [Paladin], [Cavalryman], [Mercenary] (and more)
[Archer (Common)]
Function: Ranged Damage Dealer
Prerequisite: None
Description: Basic proficiency with bows and arrows.
Specialization Paths:
Adjacent: Unlockable after further training: [Thief], [Assassin] (and more)
Advanced: Upon reaching specific requirements: [Spirit Archer], [Magic Archer] (and more)
[Mage (Common)]
Function: Ranged Magic User
Prerequisite: None
Description: Basic application of magical abilities.
Specialization Paths: Unlockable after further study: [Warlock], [Alchemist], [Summoner] (and more)
[Healer (Common)]
Function: Support - Restoration and Enhancement
Prerequisite: A [Faith].
Description: Devoted healer, blessed with divine magic, requires [Faith] in a deity. A healer’s heart heals the spirit of ailing beings, providing great spiritual buffs. Can heal wounds and ailments of allies. Can enhance allied attributes and resistances.
Specialization Paths: Unlockable after advanced training (may vary by race or deity): [Temple Priest], [Battle Medic], [Nature Mender] (and more)
After looking through the available Classes, it didn’t take long for Ethan to immediately dismiss both the [Healer] and [Warrior]. [Healer] would be too weak unless he got to its Specialization Paths—not to mention he’d need to have faith in some god, which he did not—and [Warrior] meant he’d need to be close range all the time. Ethan didn’t like risk, thus that idea went to waste as fast as a blade through butter. That left him with two options, and a more or less clear idea of which choice to make.
[Archer] was dismissed for the sole reason that it didn’t appeal to him much, although he was indeed curious as to why it had [Thief] and [Assassin] as its Adjacent Specialization Paths. Regardless, there was only one choice left: Mage—something he’d have chosen anyway given that the system had given him [Magic Sensitivity] and [Magic Perception], although he’d yet to test those skills out. They seemed passive anyway.
Ethan selected his chosen Class.
Congratulations! You are now an [Unranked Mage].
You are capable of casting minor, beginner-level magics.
You can use magical implements and perform incantations with limited versatility.
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Basic Magic Script]!
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Elemental Spells]!
Due to your [Magic Perception] and [Magic Sensitivity], the effectiveness of magical spells and skills are now increased by 10%!
“That’s it?” Ethan blinked. “I would’ve expected, I don’t know, for my entire body to feel on fire, or something.”
Not that he ever had that happen in his life. Fiction really put false expectations into his mind.
Theodore Lockheart
[Race: Human]⨽[Rank: G]⨽[Level: 0]
[Class: Mage]⨽[Rank: Unranked]⨽[Level: 0]
[Skills]: Basic Magic Script (Lvl. 1), Elemental Spells (Lvl. 1), Magic Sensitivity (Lvl. 1), Magic Perception (Lvl. 1), Myriad Tongue (Lvl. 1)
[Titles: None]
Ethan sifted through the skills to better understand what he could do now.
Basic Magic Script – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: This skill allows you to understand and write basic magical notation of the world. Connection Effect: [Basic Magic Script] has established a Connection with one of your existing skills [Magic Perception], essentially giving you the ability to not only comprehend simple spells but also create the runes required to cast them. However, complex and advanced theories will likely be beyond your grasp at this level.
Elemental Spells – Level 1
Type: Active
Effect: You can cast basic elemental spells. At this level, your spells are limited in power and complexity.
Magic Sensitivity – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You possess a heightened awareness of magical energies in your immediate surroundings. You can feel faint tingles or experience subtle temperature changes when magic is being used nearby. This ability helps you identify areas with magical activity or sense the presence of magic. However, pinpointing the exact source or nature of the magic might be difficult at this level.
Magic Perception – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You can see the underlying runes whenever a spell is cast in front of you. However, deciphering complex spells to view their runes will likely be blurry or misleading at this level***. Connection Effect:*** [Magic Perception] has established a Connection with one of your existing skills, [Basic Magic Script], essentially giving you the ability to not only comprehend simple spells but also create the runes required to cast them. However, complex and advanced theories will likely be beyond your grasp at this level.
Myriad Tongue – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You can understand and speak all the languages of this world. This skill allows you to communicate with most of the species you encounter. Complex conversations will likely require further development of this skill. Connection Effect: [Myriad Tongue] has established a Connection with [Basic Magic Script], essentially giving you an inherent understanding of the runic language of magic.
