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2024.05.07 09:46 Working-Turnip3897 My Alcoholic Father Tried to Kill my Recovering Mother After She Had Open Heart Surgery for the Life Insurance Money.
I was the only child. Born in the mid 90s. My father was a narcissist for sure. Perhaps also a Psychopath, perhaps bipolar or something else entirely. I don't know for sure. I do know my experience with him. It varied wildly from day to day. Some days he would want to play catch and take me out for an ice cream, be generally agreeable and in a good mood, crack jokes. Contrast that to the next day, he'd come home angry. After enough time I could tell if he was angry before he entered the house by the gate of his walk. A bigger fella, 300+ lbs, my father would stomp and throw his weight around when he was angry. He loved to stomp around my childhood cat. Scared the shit out of my cat. Maybe he felt more powerful than the cat. Maybe he just liked seeing the cat scurry in panic. Every time that man gave my cat emotional distress, it gave me distress and I held more and more contempt for the man's actions as I grew older. But that cat and I would form a strong connection, that cat would sleep with me every night. I loved that cat because it showed me more love and affection than any human ever had.
I remember one night, I must've been four or five years old, hearing my parents screaming at each other. Hearing them scream didn't scare me, as it was a normal occurrence and I was so desensitized and had no idea that my environment was not "normal". I wasn't struck with fear until things escalated from verbal to physical. I heard my father storm into his office and start breaking things. I see my mother screaming at him from across the hallway and suddenly out from the office door flies an entire model car display, with several model cars. The display smashes against the wall next to my mother's head, narrowly missing her, glass shatters, flying everywhere, littering the hallway. I didn't know what to do other than pull my Spiderman blanket over my head and hope I'd remain safe by staying unseen. I just laid there and listened to them hurl swears and insults for what felt like an eternity.
I remember another night, where I found my mother sitting on the bathtub, crying hysterically, holding a revolver, saying to herself, "I'm gonna kill him" over and over. I said, "Why don't we just go Mama?" she hugged me and cried and said, "It's not that simple."
Turns out it wasn't that simple. My father was willing to endanger us all to get his way. I remember being in the car, my father driving, my mother in the passenger seat, and I'm in the back. They were arguing about something, I don't even remember what. My father would pick a fight over anything if he was in the mood for confrontation. For example, I remember him starting a fight over there being two coffee filters in the coffee machine before. So anyway, they are arguing in the car, the car is travelling approximately 45mph. In order to ensure compliance from my mother, and get her to cave to him, he starts whipping the wheel left and right, we start to go off in the ditch as he overcorrects to whip the car the other way. We're basically dangerously Saudi drifting because he's implying he's willing to kill his wife, his child and himself in order to get his way.
Fast forward a few years, I've got a bicycle I want to take around the neighborhood (the neighborhood being an oval) but my controlling father won't let me just ride the entire neighborhood in one big circle, I've got to make a dangerously sharp U-turn in order to not leave the sight of the front of the house. Turns out this rule was not for my safety at all, as my father was not keeping a watchful eye on me, but instead trying to make unwanted sexual advances on my mother. Guess what? I turned too sharp making one of those U-turns and face planted my jaw into the asphalt. Broke all my teeth out of my head(my last baby teeth had just fallen out, I had broken my newly acquired adult set of teeth). I run back to the house, screaming in pain, only to be met by a locked door. I pounded on that door for over a minute before they opened it. I later found out this was because my father was trying to get some hankey pankey. I can't chew on the right side of my mouth and have a smile I despise and hide from everyone and I 100% blame my father.
To add insult to injury, my father had plans for us all to drive two hours and go camping with HIS friends that day. I of course was not given any consideration or priority having just broken my face, and we proceeded to go camping regardless of my physical state or personal feelings. Camping wasn't fun. I was told to quit acting like a baby as I cried trying to eat a hamburger with my broken bleeding teeth. I can still see the bloody tooth marks on that hamburger bun. Of course my father was putting back beers this whole time. I don't know how many he drank that night I just know it was a lot. We left his friends to head back to our Lodge my father had rented. I go inside and piss, my father goes in the bathroom immediately after me, pisses, then storms out of the bathroom accusing me of pissing on the toilet seat. I calmly assure him I did not piss on the seat. He then says, "You calling me a liar?"
I stand my ground and reply with, "You're drunk you probably pissed on the seat and don't even realize it."
Next thing I know I'm on the ground in a ball trying to protect my head as my father is not spanking me on the ass with an open palm, but punching me with full force with a balled up fist. That was the first time I remember my mother stepping in. She pulled him off of me.
Fast forward to 2017, I'm an adult, working a job, still living with parents because the economy sucks. Mom has been complaining she doesn't feel right and my father was rather dismissive of her. One morning she tries to go into cardiac arrest, she pops and extra beta blocker, the doctor said later prob saved her life. My father was acting super weird while we were waiting for the ambulance. Trying to keep me away from my mother. Insisting I go to work instead of the hospital. My gut told me something was off. I told work I was going to the hospital with my mother. They understood. Turns out my mom has a widowmaker blockage, requiring a double-bypass. At this point in my life I had turned to alcohol to dull the stress of living with my father, and the stress of potentially losing my mother, I got very drunk the night before her operation. I woke up late the morning of her operation. So late I didn't get to see her before she went under. I worried if I had just drank away the last opportunity I had to see my mother alive.
Several hours go by, I finally see them wheel my mother out on the hospital bed, she's blueish-gray. Clinically dead before my eyes. They briskly take her away to another room and within a few minutes, tell me to come say hi. I was so relieved to talk my mother. I genuinely thought I had lost her. But the battle was not over. The biggest mistake that doctor made was telling my father to keep my mother's stress levels down following the operation. Guess what my father did? He ramped up his abusive yelling, because he was the beneficiary of a $800,000 policy and I could see he was pissed that my mother survived Open Heart. I was beginning to wonder if he had poisoned her.
It was only two days after the operation that we had to go back to the hospital because my father threw the television remote at my chair-bound recovering mother after screaming about how hard this whole situation was for him, complaining when she'd ask him to get her a water bottle. He also threw a tantrum and shoved me and my grandmother that day. My only regret is not shooting him that day because I'm sure in my State it would've been justified. But I didn't because I didn't want to send my mom into cardiac arrest from excess stress. So I make a decision, knowing my father has malicious intent, I decide its best for me to quit my job and take full responsibility of taking care of my mother since I'm sure I can't trust my father to do that. I was right to do that.
Fast forward a year, I've successfully helped my mother recover, driven her to all her physical therapy sessions, helped her bathe and poop and everything in between when she didn't have the energy, but now she's back to a solid 80% of what she was before the operation. She can drive herself again, just got a certified preowned BMW, but funny thing about that BMW. After my mom got a red one my dad felt the need to go out and get a white one, the same exact model. Then one day my mom comes home with one bolt barely holding on the rear driver-side tire. Four of the bolts are just gone. One just barely keeping that tire on there. I immediately put two and two together. My father is trying to get the life insurance money out of my mother, and my mother is too naive and ignorant to see it. I mean I know I didn't loosen the bolt. Was it the elderly widow next door? Was it the Doctor with the autistic kid across the street? Or was it my father, the primary beneficiary? I know, but I can't prove it in court. And there lies the problem. We left. Went no contact seven years ago. He filed for divorce, but he still stalks my mom. He hires people to stalk her. All I know to do is stay armed and ready.
I have neighbors who fight all the time. I hear them scream at each other. Sometimes it sends me into a flashback. PTSD can be a real bitch.
Why does a cat show me more love than my own species? Why do we exploit good people rather than cherish them? Why can't I turn off the nightmare? Why can't I feel safe and secure? Why can't I just relax? I'm so tired.
submitted by Working-Turnip3897 to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
I remember one night, I must've been four or five years old, hearing my parents screaming at each other. Hearing them scream didn't scare me, as it was a normal occurrence and I was so desensitized and had no idea that my environment was not "normal". I wasn't struck with fear until things escalated from verbal to physical. I heard my father storm into his office and start breaking things. I see my mother screaming at him from across the hallway and suddenly out from the office door flies an entire model car display, with several model cars. The display smashes against the wall next to my mother's head, narrowly missing her, glass shatters, flying everywhere, littering the hallway. I didn't know what to do other than pull my Spiderman blanket over my head and hope I'd remain safe by staying unseen. I just laid there and listened to them hurl swears and insults for what felt like an eternity.
I remember another night, where I found my mother sitting on the bathtub, crying hysterically, holding a revolver, saying to herself, "I'm gonna kill him" over and over. I said, "Why don't we just go Mama?" she hugged me and cried and said, "It's not that simple."
Turns out it wasn't that simple. My father was willing to endanger us all to get his way. I remember being in the car, my father driving, my mother in the passenger seat, and I'm in the back. They were arguing about something, I don't even remember what. My father would pick a fight over anything if he was in the mood for confrontation. For example, I remember him starting a fight over there being two coffee filters in the coffee machine before. So anyway, they are arguing in the car, the car is travelling approximately 45mph. In order to ensure compliance from my mother, and get her to cave to him, he starts whipping the wheel left and right, we start to go off in the ditch as he overcorrects to whip the car the other way. We're basically dangerously Saudi drifting because he's implying he's willing to kill his wife, his child and himself in order to get his way.