Holy... So, this world’s really like a game, huh? There are no stats, though. Why? Ethan rubbed his chin. The skills were nice. Ethan was excited to test his skills out when someone knocked once on the door and entered. “My lord,” said the man Ethan quickly recognized as one of his advisors, Cedric, “I’ve received notice that the duke’s men have begun their journey from the Capital.” He bowed. “They’re coming to collect tax.”
Saying so, Cedric left Ethan to ponder.
Tax? What?
In this world of swords and spells, tax consisted of the rarest of monster parts and materials. Priceless Relics were found in the Deadlands just out the border—lands that were full of dangers of the highest caliber, along with endless rewards. And because these materials and items were all of a higher value, not paying tax could easily put a small town like this into debt, unless the town managed to somehow attract a wealthy and profitable industry or find themselves a noble willing to spend his coin to help their people.
Such a noble couldn’t be Theo, clearly. After all, he was just a run-of-the-mill spoiled brat from a prominent aristocratic family—the typical wastrel born lucky into money and power without ever needing to work a single day in his entire life.
Regardless, the tax was Ethan’s issue now, and he wasn’t ready to deal with it given that Theo already had quite a debt in the first place.
Ethan’s eyes deadened.
Next >
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I want to thank Meatcanyon and Wendigoon for starting Creepcast. I've played around with writing horror, and here is my first short story. I will post it for free in a few other places to see what people think. Please enjoy!
A Hike to Remember
By R.L. Oclen
Chapter 1
A woman sits with hastily pulled-up fire-red hair in the waiting room of the state patrol station. The procedurally sterile off-white walls and decade-old magazines do little for comfort. With her head hanging low, her shoulders pushing forward, and her boots rapidly tapping on the floor, something has to give.
"Please just let her be okay." The woman growls as a pair of officers come in from the field. The officers' demeanors quickly change when they see the familiar face.
"Tabitha, did Officer Nichols call you?" one of the state patrol officers asked sympathetically.
"Yes, he asked me to come in and pick up a few things," Tabitha said, shooting back a muted look.
" I'll let them know you're here." The officer said, nodding to Tabitha as they passed the security door. Tabitha leaned back against the hard plastic chair, staring blankly into the fluorescent light. She had done this dance in the macabre repeatedly over the past month. The last image of her younger sister, Lisa, still burned in her mind. Tabitha had always been protective over her younger sister after their parents died. A pang of guilt shoots through her chest as she thinks about her and Lisa's argument.
"Tabitha Hymm, Officer Nichols is ready for you."
"Okay," she stood up, shaking off her guilt, and followed the officer back. The familiar surroundings of the state patrol station blurred as Tabitha stared forward. She followed the officer as they came to a rustic wooden office door, which was embossed with "Officer Nichols."
The escorting officer turns the old brass door knob. "Sir, I have Tabitha Hymm here." A grizzled West Virginia Highway State Patrol veteran sits behind the desk and nods. The escorting officer steps aside, pushing the door open as Tabitha pushes past him and slumps in the awaiting chair like so many times before. An uncomfortable relationship had formed between the two, born out of necessity and duty.
"Cup of coffee?"
"No thanks. Let's just cut to the chase. You don't have anything new?"
The worn laugh lines and Officer Nichols's face flattens. His eyebrows contour sympathetically as he shakes his head.
"Tabitha, I don't have anything else new for you. I wanted to give you the clothes returned from the lab." Her face darkened at the same response she had heard many times.
"As we discussed two weeks ago, there is nothing new and no signs of struggle or foul play," Officer Nichols said while placing a box marked evidence on the table and sliding it forward. Tabitha began to weep at the realization of Lisa's clothes in front of her. In a coordinated queue, Officer Nichols brought out a box of tissues. Reluctantly, Tabitha took a few moments to unblur her vision.
"How does someone stop their car in the middle of the Remington West Virginia State Park, lock it, and then walk into the woods?" Officer Nichols clasped his hands together and sighed at her worn question.
"Tabitha, I wish I had an answer for why your sister stopped her car in the woods and simply walked off. We're still going through her cell phone, but no signs exist that anyone forced her. On that Tuesday morning, she pulled over to the side of the road, secured her car, and walked away." Officer Nichols said empathetically.
Tabitha became stoic at the same explanation she had heard many times before. " So what next?"
"You should go back to Ohio, and I'll contact you as soon as I have more information." She winced at Officer Nichols's words. Reality began to pull at her that bills and work wouldn't wait much longer.
"If I leave, she's gone for good."
" You staying won't bring her back." Officer Nichols said sympathetically.
" So is that it? She's just gone?"
" Tabitha, I'll be honest with you. In cases like this… when people do things like this. Recovery is harder in the spring due to the weather and the animals. You know her mental condition better than I do. I can't explain why she did what she did. But until I find a solution, a suicide note, some intention, or body. She's not here. Tabitha, I'm-"
" Don't you fucking say sorry!" Tabitha stood up, screaming at Officer Nichols, throwing the plastic chair backward against the wall. " I should just look for myself."
"No!" Officer Nichols said momentarily, gripping the desk as his face hardened, then relaxed. Tabitha was caught off guard by Officer Nichols, who was normally composed. "Tabitha, I know this is unbearable. I've sat on this side of the desk and had these conversations. Trust me; I need you to be safe if I need your help later."
Tabitha nods, knowing Officer Nichols is right. She reaches down, picks up the evidence box of her sister's belongings, and leaves.
" Tabitha, if you're heading home, don't stop your car; just keep driving." Tabitha stops to look at Officer Nichols, feeling an eeriness to his words.
" Goodbye, Officer Nichols," Tabitha said as she closed the rustic wooden door behind her. She counted the tiles as she exited the West Virginia State Patrol Station. Placing her sister's belongings carefully in the back seat of her Jeep, Tabitha then sat momentarily behind the steering wheel, staring at the emblem. The familiar numbness washed over Tabitha as she pushed the start button. She pulled onto the highway, driving to the motel that had been home for the last month or so. Muted pop music accented the drive back as her mind raced with questions. Once inside the two-and-a-half-star motel room, Tabitha sat her sister's belongings on the corner table, crumbled onto the bed, and cried.
***
Tabitha wiped the steam from the slightly spotted mirror above the bathroom sink. The hot water from the shower felt good and loosened some of the stress from her body. Looking back at her, Tabitha's face was framed by damp curls around her shoulders. Her face marked the stress of the past month. Frowning, she examined the bags under her eyes; sleep had to come tonight. Walking into the living area, She changed into her favorite gym shorts and oversized sleep shirt. The alarm on her phone flashed "7:00 am," so she could drive home five hours after breakfast.
Tabitha hated feeling comfortable in this once strange room, but falling asleep was getting easier now. Her eyes closed slowly as the ceiling fan droned evenly. At first, nothing came in her dreams, but she let her guard down and slipped further into sleep.
As she dreamed of floating overhead like a bird of prey, Tabitha soared over the vast Remington National Park. The high noon sun bore down on the crisp woods, perfectly contrasting sky and forest. The heat of the sun felt good on her feathers. Distant cries rang out through the dream-like forest, catching her attention. Tabitha tilted her wings toward the screams, feeling a sense of familiar curiosity.
She now recognized the sobs and cries for help as she flew closer, her sharp eyes locked on her sister leaning against a large oak tree. She glided overhead without care, examining the situation below. Lisa clung to the tree, her eyes darting back and forth, scanning upwards. Lisa's face reflected desperation, looking for help in any direction. Tabitha lazily circles Lisa several times before perching on a sturdy branch higher in one of the oak trees. She watched Lisa intently with hunger. She bellowed deeply, hearing the unnatural sound she made, catching Lisa's eyes. Lisa's expression changed; she became calm, almost uncaring, as she stared back at Tabitha's form. Hunger grew exponentially in Tabitha as she spread her large wings. Her large eyes gaze down at Lisa before diving straight for her sister.
Tabitha jolts awake to the alarm on her phone flashing "7:23 AM." She breathes in sharply, shaking off the last horrible thoughts from the reoccurring nightmare. The strange details become more vivid each time. The lingering memories of folk stories her mother told sat in the back of her mind. In those stories, the dead would reach out in dreams as a matter of warning. Leaning back on the headboard, she searched for the advice her psychologist gave her. During their last session, Dr. Ryland explained dreams are a form of self-actualization of guilt. He told Tabitha that it was natural to feel responsible when losing a loved one in this manner.
Tabitha grumbled, lightly running her hands through her red hair; she pushed everything to the back of her mind. "Get it together!" She grumbled to herself. She pushed herself off the bed and got ready to leave. It was going to be a long trip home, and the only thing she could do now was leave things in the authorities' hands. Packing up was pretty easy since she only cycled through the outfits she brought. The local laundromat must have made a small fortune off her. Tabitha took one last look at the box of Lisa's belongings before throwing them in her duffle bag. She was thankful she didn't have to spend another night in this room.