Fast forward a few years, I've got a bicycle I want to take around the neighborhood (the neighborhood being an oval) but my controlling father won't let me just ride the entire neighborhood in one big circle, I've got to make a dangerously sharp U-turn in order to not leave the sight of the front of the house. Turns out this rule was not for my safety at all, as my father was not keeping a watchful eye on me, but instead trying to make unwanted sexual advances on my mother. Guess what? I turned too sharp making one of those U-turns and face planted my jaw into the asphalt. Broke all my teeth out of my head(my last baby teeth had just fallen out, I had broken my newly acquired adult set of teeth). I run back to the house, screaming in pain, only to be met by a locked door. I pounded on that door for over a minute before they opened it. I later found out this was because my father was trying to get some hankey pankey. I can't chew on the right side of my mouth and have a smile I despise and hide from everyone and I 100% blame my father.
To add insult to injury, my father had plans for us all to drive two hours and go camping with HIS friends that day. I of course was not given any consideration or priority having just broken my face, and we proceeded to go camping regardless of my physical state or personal feelings. Camping wasn't fun. I was told to quit acting like a baby as I cried trying to eat a hamburger with my broken bleeding teeth. I can still see the bloody tooth marks on that hamburger bun. Of course my father was putting back beers this whole time. I don't know how many he drank that night I just know it was a lot. We left his friends to head back to our Lodge my father had rented. I go inside and piss, my father goes in the bathroom immediately after me, pisses, then storms out of the bathroom accusing me of pissing on the toilet seat. I calmly assure him I did not piss on the seat. He then says, "You calling me a liar?"
I stand my ground and reply with, "You're drunk you probably pissed on the seat and don't even realize it."
Next thing I know I'm on the ground in a ball trying to protect my head as my father is not spanking me on the ass with an open palm, but punching me with full force with a balled up fist. That was the first time I remember my mother stepping in. She pulled him off of me.
Fast forward to 2017, I'm an adult, working a job, still living with parents because the economy sucks. Mom has been complaining she doesn't feel right and my father was rather dismissive of her. One morning she tries to go into cardiac arrest, she pops and extra beta blocker, the doctor said later prob saved her life. My father was acting super weird while we were waiting for the ambulance. Trying to keep me away from my mother. Insisting I go to work instead of the hospital. My gut told me something was off. I told work I was going to the hospital with my mother. They understood. Turns out my mom has a widowmaker blockage, requiring a double-bypass. At this point in my life I had turned to alcohol to dull the stress of living with my father, and the stress of potentially losing my mother, I got very drunk the night before her operation. I woke up late the morning of her operation. So late I didn't get to see her before she went under. I worried if I had just drank away the last opportunity I had to see my mother alive.
Several hours go by, I finally see them wheel my mother out on the hospital bed, she's blueish-gray. Clinically dead before my eyes. They briskly take her away to another room and within a few minutes, tell me to come say hi. I was so relieved to talk my mother. I genuinely thought I had lost her. But the battle was not over. The biggest mistake that doctor made was telling my father to keep my mother's stress levels down following the operation. Guess what my father did? He ramped up his abusive yelling, because he was the beneficiary of a $800,000 policy and I could see he was pissed that my mother survived Open Heart. I was beginning to wonder if he had poisoned her.
It was only two days after the operation that we had to go back to the hospital because my father threw the television remote at my chair-bound recovering mother after screaming about how hard this whole situation was for him, complaining when she'd ask him to get her a water bottle. He also threw a tantrum and shoved me and my grandmother that day. My only regret is not shooting him that day because I'm sure in my State it would've been justified. But I didn't because I didn't want to send my mom into cardiac arrest from excess stress. So I make a decision, knowing my father has malicious intent, I decide its best for me to quit my job and take full responsibility of taking care of my mother since I'm sure I can't trust my father to do that. I was right to do that.
Fast forward a year, I've successfully helped my mother recover, driven her to all her physical therapy sessions, helped her bathe and poop and everything in between when she didn't have the energy, but now she's back to a solid 80% of what she was before the operation. She can drive herself again, just got a certified preowned BMW, but funny thing about that BMW. After my mom got a red one my dad felt the need to go out and get a white one, the same exact model. Then one day my mom comes home with one bolt barely holding on the rear driver-side tire. Four of the bolts are just gone. One just barely keeping that tire on there. I immediately put two and two together. My father is trying to get the life insurance money out of my mother, and my mother is too naive and ignorant to see it. I mean I know I didn't loosen the bolt. Was it the elderly widow next door? Was it the Doctor with the autistic kid across the street? Or was it my father, the primary beneficiary? I know, but I can't prove it in court. And there lies the problem. We left. Went no contact seven years ago. He filed for divorce, but he still stalks my mom. He hires people to stalk her. All I know to do is stay armed and ready.
I have neighbors who fight all the time. I hear them scream at each other. Sometimes it sends me into a flashback. PTSD can be a real bitch.
Why does a cat show me more love than my own species? Why do we exploit good people rather than cherish them? Why can't I turn off the nightmare? Why can't I feel safe and secure? Why can't I just relax? I'm so tired.
2024.05.07 07:29 Indica_Shaden How do U stop medical staff insisting U have symptoms that genuinely don't exist?
Forgive me for the length, but full explanation req.
I have been misdiagnosed, and that diagnosis insisted upon for 20+ yrs, even though I do not have the symptoms for it, nor do the treatments and therapies work. This is extremely important to note and I cannot stress this enough. I have been there and bought the whole tshirt company with treatment and therapies. When we insist that these do not work, I am told that I'm difficult, disagreeable and argumentative and am left untreated.
My husband and I are trying to have the correct diagnosis reached, however so far, noone listens to the patient experiencing the symptoms, and would rather go along with previous dx, over actually doing what is asked, wich entales correcting said dx so that the correct treatments and therapies can be obtained for major improved quality of life.
I will meet a new dr, everything is great UNTIL the apt after they receive my medical records. A distinct change in demeanour and attitude is exhibited (I read body language and energy, not faces) and I no longer receive respect, fair treatment or am listened too, and am incorrectly labelled with extreme prejudice and sexist behaviour. This has all been witnessed by others, including independent ones, besides hubby. Hubby is only just becoming aware as he has started attending apts with me and has now seen it for himself, he used to be at work for apts.
Being a renter and having to move areas to where the houses are at, goes against me horrendously. Meaning I have had to change drs more than I wish too, and things go unfollowed.
How in the ever living blazes of Hades, do we change this... Boys club arrogance, and have them listen too and hear the patient? Why are they insisting I have symptoms I do not have? After all medicine was developed by men, for men and is based on male physiology. Boys club indeed.
Why twist everything that is said too them to fit said preconceived judgements? Eg, I mention about the issues with my hands most noted during fine detail such as craft and gaming, and suddenly I'm lazy and do nothing but game 24/7. Go join the embroidery club. I'm spoken over and ignored.
I never said that, why insist that I did when U claimed U understood me, agree with me, then tell the dr different in Ur report? What are the benifits of giving me a dx of A, over B? When As treatments are the more expensive options? I guess U gotta pay that 3rd house off somehow...Why else would U blatantly lie like that, just so the next dr can tell me I'm obviously delusional and do have something because the reports say I do?
I'd also like to know why are we told one thing during an apt, and the paperwork that goes between drs, never mentions it and reflects the exact opposite, making me out to be a liar. I had to legally force to be given all reports in order to prove this. It's there in black and white. Meaning I am labelled as a delusional dr hopping addict, seeking attention and the right dr to give me what I want, every single time. When things are the genuine opposite and could not be farther from the truth. I am being unfairly steortyped due to my circumstantial physical appearance and mis diagnosis
Yes I am after the right dr, one that will listen. But also one that will go against conformity and find the actual truth by digging deeper, not taking what someone else said as gospel. I'm sorry but tbf, 8hrs over 8mnths, is not long enuf to gain a pt hx, when all is discussed is assesment.
I'd also like to know why drs think it's appropriate to sabotage specialist apts? Give me explicit instructions, only to have that be the reason I do not get correctly diagnosed. Don't do this. Ok, I don't. Not XYZ because of no reaction. Excuse me? U told me not to do it, so I didn't in front of Ur friend! The person who everytime is mentioned U make sure to add the my friend part. Why set me up to fail deliberately when U know I am blindly obedient, just to prove someone else correct who got it wrong because U can't be bothered?
Why indeed will drs only listen to each other, instead of the patient? Is it because I'm a middle aged white lady, who is hyper aware of their body, living below the poverty line with delusions of grandeur, instead of being genuine because I don't tick Ur boxes exactly how U like them? If only dr house was real... I'd have the right labels within days, not yrs of exruciating pain.
Please excuse my 6yrs of training to reach state level training officer in medical emergency response, pre ABI, I clearly know nothing about the human body.
What is the magic green line formula to have medical staff actually take on board what is said to them, AND do the right things about it to sort it? Please for the love of god, tell me that one. There is no quality of life until someone listens.