***
Tabitha sat behind the wheel, waiting for the 90's model minivan to finish their order so she could grab a breakfast burrito on the way out. Considering the situation, the Deer Stop Family Restaurant did have a good breakfast. Finally, pulling up to the 70-style drive-in board, Tabitha rolled off the order she had been accustomed to. " I'll take a large iced tea with the double breakfast burrito meal and hash browns, please."
" Would you like some happy hot sauce with that?"
" That's fine, and a few ketchup packets as well."
" Your total is $8.79. Please pull around."
She pulled around to her window, flashed her debit card, got the receipt, and waited for her food. Luckily, the young woman serving her wasn't very talkative in the morning. The last thing she wanted was a conversation about the weather or meaningless small talk.
" Here's your large iced tea and breakfast meal. Ketchup and happy hot sauce are inside."
" Thanks," Tabitha said while mustering her best fake smile. The woman only smiled and nodded as the service window automatically closed. She pulled into the parking lot and dug into breakfast. Turning the radio to the weather, Tabitha sat back and enjoyed her meal. The local DJ read through the headlines, making nonpartisan comments about politics and grumbling about improving the economy. Tabitha powered through the updates of the "out-of-state woman" who'd gone missing. It was nice that the local radio station gave Lisa's name, description, and a missing person's number for sightings or leads. Tabitha even interviewed with the local news and radio stations, hoping it would bring Lisa home. But she soon found all it brought was a sorrowful look from the locals as she interacted with them in her day-to-day life.
Finishing the last of her hash browns, Lisa wadded up everything in the paper bag and threw it in the back seat. The 9 AM weather report said it was nothing but clear skies and sun the rest of the week. Tabitha flipped the radio over to the greatest hit station, pulled out of the parking lot, and began her trip home. She memorized the roads, every bend and turn in the early weeks as she frantically looked for Lisa. There's something hypnotic about the trees: the way they flow together. The trees' green tops and the oak trees' wide trunks were a relaxing view. Tabitha enjoyed the lazy s-curves of the road, bending and winding around the hills and the trees. The occasional farmhouse or field dotted the sides of the road as she made her way to the main highway.
The blur of a semi-truck snapped Tabitha's attention as she pulled up to the mouth of the highway. She had four and a half hours ahead of her, which would be a long ride. Tabitha pulled onto the highway and picked up speed, noting sparse traffic. She relaxed into her seat, letting her gaze gloss over the blur of green foliage. Without warning, Tabitha caught a large shadow from the corner of her left eye. When she registered the black feathery form, Tabitha tensed up and slammed on the brakes as it swooped across the vehicle's hood. Quickly, she pulled the car safely off the road. She couldn't determine exactly what it was, but it was bigger than any bird she'd seen. It was a bird, right? Tabitha turned off her Jeep and grabbed the keys and cell phone. Standing before the Jeep, she looked over the grill to see if she made contact with the entity.
Bewildered, she scanned the tree line, spotting something in the distance. Sitting in the clearing of the large oak forest was an enormous black owl. It stared intently at Tabitha with bright, shiny yellow eyes. She pushed the lock button on her keys, causing the jeep to beep securely. She turned, looking across the open field, an enormous black owl perched in the upper branches of an old oak tree. Each step she took away from the road piqued her curiosity. Soon, Tabitha stood in the middle of the open field, staring intently into the eyes of the enormous owl.
The horn of a passing semi-truck blared, pulling Tabitha's attention away from the mysterious large creature. She looked back and saw that she had walked farther away from the Jeep than she had thought. She glanced back to the forest line only to see the enormous owl was deeper into the woods than before. She narrowed her vision to find the two large, bright yellow eyes staring back. Had it moved? The day's stress, care, and worry suddenly poured out of Tabitha. It was replaced by only curiosity and overbearing tranquility. She warmly smiled for the first time in months as her feet pulled her further into the woods.
Chapter 2
The tug of gravity pulls Tabitha to her senses as her body reacts, falling forward. Her arms thrust forward, bracing for impact. Water rushes around her face as she struggles to get her bearings. Quickly, Tabitha pushed herself up in the ankle-high stream she fell in. The haze slowly clears from her mind as she stares at the muddy water. The dull ache throbs up her legs. Tabitha can smell the sweat from her clothes. Her face contorted in panic as she quickly stood up in the water, looking for her cell. Thankfully, the device was still in her pocket, dry and unscathed.