I am not a stereotype, I am abnormal to usual medical beliefs. I can and have, regularly walked with a dislocated hip, was working 16hr shifts 2 days out of replacement surgery release on my feet running a restaurant as a 2 man team, had a dislocated shoulder for 8 weeks without knowing it, can semi function with a subluxing c-spine with minor L ear CFS symptoms, structural head tilt, hypertension and seizures until rectified AND relocate it myself due to medical refusal of muscle relaxants and traction, let alone surgery aka treatment. Nearly died from a kidney infection I didn't know I had, and don't feel pain like U normal folk. I am immune to spirits and all NSIDs. This has been proven, so damn well listen to me pls... That's all I beg of U.
I am not normal, but not in the way U lable me as. I need someone to hear me and help me without prejudice, please. I am forced to seek alt pain relief arrangements due to refusal of treatment, I am drug dependant, not addicted. I cannot medically get addicted, it's proven, stop saying otherwise. Even illicit ones I was duped into taking when young and stupid have 0 effect. Pls believe me on this. It's weird as hell, I know, but its real. Fentanyl has 0 effect, may as well be saline. Same as methoxy. Totally useless. I cannot get high.
I have inattentive AuDHD with cptsd and hypermobility disorder complications, I do not have BPD. I do not have the symptoms, yet I have the symptoms listed by the dsm5 thingamajig, whatever it's called. Please stop telling I have something I don't and help me receive treatment and education I so desperately need, U can keep the meds I don't want them, they don't work anyway as I don't have the receptors, this is proven for the umpeenth time. My strive for justice is in overdrive and overwhelming. I reach out in desperation and injustice of being called a drug addict repeatedly, and treated like a 1950s housewife given mummy's little helpers to prove their point for them, by justifying them giving me more pills that do nothing.
U can stuff NDIS up Ur jumper too, I do not want it, stop trying to force it on me or insist I won't do anything without it for myself. With all due respect, fix me structurally and I'm good on my own thanks.
I just want to be able to contribute to society and have a job, a purpose for exsistance and use my training in some limited way Beit medical or other skills, instead of having to depend on the system, and help my husband and I cope with my true disorders. I do not want to sit in a CNR drugged to the eyeballs like I'm kept to keep me quiet. I hate it with a passion that I am forced to rely on others for exsistance. Can someone please help us crack the thin green line so I can have a life for once?
I ask with as much grace, politeness and decorum I can muster, at the atrocities that have befallen me repeatedly. I am beyond breaking point. Ifykyk. I am genuinely and honestly begging for help since asking has fallen on deaf ears.
I want to blink out of existence to stop the pain only, no other reason, coz fomo. If noone will listen, then... I cannot live like this. I cannot cope with the pain and siezures that are so very rectifiable, if only someone listened.
One of these days I'll accidentally do it wrong when forced to fix my own neck due to refusal of treatment. Noone wants that, but I have no choice BUT to do it myself. AuDHD associated hypermobile c-spine subluxing when U have snapped a ligament causing cerebral drainage issues, sucks so bad. Pls help me get the fusion surgery, masseuse, chiro, and quality of life I so desperately need.
I don't know what else to do but beg to be heard as a last resort, by screaming into the void of the internet in dark mode as the big light hurts, as noone listens to the "dulsional mad woman" who can't possibly stand up right if their neck is as bad as she says it is. See Spina bifida imperfecta, then try and tell me U can't walk on broken bones rip Quintin. See my own records about my hip
*Belief in me having AuDHD, leads to belief in the c-spine hypermobility that is slowly killing me and scrambling my brain with every seizure. Not to mention the extreme pain of the hip flexors, and shoulder immobility. I fear I don't have long left before I loose congative ability at the rate it's effecting physically. Sleeping wrong puts me down for weeks if not rectified with illegal meds and manipulation, I cannot stress how genuine of a request this is, as emotionally charged as it maybe. I can't and refuse to be forced to live like this due to mass medical incompetence and refusal of treatment due to preconceived incorrect ideology. I am neuro spicy. I do not identify, I AM.
Don't want Ur money by sueing the system, I want ur help to be physically independent enuf to make my own money. For the all the love that is holy, can someone help me... Please. Before it's too late and I'm permanently bedridden.
Australia for reference.
submitted by Indica_Shaden to askdr [link] [comments]
I have been misdiagnosed, and that diagnosis insisted upon for 20+ yrs, even though I do not have the symptoms for it, nor do the treatments and therapies work. This is extremely important to note and I cannot stress this enough. I have been there and bought the whole tshirt company with treatment and therapies. When we insist that these do not work, I am told that I'm difficult, disagreeable and argumentative and am left untreated.
My husband and I are trying to have the correct diagnosis reached, however so far, noone listens to the patient experiencing the symptoms, and would rather go along with previous dx, over actually doing what is asked, wich entales correcting said dx so that the correct treatments and therapies can be obtained for major improved quality of life.
I will meet a new dr, everything is great UNTIL the apt after they receive my medical records. A distinct change in demeanour and attitude is exhibited (I read body language and energy, not faces) and I no longer receive respect, fair treatment or am listened too, and am incorrectly labelled with extreme prejudice and sexist behaviour. This has all been witnessed by others, including independent ones, besides hubby. Hubby is only just becoming aware as he has started attending apts with me and has now seen it for himself, he used to be at work for apts.
Being a renter and having to move areas to where the houses are at, goes against me horrendously. Meaning I have had to change drs more than I wish too, and things go unfollowed.
How in the ever living blazes of Hades, do we change this... Boys club arrogance, and have them listen too and hear the patient? Why are they insisting I have symptoms I do not have? After all medicine was developed by men, for men and is based on male physiology. Boys club indeed.
Why twist everything that is said too them to fit said preconceived judgements? Eg, I mention about the issues with my hands most noted during fine detail such as craft and gaming, and suddenly I'm lazy and do nothing but game 24/7. Go join the embroidery club. I'm spoken over and ignored.
I never said that, why insist that I did when U claimed U understood me, agree with me, then tell the dr different in Ur report? What are the benifits of giving me a dx of A, over B? When As treatments are the more expensive options? I guess U gotta pay that 3rd house off somehow...Why else would U blatantly lie like that, just so the next dr can tell me I'm obviously delusional and do have something because the reports say I do?
I'd also like to know why are we told one thing during an apt, and the paperwork that goes between drs, never mentions it and reflects the exact opposite, making me out to be a liar. I had to legally force to be given all reports in order to prove this. It's there in black and white. Meaning I am labelled as a delusional dr hopping addict, seeking attention and the right dr to give me what I want, every single time. When things are the genuine opposite and could not be farther from the truth. I am being unfairly steortyped due to my circumstantial physical appearance and mis diagnosis
Yes I am after the right dr, one that will listen. But also one that will go against conformity and find the actual truth by digging deeper, not taking what someone else said as gospel. I'm sorry but tbf, 8hrs over 8mnths, is not long enuf to gain a pt hx, when all is discussed is assesment.
I'd also like to know why drs think it's appropriate to sabotage specialist apts? Give me explicit instructions, only to have that be the reason I do not get correctly diagnosed. Don't do this. Ok, I don't. Not XYZ because of no reaction. Excuse me? U told me not to do it, so I didn't in front of Ur friend! The person who everytime is mentioned U make sure to add the my friend part. Why set me up to fail deliberately when U know I am blindly obedient, just to prove someone else correct who got it wrong because U can't be bothered?
Why indeed will drs only listen to each other, instead of the patient? Is it because I'm a middle aged white lady, who is hyper aware of their body, living below the poverty line with delusions of grandeur, instead of being genuine because I don't tick Ur boxes exactly how U like them? If only dr house was real... I'd have the right labels within days, not yrs of exruciating pain.
Please excuse my 6yrs of training to reach state level training officer in medical emergency response, pre ABI, I clearly know nothing about the human body.
What is the magic green line formula to have medical staff actually take on board what is said to them, AND do the right things about it to sort it? Please for the love of god, tell me that one. There is no quality of life until someone listens.
I am not a stereotype, I am abnormal to usual medical beliefs. I can and have, regularly walked with a dislocated hip, was working 16hr shifts 2 days out of replacement surgery release on my feet running a restaurant as a 2 man team, had a dislocated shoulder for 8 weeks without knowing it, can semi function with a subluxing c-spine with minor L ear CFS symptoms, structural head tilt, hypertension and seizures until rectified AND relocate it myself due to medical refusal of muscle relaxants and traction, let alone surgery aka treatment. Nearly died from a kidney infection I didn't know I had, and don't feel pain like U normal folk. I am immune to spirits and all NSIDs. This has been proven, so damn well listen to me pls... That's all I beg of U.
I am not normal, but not in the way U lable me as. I need someone to hear me and help me without prejudice, please. I am forced to seek alt pain relief arrangements due to refusal of treatment, I am drug dependant, not addicted. I cannot medically get addicted, it's proven, stop saying otherwise. Even illicit ones I was duped into taking when young and stupid have 0 effect. Pls believe me on this. It's weird as hell, I know, but its real. Fentanyl has 0 effect, may as well be saline. Same as methoxy. Totally useless. I cannot get high.
I have inattentive AuDHD with cptsd and hypermobility disorder complications, I do not have BPD. I do not have the symptoms, yet I have the symptoms listed by the dsm5 thingamajig, whatever it's called. Please stop telling I have something I don't and help me receive treatment and education I so desperately need, U can keep the meds I don't want them, they don't work anyway as I don't have the receptors, this is proven for the umpeenth time. My strive for justice is in overdrive and overwhelming. I reach out in desperation and injustice of being called a drug addict repeatedly, and treated like a 1950s housewife given mummy's little helpers to prove their point for them, by justifying them giving me more pills that do nothing.
U can stuff NDIS up Ur jumper too, I do not want it, stop trying to force it on me or insist I won't do anything without it for myself. With all due respect, fix me structurally and I'm good on my own thanks.
I just want to be able to contribute to society and have a job, a purpose for exsistance and use my training in some limited way Beit medical or other skills, instead of having to depend on the system, and help my husband and I cope with my true disorders. I do not want to sit in a CNR drugged to the eyeballs like I'm kept to keep me quiet. I hate it with a passion that I am forced to rely on others for exsistance. Can someone please help us crack the thin green line so I can have a life for once?
I ask with as much grace, politeness and decorum I can muster, at the atrocities that have befallen me repeatedly. I am beyond breaking point. Ifykyk. I am genuinely and honestly begging for help since asking has fallen on deaf ears.
I want to blink out of existence to stop the pain only, no other reason, coz fomo. If noone will listen, then... I cannot live like this. I cannot cope with the pain and siezures that are so very rectifiable, if only someone listened.
One of these days I'll accidentally do it wrong when forced to fix my own neck due to refusal of treatment. Noone wants that, but I have no choice BUT to do it myself. AuDHD associated hypermobile c-spine subluxing when U have snapped a ligament causing cerebral drainage issues, sucks so bad. Pls help me get the fusion surgery, masseuse, chiro, and quality of life I so desperately need.
I don't know what else to do but beg to be heard as a last resort, by screaming into the void of the internet in dark mode as the big light hurts, as noone listens to the "dulsional mad woman" who can't possibly stand up right if their neck is as bad as she says it is. See Spina bifida imperfecta, then try and tell me U can't walk on broken bones rip Quintin. See my own records about my hip
*Belief in me having AuDHD, leads to belief in the c-spine hypermobility that is slowly killing me and scrambling my brain with every seizure. Not to mention the extreme pain of the hip flexors, and shoulder immobility. I fear I don't have long left before I loose congative ability at the rate it's effecting physically. Sleeping wrong puts me down for weeks if not rectified with illegal meds and manipulation, I cannot stress how genuine of a request this is, as emotionally charged as it maybe. I can't and refuse to be forced to live like this due to mass medical incompetence and refusal of treatment due to preconceived incorrect ideology. I am neuro spicy. I do not identify, I AM.
Don't want Ur money by sueing the system, I want ur help to be physically independent enuf to make my own money. For the all the love that is holy, can someone help me... Please. Before it's too late and I'm permanently bedridden.
Australia for reference.
2024.05.07 07:25 thedevilsivy I booked a trip to Japan during Golden Week 3 weeks in advance. Here’s how it went… (Osaka, Himeji, Koyasan, Naoshima / Teshima, Tokyo)
Got time off work all of a sudden that had to be taken during GW and my partner REALLY wanted to do Japan. I was game - I’ve been to Japan twice before, so it didn’t bother me that we’d have to be flexible and potentially miss/skip stuff.
How I booked/planned ⤵️
Exactly 3 weeks out, I booked flights to Haneda (used points, but they were about $900 from the East Coast). I booked all our lodging within the airline ticket 24 hour cancellation window. I wanted to be able to call off the trip and go somewhere else if I couldn’t lock down good lodging.
I booked 4 nights in Osaka at the Moxy in Shin Umeda using Marriott points. While the location wasn’t the most convenient of all time, it was a nice hotel and still in an okay area. I did request a room upgrade using my Platinum Elite benefits and they were not able to fulfill the request. May not have been a GW thing but I blame GW.
I wanted to do an overnight to Yakushima or Miyajima but both were too booked up. I switched gears and scored the very last room at the very last temple stay available in Koyasan. I paid $331 for what ended up being a gigantic room in a highly rated temple 5 minutes walk from Kongobuji (main attraction of Koyasan). Having looked up their non-Golden Week rates, I believe I paid a premium of ~$100 over the normal price. Really glad it worked out this way as Koyasan was very tranquil and uncrowded.
Surprisingly, the Art Islands were not totally booked out. I was able to book the exact hotel I wanted in Uno port for the exact dates I wanted. The price was about $40/night higher than normal. The only option left was a dorm room, which I expected to be a capsule, but it turned out their “dorm” rooms are all private rooms! The downside was a communal shower, but I never even used it because the stay came with free entry every day to the incredible seaside hot spring spa next door!
For the last night in Tokyo before flying out, I got a capsule at the exact hostel I wanted. I would have booked a private room if one was available, but for a stay totaling only 10 hours, the capsule was fine.
My partner reserved all our shinkansen tickets 1 week in advance using Smart Ex, and also reserved our seats on the train to Koyasan (not shinkansen, but reservation only). We actually ended up changing several of our reservations during the trip without any issues. For example, for the shinkansen ride from Okayama to Tokyo, we moved up our departure time twice the day of and booked an oversized luggage compartment at the last minute. I don’t believe any shinkansens we took allowed unreserved seats during GW so there was never any risk of having to stand.
I got scared off by posts about taking the shinkansen out of Tokyo on April 27, so I chose to fly to Osaka instead. Our transit ended up being nice and relaxed that way, plus I could take advantage of JAL domestic one-way flights being only 7.5k AA miles. I booked the flights 2 weeks in advance without any issues.
My partner booked ebike rentals and museum tickets for Naoshima and Teshima 3 weeks in advance. The only ticket we couldn’t get was Art House Project Kinza which is extremely difficult to get under ordinary circumstances anyway. It turned out our booking didn’t actually go through for Chichu Art Museum on Naoshima, and we didn’t realize it until the day of! It was obviously fully sold out during GW so I panicked but my partner kept refreshing the booking page throughout the day and several last-minute tickets popped up from cancellations.
In terms of meals, I didn’t bother with more than 1-2 restaurant reservations. We did fancy kaiseki meals, two different fancy wagyu experiences, and a high end sushi omakase in Japan less than a year ago. That doesn’t mean I winged it though. I planned every single meal in advance, and built our itinerary around restaurant opening times so we could always beat the queue. I also mapped out backup restaurants in case places were unexpectedly closed for GW, which did happen twice. Honestly not a bad idea to do so no matter when you travel, since Japanese businesses randomly close all the time.
Fully detailed itinerary below ⤵️
Day 1 (Saturday): Arrived HND. Left almost 3 hours between international arrival and domestic departure to Osaka. This ended up being way overkill but I didn’t know what kind of crowds to expect during GW.
Arrived at Itami late evening. Went out to see Massimiliano Pagliara’s DJ set at Compufunk Records until almost 3.
Day 2 (Sunday): Mostly a shopping day other than a quick stop at Namba Yasaka shrine. Hit the Tojiro knife store, Graf and Meetdish for fancy homewares, Indigena for all things vintage Snoopy, and Lara Vintage for vintage European womenswear where I scored some incredible pieces.
Got lunch at Oretachino-curry since the seafood izakaya I wanted to visit turned out to be closed for GW.
Got coffee at Glitch (the GOAT) and okonomiyaki & yakisoba for dinner at Ajinoya Honten.
I got a heavenly dry head spa treatment at I Refre Shinsaibashi while my partner window shopped in Denden town. Wanted Rikuro cheesecake afterward but it was mobbed and sold out so got consolation Mister Donut.
Day 3 (Monday): Successfully obtained Rikuro cheesecake in the shinkansen station on the way to Himeji!
Siphon coffee at the most charming shop in Himeji called Hamamoto Coffee (3.61 on Tabelog). No queue.
Visited Himeji Castle (busy but not uncomfortably so) & Kokoen Gardens (not busy) in the morning and Mt. Shosha/Engyoji (practically empty) in the afternoon. Got lunch at Ramen Koba in between. No queue.
Did more shopping after getting back to Osaka at Moyi Store (pottery), And Wander (gorpcore), Snowpeak (camping), and Mr. Kanso (tinned fish).
Horumonyaki for dinner at Yakiniku Susumu. No queue.
Day 4 (Tuesday): Woke up unnecessarily early to go to Kizu Market for breakfast at Maruyoshi Sushi. No queue.
Had really good tea and wagashi in even better pottery at Wad Omotenashi. No queue.
Hours of vintage clothing shopping at ACORN, Post Acorn, Kindal, NATS, and Village. If I came to Osaka again I’d definitely stay in Kitahorie or Minamisemba!
Got lunch at Udon Kyutaro (3.83 on Tabelog, no queue) and coffee at Aoma Coffee.