"One o'clock. How can that be?" Tabitha says, slowly looking up from the screen to see the vast, dense West Virginia forest encompassing her view. She shakes her head back and forth with disbelief. A smile gently spreads across her face, with the last bit of tranquility leaving her body. How did I get out here? Her breathing becomes faster as her pulse begins to quicken. I'm in the forest. I'm all alone—just like Lisa!
"NO, NO, NO, NO! THIS FUCKING CAN'T BE HAPPENING TO ME!" Tabitha screams into the void of trees. Her eyes well up with tears as she crumbles to her knees, gripping her phone tightly to her chest. Her sobs ring out through the thick oak trees. Her breath slows a little as she regains her composure. She begins to search her mind for anything. What is the last thing I can remember? The image of the black shadow crossing her vision while driving flashes into her mind.
"Okay, I got out of the Jeep, the…then what?" Tabitha says, trying to refresh her memories. She thinks her memory is not just gone; it's a black void in her mind. Complete blackness fills her mind right after remembering locking the Jeep and then turning to see the…
"Fuck I saw something. What was it!" Tabitha says, frustrated with her mind. She knew there must be a logical reason she was out here. Officer Nichols warned her not to go looking for her sister. She wasn't stupid; she just said that as a last-ditch effort to get him to do anything. Now I'm here.
"Run!" Tabitha heard Lisa's voice in her ear. Before she could turn around, she heard a loud bellowing coming from overhead. Fear shot down her back, reminding her of the nightmares she had over the past month. She shot forward full bore as something crashed to the ground behind her. Glancing back as she ran, a black mass of feathers convulsed between the broken branches of the trees. Its slick black feathers rippled across its surface as its bones crackled and flesh tore. Its body contorted and twisted from the shape of an owl to something bigger.
"Run, Tabby! Don't let it catch you!" Tabitha pushed forward, hearing Lisa's scream beside her face. Her breath burned in her chest, and she moved past the old oak trees bent over the creek bed. Her feet slammed rapidly, splashing along the side of the creek. Another loud bellow comes from behind as the trees bend and break to the force behind her. A small opening in the rocky creek bed catches her sight from the left. She dives into the crevasses, not caring where the fathoms lead. Tabitha tumbles in the pitch black, taking scrapes and sharp jabs from the rocks as she tumbles further into the void.
She finally tumbles to a stop on the sandy, wet floor of the cave. Her body aches from the sudden burst of exhaustion. The cool water running around her body from the creek is soothing despite her bumps and bruises. Pushing herself up, she scoots out of the water. Feeling her way forward, she finds a dry spot to collect herself. Quickly pushing her hand into her pocket, she finds her phone undamaged.
The sound of footsteps pushing against the creek fills the void around Tabitha as the light steps move closer to each other up the underground creekbed. She slowly removes her cell from her pocket and then shines the camera light toward the sound. A pair of scratched and bruised pale bare legs hold up a frail form in front of her in the creek. She wears the darkness as a shroud with nothing else to clothe her. Tabitha froze, not wanting to shine the light further in the pale form before her.
"Tabby, turn your light off. You need to save your battery." Tabitha turned off the light and then rushed forward, embracing Lisa—the how or why didn't matter, only the now. The pale form hugged her tightly. Tabitha felt her cold, bare skin. The darkness couldn't hide the feeling of the marks across her back and torso.
"Lisa, I'm-"
"Hush! I don't have much time. This wasn't your fault! I'm with Mom and Dad now. You have to survive, Tabby! Listen. Wait until the sun shines through the cracks, making a trail out. Follow it down the creek until you come to the opening. You'll see a large hill you hike up for a cell signal. And remember…If you can't see it… It can't hurt you. I love you-"
Tabitha stumbled forward before catching herself. The void in front of her arms was only filled by cool air. She looked up and noticed a faint glimmer of light pushing through the ceiling. She sat down, relaxing against the limestone wall of the cave, waiting for the trail of light to form.
***
After a few hours, the light shining through the cracks of the cave ceiling was bright enough to lead Tabitha to the other side. She stepped onto the creek bed, thankful for the sun hanging lower in the sky. Scanning the sky, Tabitha saw only a few clouds. The foothills of Appalachia backdropped the forest as she scanned for the hill. Her eyes found the trail leading up the steady slope of an impressive hill. The top of the hill was bare. Part of the hill must have sheared off in a landslide, leaving the top void of trees and a jagged cliff face. Tabitha started her hike up the back of the hill. She was careful to stay under the heavy canopy of the old trees, hopefully avoiding the creature's eyes.