Walked through Kuromon Market then went tax-free shopping at Shinsaibashi Parco for random stuff like Miffy merch at Kiddyland, Hario coffee gear at Hands, and SK-II (IYKYK). Also did a ton of skincare shopping at Matsu Kiyo.
Dinner at Dotonbori Kani Doraku. Admittedly a tourist trap, but super tasty - glad I had a reservation as the wait was bananas. Got dessert at Cheese Tart Pablo. Short queue despite being in an incredibly crowded shopping street.
Day 5 (Wednesday): Traveled to Koyasan. Walked around and saw all the main shrines, had lunch at Hanabishi since the tofu shop I wanted to visit was closed for GW. Onsen at our temple stay before the shojin ryori dinner.
Did the obligatory and stunning night walk through Okunoin cemetery. We passed by the guided tour from Ekoin and were so glad we decided against it. It was way more magical being on our own in the misty dark night.
Day 6 (Thursday): Morning prayers and breakfast set meal at the temple, then looong travel to Uno for the Art Islands leg of the trip. Lunch at 551 Horai when changing trains in Osaka 🤤
Got kakigori at Omachido on reaching Uno, then took the ferry to Naoshima. Walked to the Lee Ufan and Benesse Art Museums and ate fresh locally farmed flounder at Yuunagi. No queues.
Closed out the night in the seaside rotenburo under the stars at Setouchi Onsen Tamanoyu.
Day 7 (Friday): Grabbed breakfast at the Marunaka grocery store, took the ferry to Teshima, and picked up our e-bike rentals from Setouchi Karen.
Hit Teshima Art Museum, Les Archives du Coeur, La Foret des Murmures, Needle Factory, and the Teshima Yokoo House. Got lunch at Shima along the way. No queue.
More kakigori at Omachido after getting the ferry back to Uno. Long queue! For dinner we had a very nice 14-course yakitori omakase at Sumi Habaki (Michelin Bib Gourmand). This was a reservation we had our hotel make for us a couple weeks in advance.
Hit the onsen again. It was a touch busy. More families with little kids than I’m used to seeing. GW problems.
Day 8 (Saturday): Grabbed breakfast at Marunaka again, took the ferry to Naoshima where there was an open-air marché going on right at the ferry terminal. Got a bunch of cute pottery and then took photos of the iconic red Kusama pumpkin.
Picked up e-bike rentals at Ougiya, booked it to Honmura lounge to get the best chance of a convenient entry time for Minamidera.
Saw Go’o Shrine, Kadoya, Gokaisho, Ishibashu, Chichu Art Museum, where we also had lunch at the cafe, Minamidera, Haisha, Tadao Ando Museum, Hiroshi Sugimoto Time Corridors, the yellow pumpkin, and Valley Gallery.
Ferried back to Uno, then headed to Tokyo, with a stop in Okayama where we got ramen at Fujiya. No queue.
Was so tired on reaching my hostel UNPLAN Kagurazaka that I just ate a Manneken waffle and passed out.
Day 9 (Sunday): Walked around Kagurazaka-dori and visited Tokyo Daijingu shrine.
Half the reason I stayed in Kagurazaka was so I could get breakfast at Pain des Philosophes (3.86 on Tabelog). Bread made with koshihikari koji and tangzhong 🔥 I only arrived 10 minutes before open and there was a substantial queue already.
Then immediately queued again at Tsujihan for their iiiiincredible kaisen don. Again, arrived 20 minutes before open but the queue was substantial.
My last stop before leaving for Haneda was tax-free shopping for souvenirs at the incredible Akomeya La Kagu. The other half of why I stayed in Kagurazaka. Got soo many fancy homewares and gourmet food items like hinoki room spray, kyoho grape jelly, Yuzusco hot sauce, a Tembea leather wallet, etc.
Haneda was not that busy. Had a nightmare scenario last summer where it took almost 2 hours just to get through the bag check queue. This time I had plenty of time to shop for Royce chocolates and eat Rokurinsha before my flight.
submitted by thedevilsivy to JapanTravel [link] [comments]
How I booked/planned ⤵️
Exactly 3 weeks out, I booked flights to Haneda (used points, but they were about $900 from the East Coast). I booked all our lodging within the airline ticket 24 hour cancellation window. I wanted to be able to call off the trip and go somewhere else if I couldn’t lock down good lodging.
I booked 4 nights in Osaka at the Moxy in Shin Umeda using Marriott points. While the location wasn’t the most convenient of all time, it was a nice hotel and still in an okay area. I did request a room upgrade using my Platinum Elite benefits and they were not able to fulfill the request. May not have been a GW thing but I blame GW.
I wanted to do an overnight to Yakushima or Miyajima but both were too booked up. I switched gears and scored the very last room at the very last temple stay available in Koyasan. I paid $331 for what ended up being a gigantic room in a highly rated temple 5 minutes walk from Kongobuji (main attraction of Koyasan). Having looked up their non-Golden Week rates, I believe I paid a premium of ~$100 over the normal price. Really glad it worked out this way as Koyasan was very tranquil and uncrowded.
Surprisingly, the Art Islands were not totally booked out. I was able to book the exact hotel I wanted in Uno port for the exact dates I wanted. The price was about $40/night higher than normal. The only option left was a dorm room, which I expected to be a capsule, but it turned out their “dorm” rooms are all private rooms! The downside was a communal shower, but I never even used it because the stay came with free entry every day to the incredible seaside hot spring spa next door!
For the last night in Tokyo before flying out, I got a capsule at the exact hostel I wanted. I would have booked a private room if one was available, but for a stay totaling only 10 hours, the capsule was fine.
My partner reserved all our shinkansen tickets 1 week in advance using Smart Ex, and also reserved our seats on the train to Koyasan (not shinkansen, but reservation only). We actually ended up changing several of our reservations during the trip without any issues. For example, for the shinkansen ride from Okayama to Tokyo, we moved up our departure time twice the day of and booked an oversized luggage compartment at the last minute. I don’t believe any shinkansens we took allowed unreserved seats during GW so there was never any risk of having to stand.
I got scared off by posts about taking the shinkansen out of Tokyo on April 27, so I chose to fly to Osaka instead. Our transit ended up being nice and relaxed that way, plus I could take advantage of JAL domestic one-way flights being only 7.5k AA miles. I booked the flights 2 weeks in advance without any issues.
My partner booked ebike rentals and museum tickets for Naoshima and Teshima 3 weeks in advance. The only ticket we couldn’t get was Art House Project Kinza which is extremely difficult to get under ordinary circumstances anyway. It turned out our booking didn’t actually go through for Chichu Art Museum on Naoshima, and we didn’t realize it until the day of! It was obviously fully sold out during GW so I panicked but my partner kept refreshing the booking page throughout the day and several last-minute tickets popped up from cancellations.
In terms of meals, I didn’t bother with more than 1-2 restaurant reservations. We did fancy kaiseki meals, two different fancy wagyu experiences, and a high end sushi omakase in Japan less than a year ago. That doesn’t mean I winged it though. I planned every single meal in advance, and built our itinerary around restaurant opening times so we could always beat the queue. I also mapped out backup restaurants in case places were unexpectedly closed for GW, which did happen twice. Honestly not a bad idea to do so no matter when you travel, since Japanese businesses randomly close all the time.
Fully detailed itinerary below ⤵️
Day 1 (Saturday): Arrived HND. Left almost 3 hours between international arrival and domestic departure to Osaka. This ended up being way overkill but I didn’t know what kind of crowds to expect during GW.
Arrived at Itami late evening. Went out to see Massimiliano Pagliara’s DJ set at Compufunk Records until almost 3.
Day 2 (Sunday): Mostly a shopping day other than a quick stop at Namba Yasaka shrine. Hit the Tojiro knife store, Graf and Meetdish for fancy homewares, Indigena for all things vintage Snoopy, and Lara Vintage for vintage European womenswear where I scored some incredible pieces.
Got lunch at Oretachino-curry since the seafood izakaya I wanted to visit turned out to be closed for GW.
Got coffee at Glitch (the GOAT) and okonomiyaki & yakisoba for dinner at Ajinoya Honten.
I got a heavenly dry head spa treatment at I Refre Shinsaibashi while my partner window shopped in Denden town. Wanted Rikuro cheesecake afterward but it was mobbed and sold out so got consolation Mister Donut.
Day 3 (Monday): Successfully obtained Rikuro cheesecake in the shinkansen station on the way to Himeji!
Siphon coffee at the most charming shop in Himeji called Hamamoto Coffee (3.61 on Tabelog). No queue.
Visited Himeji Castle (busy but not uncomfortably so) & Kokoen Gardens (not busy) in the morning and Mt. Shosha/Engyoji (practically empty) in the afternoon. Got lunch at Ramen Koba in between. No queue.
Did more shopping after getting back to Osaka at Moyi Store (pottery), And Wander (gorpcore), Snowpeak (camping), and Mr. Kanso (tinned fish).
Horumonyaki for dinner at Yakiniku Susumu. No queue.
Day 4 (Tuesday): Woke up unnecessarily early to go to Kizu Market for breakfast at Maruyoshi Sushi. No queue.