She did her best to quiet her mind while hiking up the trail. Come on, almost to the top, then I can call 911, she replayed repeatedly in her mind. Her adrenaline made up for the lack of food since morning. She drank some water from a clean spot in the creek. She was placing her bet on rescue rather than worrying about the water.
Leaning against one of the trees, Tabitha took out her cell and measured the signal.
"Damn it, nothing!" She swore under her breath. She listened nervously and cautiously peered her head out from the tree line. Standing at the tree line, the cell phone still had a low signal. She pushed her anxiety down with a swallow and slowly stepped forward onto the bare rock. Tabitha was now out in the open. She walked with the cell phone pointed upwards, measuring the signal. Within three feet of the cliff face, her signal bar punched up to full. Tabitha began to punch in the numbers just as a pair of large yellow eyes appeared. She felt her legs become weak, and her vision blurred as the creature snared her in its gaze.
Tabitha ducked, missing the giant owl's claws as it swooped for her. She squinted her eyes shut, momentarily breaking the hold of the infernal beast as it crashed to the ground, tumbling down the path of old trees. On her hands and knees, she tucked the dialed phone back into her pocket. She heard the creature's loud bellowing, followed by the snapping of bone and flesh ripping. It was changing its shape to finish her off.
Tabitha tried to get up, but the flash of its eyes did something to her. Her legs were numb, her stomach was in knots, and she could barely put a few thoughts together.
"If you can't see it, it can't hurt you." Tabitha heard clearly in her left ear. She quickly pushed herself into a sitting position and fumbled for the key chain in her right pocket. Pulling the long chain of keys, luck charms, and keepsakes, her father's Swiss army knife dangled at the end. She slowly opened the half-inch blade. Her body wholeheartedly rejected her plan and tried to fight her. Every internal warning system sounded as her body fought against her as she brought the blade against the corner of her left eye.
She didn't know if she could do it until the creature bellowed in her direction. With one quick motion, the half-inch blade sliced across her left eye. The world dimmed and then went black on her left side. Behind her, the beast's thundering gallop was getting closer. Tabitha plunged herself into total darkness with the last bit of her strength. Her hand gripped tightly around the bloody knife as she folded forward onto the ground. She could feel herself weeping blood. She squinted, doing her best to stem the tide of blood loss.
A large feathered paw drove into Tabitha's right side, flipping her onto her back. She lay still as the hulking creature stood over her. It remained motionless, and Tabitha was confused about why it didn't move or bite her. Then she started to giggle, just a little at first. Then, laughing madly into the creature's face as it growled back at her. She could not see it; she couldn't see anything. Her mind couldn't be eaten!
The creature roared into Tabitha's face while plunging one of its sharp claws into her shoulder. Tabitha screamed in pain, slashing the knife downward. The blade hit something soft, and she ripped the blade down, rending whatever she had hit on the abomination. A bright yellow, foul-smelling liquid gushed in a torrent over Tabitha's face. She turned to cough, having swallowed a portion of it. The creature reared back, squealing in pain. Its hind leg came down hard on Tabitha's leg, snapping her tibia. She jerked her leg up, causing the creature to tumble forward and fall over the edge of the cliff side.
Tabitha heard the creature crash below at the base of the hill. A large dead tree speared the creature through its chest. Tabitha could hear the labored whines of the creature as its cries became weak and slowed. A wave of sickness hit her as she rolled over and vomited. The foul smell drenched her. She did her best to focus, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the phone. By memory, she typed in the unlock pin. She held her breath and placed her thumb where the call button should be.
She could hear the call being made then, "911. What is your emergency?"
"Please help me! A bear has attacked me, and I can't see. I think I am on a hill."
"Ok, ma'am, stay with me! Do you know where you are located?"
"No, I'm lost. Please send help."
"It's okay. Stay with me on the phone, and I'll use the cell signal to try to find you."
"I'm on top of one of the hills. I think I am lying on a bare roc-" Tabitha slipped unconscious with the cell still tightly in her hand. Her body began to tremble and convulse.
"Ma'am! Ma'am! Stay with me. I have help on the way."
Chapter 3
A young man in military fatigues frantically compiles images and reconnaissance data from his drone feed. Confirming his hunch, he commands the winged surveillance drone to make a hard left and send a live video feed. His eyes widened as he saw a large owl-shaped shadow crash onto the top of a hill. He watches in awe as the sleek black owl twists and shifts into something much larger, like a grizzly. As the drone turns, he sees a woman at the cliff's edge trying to steady yourself on her hands and knees.
He bolts up from the command module, jotting down the drone's coordinates on one of the printouts. The drab government-issued office motif for the watch station blurs in the corner of his eye as he rushes down the hallway to the watch commander's office.
"Sir, recon has eyes on AMOS! And it's feeding!" the man said, swinging the heavy wooden door open. He took the hastily compiled file and pushed it forward to the commanding officer.
An older, tanned man quickly stands, reaching for the files. His brow furls, seeing his charge is awake. "Keep eyes on it! Go Adams!" The young man nods, turning on his heel and bolting for the drone command module. As his office door slams shut from the subordinate officer, he grabs his headset and frantically dials the closest military outpost to the coordinates.
"Hello, Sergeant Klein; this is Agent Smith of Black Watch outpost 7948! Shadow is active, code Alpha, Mike, Oscar, Sierra. The coordinates and data package have been sent. A civilian is on the ground; deploy strike-and-rescue ASAP.
"We'll be up in five, Agent Smith! The line cuts as Agent Smith closes out the call on his headset and rushes to the door. The normally quiet watch station buzzes alive, with personnel flooding the central command station. The background echoes resource allocation calls, frantic typing, and the hum of cold computers warming up.
"Adams, get our eyes back on Amos!"
"Coming back around in 30 seconds." Thirty sets of eyes stare at the three giant screens, anxiously waiting for the drone feed to clear the bank of trees. The camera clears the tre top to see the giant feathered grizzly rear back slinging its massive head away from its prey. Its large yellow right eye spews bright yellow liquid all over the red-haired woman and the cliff face. The giant feathered grizzly missteps, crushing the woman's leg and causing the creature to tumble over the cliff face.
"Fuck!" Agent Smith yells in horror as he watches AMOS fall four stories, impaling a sharp, 3-meter-tall log lodged in the boulders. The command center freezes wide-eyed at the flailing dying creature on screen. Agent Smith pulls his cell out quickly and dials.
"Klein, Scrub the current request! AMOS is down! Switch to rescue and harvest now!
"What, someone took out AMOS?"
"YES! It's at the bottom of the cliff, bleeding out essence! The woman is covered in it as well. Clean as much of it off her as possible before you take her to the ER.
"Understood!"
Agent Smith, in a rage, slings his phone straight forward, connecting with Private Adams's skull. Adams flinches at the sudden impact of the hard plastic and covers his head. Agent Smith grabs the table in front of him and flips it over, sending the computer equipment crashing to the government-issued tiled floor.
"A two-year cycle gone! All that essence is gone! Now I have to wait another 24 months for AMOS to resurrect!" Agent Smith screams, causing the rest of the staff to recoil away in fear.
"Jones!" Agent Smith says sternly, turning to a petite woman on his left. She stares at him, pleading.
"Yes Sir?'
"Get Officer Nichols on my office line. That fuck up has some explaining. He should have told us AMOS was awake."
"Right away!" Jones quickly sits back down and begins dialing Nichols, thankful she doesn't have to deal with Agent Smith further. The command center quickly shifts gears as Agent Smith returns to his office.
***
Two Weeks later…
"Tabitha… Tabitha… This is Doctor Wilhelm. Wake up." The kind older gentleman said as they gently nudged Tabitha in her hospital bed.
"Where am I?" Tabitha asked, waking from what felt like years of sleep. She sat up, the world still pitch black, but an odd sense of the world around her seemed to hum just behind her eyes.
"You're in the hospital, dear; you scared us. Do you remember anything?" He said as he sat down on the side of her bed.
Tabitha thought for a moment the last parts after she slashed her eyes were a blur. She remembers people yelling and the sound of two or three helicopters over her. " No, it's really all just a blur."
"Well, it's probably for the best. You had some very serious injuries. The first night, we honestly didn't think you would make it. Then…" The doctor trailed off with a concerned expression, not knowing how to explain things further.
Tabitha felt his pulse quicken somehow. She didn't understand it but fully felt or sensed the doctor beside her. She sensed the two other nurses standing at the end of the bed. Her body didn't hurt. She felt great. She felt hungry.