Had really good tea and wagashi in even better pottery at Wad Omotenashi. No queue.
Hours of vintage clothing shopping at ACORN, Post Acorn, Kindal, NATS, and Village. If I came to Osaka again I’d definitely stay in Kitahorie or Minamisemba!
Got lunch at Udon Kyutaro (3.83 on Tabelog, no queue) and coffee at Aoma Coffee.
Walked through Kuromon Market then went tax-free shopping at Shinsaibashi Parco for random stuff like Miffy merch at Kiddyland, Hario coffee gear at Hands, and SK-II (IYKYK). Also did a ton of skincare shopping at Matsu Kiyo.
Dinner at Dotonbori Kani Doraku. Admittedly a tourist trap, but super tasty - glad I had a reservation as the wait was bananas. Got dessert at Cheese Tart Pablo. Short queue despite being in an incredibly crowded shopping street.
Day 5 (Wednesday): Traveled to Koyasan. Walked around and saw all the main shrines, had lunch at Hanabishi since the tofu shop I wanted to visit was closed for GW. Onsen at our temple stay before the shojin ryori dinner.
Did the obligatory and stunning night walk through Okunoin cemetery. We passed by the guided tour from Ekoin and were so glad we decided against it. It was way more magical being on our own in the misty dark night.
Day 6 (Thursday): Morning prayers and breakfast set meal at the temple, then looong travel to Uno for the Art Islands leg of the trip. Lunch at 551 Horai when changing trains in Osaka 🤤
Got kakigori at Omachido on reaching Uno, then took the ferry to Naoshima. Walked to the Lee Ufan and Benesse Art Museums and ate fresh locally farmed flounder at Yuunagi. No queues.
Closed out the night in the seaside rotenburo under the stars at Setouchi Onsen Tamanoyu.
Day 7 (Friday): Grabbed breakfast at the Marunaka grocery store, took the ferry to Teshima, and picked up our e-bike rentals from Setouchi Karen.
Hit Teshima Art Museum, Les Archives du Coeur, La Foret des Murmures, Needle Factory, and the Teshima Yokoo House. Got lunch at Shima along the way. No queue.
More kakigori at Omachido after getting the ferry back to Uno. Long queue! For dinner we had a very nice 14-course yakitori omakase at Sumi Habaki (Michelin Bib Gourmand). This was a reservation we had our hotel make for us a couple weeks in advance.
Hit the onsen again. It was a touch busy. More families with little kids than I’m used to seeing. GW problems.
Day 8 (Saturday): Grabbed breakfast at Marunaka again, took the ferry to Naoshima where there was an open-air marché going on right at the ferry terminal. Got a bunch of cute pottery and then took photos of the iconic red Kusama pumpkin.
Picked up e-bike rentals at Ougiya, booked it to Honmura lounge to get the best chance of a convenient entry time for Minamidera.
Saw Go’o Shrine, Kadoya, Gokaisho, Ishibashu, Chichu Art Museum, where we also had lunch at the cafe, Minamidera, Haisha, Tadao Ando Museum, Hiroshi Sugimoto Time Corridors, the yellow pumpkin, and Valley Gallery.
Ferried back to Uno, then headed to Tokyo, with a stop in Okayama where we got ramen at Fujiya. No queue.
Was so tired on reaching my hostel UNPLAN Kagurazaka that I just ate a Manneken waffle and passed out.
Day 9 (Sunday): Walked around Kagurazaka-dori and visited Tokyo Daijingu shrine.
Half the reason I stayed in Kagurazaka was so I could get breakfast at Pain des Philosophes (3.86 on Tabelog). Bread made with koshihikari koji and tangzhong 🔥 I only arrived 10 minutes before open and there was a substantial queue already.
Then immediately queued again at Tsujihan for their iiiiincredible kaisen don. Again, arrived 20 minutes before open but the queue was substantial.
My last stop before leaving for Haneda was tax-free shopping for souvenirs at the incredible Akomeya La Kagu. The other half of why I stayed in Kagurazaka. Got soo many fancy homewares and gourmet food items like hinoki room spray, kyoho grape jelly, Yuzusco hot sauce, a Tembea leather wallet, etc.
Haneda was not that busy. Had a nightmare scenario last summer where it took almost 2 hours just to get through the bag check queue. This time I had plenty of time to shop for Royce chocolates and eat Rokurinsha before my flight.
2024.05.07 05:40 DyingOnHills Drake has clear predatory behavior towards minors - here's proof
WARNING
This is a long read. TL;DR is that Drake is a creep with a clear pattern of behavior towards minors, and I brought receipts if you want to know more.
This thread is partly based on this thread from 2022
Let me just start off by saying that I'm a certified Drake hater. I've thought the guy was a creep ever since the Millie Bobby Brown video and I'll proudly say with my chest FUCK DRAKE - but I'll still try to remain as objective as possible here, you know my bias now though.
THE 17 YEAR OLD AT SHOW
Drake is performing at a show in Ogden, Denver where he calls a girl up on stage. I really encourage you to watch this yourself, but since I know the majority of you won't watch it, I've described it for you below.
Video starts with her on stage, he asks her name, where she is from, asks the crowd to welcome her to the stage and tells her she looks great. He then asks her to give him two seconds because "I gotta be ready for you". He wipes off his sweat with a towel and proceeds to take her hand, put it on his shoulder, his hand on her hip/back and they slowdance for a few seconds. He spins her around and stop her with her back facing him. This is when it starts to get.. really weird.
Drake says "I told you I like your hair, right, what is it, like herbal essence or something?" while he's caressing her shoulder and smelling her hair. He says something I can't hear properly, puts the mic down and exposes her upper back and neck by pulling her shirt collar down. The crowd goes wild. He then starts kissing her shoulder and neck, putting her arms around her and fondle her breast. The girl on stage looks.. uncomfortable. A few seconds later he picks up the mic again and says "you can't have me carried away again before I get in trouble - how old are you?" She responds "17". The crowd has a mixed reaction - Drake says something that is hard to make out, because of the crowd but when it's clear he says "I can't go to jail yet, man - 17? Why do you look like that? You thick - look at all this!"
It's hard to make out exactly what he says afterwards because of the poor quality (2011 zoomed video at a concert, it's bad..), but he says something about it bringing them (the 17 year old and Drake) to a close and follows it up with "I got one question for you (...) I just want to know if (something about women in Colorado), I should just take one opportunity to take one home?" The girl nods "As a Colorado woman you'd enjoy that?" "Well, listen 17, I had fun - I don't know if I should feel guilty or not, but I had fun. I liked the way your breasts felt against my chest. I just want to thank you." He then puts the mic down again, grabs her hand and kisses it. You might think that was a little over the top, but he then immediately follows it up by putting his hand on her chin and kissing both of her cheeks, her forehead and then on HER FUCKING LIPS. I think he asks her to walk off stage, it's hard to make out, but then he says "It's okay. I'm only 23, I can do shit like that. It's all good, you know what I'm saying" and the video ends.
Addition: I know this girl has said she was not offended, violated, whatever you want to call it, but that's not the point. And I do not mean to sound like a complete dick, but it's not about her - it's about Drake and proving his pattern of behavior over many instances. If you stopped here because she denied it, you completely missed the point.
MILLIE BOBBY BROWN
Now this video was what really made me do a double take on Drake. Now, there's one very important fact to establish here and that is that Millie Bobby Brown at the time of this interview (18. September 2018) is 14 (Born 19. February 2004). I'll quickly transcribe the interview here:
Interviewer: What about your relationship with Drake, tell me about your friendship, how did this all come about?
Millie Bobby Brown: I love him. I met him in Australia and he's honestly so fantastic and a great friend and a great role model. You know we text - we just texted each other the other day and he was like "I miss you so much" and I was like "I miss you more". He's coming to Atlanta, so I'm definitely gonna go and see him and I'm so excited.
Interviewer 2: You and Drake? That's awesome. That's awesome..
Interviewer: What advice does he give you? What does he say?
MMB: About boys he helps me, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah he's great. He's wonderful, I love him.
Interviewer: What's his advice with boys?
MMB: Ehm, you know.. That stays in the text messages.
I'm sure it's obvious what is wrong here and I don't need to spell it out for any of you, but I do have one thing to add. If Drake is giving advice about boys and telling her "I miss you so much" they must have talked for a while. It's not something you say after knowing a person for a week. We are talking months at least. There's 7 months between her birthday and the interview - did Drake already start talking to her when she was 13? It would make sense that Drake was in Australia during their summer (Dec-Feb) for festivals/concerts/vacation. It's probably possible to figure out through social media posts, but I'm not digging that deep.
Millie has only commented on this once which was a few days later in a story on Instagram: https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2018/09/210592/millie-bobby-brown-defends-friendship-with-drake
I don't want or mean to infantilize her, but she was 14. She would have no chance of knowing if Drake actually was grooming her. There's not a chance that she could understand the dynamic at play and why it's wrong at that age.