"Doctor, you said had. What happened to my injuries?" She said calmly, trying not to startle the old doctor further.
"Well, Tabitha, it's the closest thing to a miracle I've ever seen. You had violent seizures from the minute you hit the entrance of the ER. We couldn't even set your leg. The medications we gave you had a minimal effect, and you thrashed so much that we had to restrain you. Then, the early morning check-in found you in a deep sleep. All but your eyes were completely healed. So we switched gears to support care and treated your eyes the best we could." He said, watching her reaction.
Tabitha leaned back in her bed, taking in the wild account. "Do you know how I healed so quickly?"
"What happened to you is beyond all scientific reason. A miracle is the only way the staff and I can explain it. I know you have been through a lot, but I want to check your eyes."
"Thank you for all your help, Doctor Wilhelm." She said, sitting up in bed.
"You are most welcome, dear. Now I am going to unwrap your eye-dressing. Hold still, please." he said as he reached up and pulled on the bandage tape. Tabitha felt a quick tug and felt the bandages loosen from around her head. The doctor slowly unwrapped the bandages. The doctor's brow wrinkled as he examined the two large black scabs covering Tabitha's eyes.
"Tell me if this hurts at all, ok?"
"Yes, doctor." She relaxes as the doctor's gloved fingers pass over the scab. He pushes and gently tugs at the side of one, and it starts to lift. He pulls on the scab more, and Tabitha begins to sense the light as it hits her eyelid.
"Oh, I can sense the light, Doctor Wilhelm!" She said, smiling.
"Wonderful! Nurse Allen, please hand me some saline solution. I think a little water will loosen these right up. Hold still; this may feel cold," he said as he reached for the solution. She felt the cool liquid flush over the left eye, then the right. The scabs fell away with a gentle tug from the doctor. She could see the light shine through her eyelids. She grinned widely, happy to have some form of sight left.
"Please open your eyes for me," he said as he sat back on the bed. Tabitha slowly opened her eyes. The flood of light was almost too much, causing her to squint. After a few moments, she adjusted to the fluorescent lights. Three figures began to take shape in front of her. First, the distinguished older features of Doctor Wilhelm came into view quickly, followed by the brunette and blonde younger nurses standing at the end of the bed. Suddenly, her vision snapped into place, crisp and clear.
"I can see perfectly! This is amazing! Thank you, Doctor Wilhem!" she said, turning to look directly into his eyes, but he stared back at her unmovingly.
"Doctor Wilhelm?" she said as her expression became more worried. Doctor Wilhelm just sat staring, intensely focused on her eyes. His expression was overbearingly calm. She glanced at the nurses, rigidly staring back at her with trapped, calm expressions. Doctor Wilhelm began to twitch slightly. It traveled from the base of his spine out to his limbs, finally convulsing.
"Doctor Wilhelm, are you okay?" Tabitha yelled as the doctor began to have a seizure and fell on top of her bed.
"Help Him!" She screamed at the two nurses only to see both of them crumble to the tiled floor. One of them bashed her head off the bed frame. Tabitha recoils back from Doctor Wilhelm in terror as he starts foaming at the mouth. She climbs over the bed rail and hits the tiled concrete floor with a thud. Her adrenaline surges as she bolts for the door, looking for help.
At the entrance of her hospital room, she sees another nurse leaving the adjacent room. "Please, my doctor and staff need help!" As the male nurse turns to see Tabitha, he suddenly goes stiff before collapsing into a violent seizure, spilling his cart over with him.
"What's happening!" Tabitha screams, thinking something is in the air, or everyone has come down with something. A pair of security guards round the corner, hearing the screams and commotion.
"Ma'am, are yo-" The guard freezes mid-stride as he makes eye contact with Tabitha. Both men start to convulse and topple over, thrashing violently on the hard tile.
"No, no, no, no!" Tabitha yells as she darts into the women's bathroom, a few doors up the hall. She runs in, terrified of the situation. She approaches one of the sinks, bracing herself against the cool porcelain. Her stomach turns, and she dry heaves in the sink. She steadies herself while turning on the cold water. Leaning in, she takes a drink. As she looks up, a glint of two yellow eyes catches her. Tabitha stumbles backward on reflex. Then, she sees her reflection in the mirror. Two completely bright yellow eyes stare back at Tabitha. She screams at herself in the mirror, not feeling hungry anymore.
The end.
I will