Drake also defended their friendship on the song Another Late Night when he raps:
BILLIE EILISH
The year after the Millie Bobby Brown controversy Drake gets caught texting a minor again and this time it's Billie Eilish. She does a yearly interview with Vanity Fair, and in the 2019 version she's asked who's her most famous contact in her phone. That's when she reveals she's been texting with Drake and that he's so very nice to her. Billie is at the time of the interview (released 25. November 2019) 17 (born 18. December 2001).
Billie did defend Drake and their texting in an interview with Vogue ~3 months later:
BELLA HARRIS
This one is pretty fucking bad in my opinion. Bella Harris is the daughter of Jimmy Jam who's a record producer, songwriter etc. and has been very successful. Through him she's been in and around the entertainment/music business her whole life and met Drake that way.
There's an archive of photos posted here that contains the old IG posts she had with Drake. The first one was on May 5th, 2016 - Bella Harris is born 20. April, 2000. She had just turned 16 at the time. Objectively I think they are defendable since they are all music related - Rihanna concert, Summer Sixteen Tour (ironic name..) and the American Music Awards, but then two years later they reportedly start dating and that makes it really difficult to believe, especially with the last archived photo of them in 2018. Also the same photo that is referenced in this article talking about Drake renting an entire restaurant for an intimate dinner between them. Note that E! have confirmed it and are not backing down on their claim despite Harris denying it on Instagram.
KYLIE JENNER
Ever since the Kanye (also fuck Kanye for the record) vs. Drake beef we (or I at least) became aware of the fact that Drake has had a long relationship with the Kardashians/Jenners and known them for many, many years. In fact Drake performed at Kylie's sweet 16 back in 2013. You know what that Sweet 16 was specifically remembered for as well? Drake kissing Kylie on the cheek in front of everyone, including her then boyfriend Jaden Smith.
That's not out of the ordinary and would be very normal, if it wasn't for the clear pattern that is going on here, because guess what - 6 years later Drake and Kylie reportedly start dating, well.. dating/fucking/whatever you wanna call it. Admittedly this article is easily dismissed as paparazzi journalism and clickbait, but what if I told you that Drake has rapped this:
HAILEY BALDWIN (NOW BIEBER)
In 2016 there were reports that Hailey and Drake were dating. Apparently they hooked up at a party that Drake hosted, where another attendee is also mentioned that seems oddly relevant:
We can actually get even closer with certainty since we know that Hailey attended Kylie's Sweet 16 in August, 2013. Hailey is born 22. November 1996, so she was also 16 at the time. So it's another girl that Drake has known since she was a minor and started dating when he got the opportunity. This is not normal.
Another pattern that Drake also seem to follow is that likes to hook up with his friends girl. We know for a fact that he hooked up with Lil Wayne's girlfriend while he was in prison. He not only rap about it, but also admit it in an interview. It's not really hard to believe that he did the same with Bieber.
CYDNEY CHRISTINE (LIL CC)
Cydney Christine is a beatmaker and model - she produced the Drake song Money In The Grave and in a Complex interview/roundtable she talks about it and Drake.
In March 2023, Lil CC is on the No Jumper podcast and here she speaks about Drake and having her debut beat being a Drake single.
Lil CC: I played basketball, right, so he really was a fan or not a fan, sorry, supported one of my teammates at the time um..
Adam 22: And this is when you are in high school?
Lil CC: Yeah, in high school. So he was a fan of women's basketball - high school basketball - I was her teammate so he followed me because of her, and I was like "oh shit, bitch, you got Drake to follow me, like what the hell? Like that's so crazy". So he followed me and I lost it - I have to meet Drake, I love Drake, I've always loved Drake, still love Drake.
There's more to the conversation, but the relevant part is here is that it's just very, very strange for Drake to be a women's high school basketball fan. They are 16 at the time. He's a supporter of a 16 year old female high school basketball player as a 27 year old grown adult man. He has not hooked up with her, dated or anything of the sorts that we know of or that she has told - for the record.
AALIYAH
It's not like I have whole section for this, but his obsession with Aaliyah is strange considering everything else. I don't have a lot to contribute here, but if you don't know Aaliyah's story I'd recommend reading her Wikipedia and specifically the section about her personal life. If you think that 'obsession' is too strong a word for how much Drake admires her, I think you should take a look at this Complex article from 2018 and reconsider.
UNCONFIRMED STORIES
(I imagine this section will expand soon and I will continuously update it whenever I find or get sent new information to add here.)
(Another section that I imagine will have a lot of additional stuff being added, feel free to share with me and I'll add it.)
I know people say Jorja Smith, and I do agree that dating a 19-year old as a 30-year old man is weird and rather pathetic, but every other girl mentioned is related to minors. Their relationship if you can call it that was for sure toxic, and it seems like Drake was a piece of shit abusing the power dynamic between them. This is taken from the Drizzy subreddit, but I can't provide the source since that gets the post blacklisted as it's temporarily banned because of brigading.
FINAL NOTE
If you have anything to add, please post it in the comments and if credible/sourced I'll put it in the post. If I got anything wrong please correct me and I'll edit it. I could not be bothered to add more stuff to the last 2 sections, because this has taken considerable time to get done, so I was hoping to crowdsource a lot of that through you guys.
Please share this anywhere you want. I don't care about credit. If any media outlets wants to use it for their article or whatever, please do - feel free. You do not need to ask permission.
submitted by DyingOnHills to KendrickLamar [link] [comments]
This is a long read. TL;DR is that Drake is a creep with a clear pattern of behavior towards minors, and I brought receipts if you want to know more.
Let me just start off by saying that I'm a certified Drake hater. I've thought the guy was a creep ever since the Millie Bobby Brown video and I'll proudly say with my chest FUCK DRAKE - but I'll still try to remain as objective as possible here, you know my bias now though.
THE 17 YEAR OLD AT SHOW
Drake is performing at a show in Ogden, Denver where he calls a girl up on stage. I really encourage you to watch this yourself, but since I know the majority of you won't watch it, I've described it for you below.
Video starts with her on stage, he asks her name, where she is from, asks the crowd to welcome her to the stage and tells her she looks great. He then asks her to give him two seconds because "I gotta be ready for you". He wipes off his sweat with a towel and proceeds to take her hand, put it on his shoulder, his hand on her hip/back and they slowdance for a few seconds. He spins her around and stop her with her back facing him. This is when it starts to get.. really weird.
Drake says "I told you I like your hair, right, what is it, like herbal essence or something?" while he's caressing her shoulder and smelling her hair. He says something I can't hear properly, puts the mic down and exposes her upper back and neck by pulling her shirt collar down. The crowd goes wild. He then starts kissing her shoulder and neck, putting her arms around her and fondle her breast. The girl on stage looks.. uncomfortable. A few seconds later he picks up the mic again and says "you can't have me carried away again before I get in trouble - how old are you?" She responds "17". The crowd has a mixed reaction - Drake says something that is hard to make out, because of the crowd but when it's clear he says "I can't go to jail yet, man - 17? Why do you look like that? You thick - look at all this!"
It's hard to make out exactly what he says afterwards because of the poor quality (2011 zoomed video at a concert, it's bad..), but he says something about it bringing them (the 17 year old and Drake) to a close and follows it up with "I got one question for you (...) I just want to know if (something about women in Colorado), I should just take one opportunity to take one home?" The girl nods "As a Colorado woman you'd enjoy that?" "Well, listen 17, I had fun - I don't know if I should feel guilty or not, but I had fun. I liked the way your breasts felt against my chest. I just want to thank you." He then puts the mic down again, grabs her hand and kisses it. You might think that was a little over the top, but he then immediately follows it up by putting his hand on her chin and kissing both of her cheeks, her forehead and then on HER FUCKING LIPS. I think he asks her to walk off stage, it's hard to make out, but then he says "It's okay. I'm only 23, I can do shit like that. It's all good, you know what I'm saying" and the video ends.
Addition: I know this girl has said she was not offended, violated, whatever you want to call it, but that's not the point. And I do not mean to sound like a complete dick, but it's not about her - it's about Drake and proving his pattern of behavior over many instances. If you stopped here because she denied it, you completely missed the point.
MILLIE BOBBY BROWN
Now this video was what really made me do a double take on Drake. Now, there's one very important fact to establish here and that is that Millie Bobby Brown at the time of this interview (18. September 2018) is 14 (Born 19. February 2004). I'll quickly transcribe the interview here:
Interviewer: What about your relationship with Drake, tell me about your friendship, how did this all come about?
Millie Bobby Brown: I love him. I met him in Australia and he's honestly so fantastic and a great friend and a great role model. You know we text - we just texted each other the other day and he was like "I miss you so much" and I was like "I miss you more". He's coming to Atlanta, so I'm definitely gonna go and see him and I'm so excited.
Interviewer 2: You and Drake? That's awesome. That's awesome..
Interviewer: What advice does he give you? What does he say?
MMB: About boys he helps me, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah he's great. He's wonderful, I love him.
Interviewer: What's his advice with boys?
MMB: Ehm, you know.. That stays in the text messages.
I'm sure it's obvious what is wrong here and I don't need to spell it out for any of you, but I do have one thing to add. If Drake is giving advice about boys and telling her "I miss you so much" they must have talked for a while. It's not something you say after knowing a person for a week. We are talking months at least. There's 7 months between her birthday and the interview - did Drake already start talking to her when she was 13? It would make sense that Drake was in Australia during their summer (Dec-Feb) for festivals/concerts/vacation. It's probably possible to figure out through social media posts, but I'm not digging that deep.
Millie has only commented on this once which was a few days later in a story on Instagram: https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2018/09/210592/millie-bobby-brown-defends-friendship-with-drake
I don't want or mean to infantilize her, but she was 14. She would have no chance of knowing if Drake actually was grooming her. There's not a chance that she could understand the dynamic at play and why it's wrong at that age.
Drake also defended their friendship on the song Another Late Night when he raps:
Weirdos in my comments talkin' 'bout some Millie Bobby, lookIronically enough that very same song is also connected to the next person
Bring them jokes up to the gang, we get to really flockin'
BILLIE EILISH
The year after the Millie Bobby Brown controversy Drake gets caught texting a minor again and this time it's Billie Eilish. She does a yearly interview with Vanity Fair, and in the 2019 version she's asked who's her most famous contact in her phone. That's when she reveals she's been texting with Drake and that he's so very nice to her. Billie is at the time of the interview (released 25. November 2019) 17 (born 18. December 2001).
Billie did defend Drake and their texting in an interview with Vogue ~3 months later:
“The internet is such a stupid-ass mess right now,” says Eilish, who quit Twitter in 2018. “Everybody’s so sensitive. A grown man can’t be a fan of an artist? There are so many people that the internet should be more worried about. Like, you’re really going to say that Drake is creepy because he’s a fan of mine, and then you’re going to go vote for Trump? What the fuck is that shit?”On the song Another Late Night where Drake mentions Millie Bobby Brown, Lil Yachty is featured (one of Drake's gho.. co-writers) and he raps the line:
I let her go, she fine as hell but baby wasn't stylish (Yeah)Now - I know this is not Drake, I just thought it was a 'funny' coincidence that these two women are connected through their shared experiences with Drake and this song. On another note some might say that Drake should have asked Yachty to omit this line if he really was a friend of Billie Eilish since she has been quite vocal about sexualization of herself and women in general.
She had big tits like Billie Eilish but she couldn't sing (Drip)
BELLA HARRIS
This one is pretty fucking bad in my opinion. Bella Harris is the daughter of Jimmy Jam who's a record producer, songwriter etc. and has been very successful. Through him she's been in and around the entertainment/music business her whole life and met Drake that way.
There's an archive of photos posted here that contains the old IG posts she had with Drake. The first one was on May 5th, 2016 - Bella Harris is born 20. April, 2000. She had just turned 16 at the time. Objectively I think they are defendable since they are all music related - Rihanna concert, Summer Sixteen Tour (ironic name..) and the American Music Awards, but then two years later they reportedly start dating and that makes it really difficult to believe, especially with the last archived photo of them in 2018. Also the same photo that is referenced in this article talking about Drake renting an entire restaurant for an intimate dinner between them. Note that E! have confirmed it and are not backing down on their claim despite Harris denying it on Instagram.
KYLIE JENNER
Ever since the Kanye (also fuck Kanye for the record) vs. Drake beef we (or I at least) became aware of the fact that Drake has had a long relationship with the Kardashians/Jenners and known them for many, many years. In fact Drake performed at Kylie's sweet 16 back in 2013. You know what that Sweet 16 was specifically remembered for as well? Drake kissing Kylie on the cheek in front of everyone, including her then boyfriend Jaden Smith.
That's not out of the ordinary and would be very normal, if it wasn't for the clear pattern that is going on here, because guess what - 6 years later Drake and Kylie reportedly start dating, well.. dating/fucking/whatever you wanna call it. Admittedly this article is easily dismissed as paparazzi journalism and clickbait, but what if I told you that Drake has rapped this:
Yeah, I’m a hater to society/Real shit, Kylie Jenner that’s a side piece/Yeah, I got 20 muthafuckas in’ Kylies.You probably wouldn't have heard it, since it was on an unreleased track played on an Instagram Live back in 2020, but it does make it seem pretty likely that he did actually hook up with her, especially considering the response Drake posted
“A song that mark ran last night on night owl sound live set shouldn’t have been played,” he wrote, “It’s a song that leaked 3 years ago and got scrapped shortly after. He was just going too deep in the drake/future catalogue. Last thing I’d want to do is wake up having any friends of mine feeling disrespected so I just had to say that to start off the day.”Kylie was 22 at the time they reportedly hooked up.
HAILEY BALDWIN (NOW BIEBER)
In 2016 there were reports that Hailey and Drake were dating. Apparently they hooked up at a party that Drake hosted, where another attendee is also mentioned that seems oddly relevant:
Drake and Hailey weren't the only ones getting close, with Kylie Jenner and rumoured new boyfriend PartyNextDoor were seen "making out" at the party.Now again - there's nothing illegal in a 11 year age difference and dating a 19-year old as 30. It's weird, yes. But again we come back to the pattern. Why do Drake know Hailey? Through their similar friends and friend group (Kardashians/Jenners). How long has Drake known Hailey? Well, when Hailey was 19, she said they had known each other for a long time.
"It was almost like she was trying to make a statement," an insider added.
We can actually get even closer with certainty since we know that Hailey attended Kylie's Sweet 16 in August, 2013. Hailey is born 22. November 1996, so she was also 16 at the time. So it's another girl that Drake has known since she was a minor and started dating when he got the opportunity. This is not normal.
Another pattern that Drake also seem to follow is that likes to hook up with his friends girl. We know for a fact that he hooked up with Lil Wayne's girlfriend while he was in prison. He not only rap about it, but also admit it in an interview. It's not really hard to believe that he did the same with Bieber.
CYDNEY CHRISTINE (LIL CC)
Cydney Christine is a beatmaker and model - she produced the Drake song Money In The Grave and in a Complex interview/roundtable she talks about it and Drake.
Really the only artist I reached out to is Drake. I'd never met him, never spoke to him, I don't know why, but he has been following me for the past like 6 years. I don't know why..This interview was uploaded 17. December 2019, Cydney Christine's is born 21. July, 1997, meaning she was 22 at the time of the interview and 15-16 when Drake started following her. This is somewhat innocent but strange since Drake is 27 at the time. That's not what is really weird though.
In March 2023, Lil CC is on the No Jumper podcast and here she speaks about Drake and having her debut beat being a Drake single.
Lil CC: I played basketball, right, so he really was a fan or not a fan, sorry, supported one of my teammates at the time um..
Adam 22: And this is when you are in high school?
Lil CC: Yeah, in high school. So he was a fan of women's basketball - high school basketball - I was her teammate so he followed me because of her, and I was like "oh shit, bitch, you got Drake to follow me, like what the hell? Like that's so crazy". So he followed me and I lost it - I have to meet Drake, I love Drake, I've always loved Drake, still love Drake.
There's more to the conversation, but the relevant part is here is that it's just very, very strange for Drake to be a women's high school basketball fan. They are 16 at the time. He's a supporter of a 16 year old female high school basketball player as a 27 year old grown adult man. He has not hooked up with her, dated or anything of the sorts that we know of or that she has told - for the record.
AALIYAH
It's not like I have whole section for this, but his obsession with Aaliyah is strange considering everything else. I don't have a lot to contribute here, but if you don't know Aaliyah's story I'd recommend reading her Wikipedia and specifically the section about her personal life. If you think that 'obsession' is too strong a word for how much Drake admires her, I think you should take a look at this Complex article from 2018 and reconsider.
UNCONFIRMED STORIES
(I imagine this section will expand soon and I will continuously update it whenever I find or get sent new information to add here.)
- Back in 2021 Drake was being exposed on TikTok for his 'private Tinder' where one of his guys would go out and the hottest girls in town, interview them and find the one that Drake would like the best.
“He finds the girls and then he interviews them, and out of all the girls he interviews, he picks the one that he thinks is the best,” she continued. “Then, he drives her to Drake’s place, Drake has sex with her, and then he drives her home. So, basically, Drake has his own private Tinder.”
- This girl explaining how her friend was invited by Drake's crew and she was brought along as a +1. No ID check, very young girls. Worth a watch: https://www.tiktok.com/@simonestrauss/video/7365696116085591304
- This reddit post - yes I know this is 'so easy to just say', but I think the poster was very right by pointing this out:
I'm sure you guys won't believe me, but this is the type of situation where someone vanishing and telling you is the best you'll get.
- This YouTube comment about a girl claiming to be a victim of trafficking in Toronto in 2015 and that Drake had ties in all these circles.
[This video of a girl being interviewed on a podcast](https://www.reddit.com/KendrickLamacomments/1clusye/drakes_a_scout_but_hes_not_doing_it_for_basketball/).She talks about Drake starting to follow her, because he was a "supporter" of one of her friends on the team. This team is women's high school basketball. Watch it.Whole section about Lil CC/Cydney Chrstine now.
(Another section that I imagine will have a lot of additional stuff being added, feel free to share with me and I'll add it.)
- On the song Nice For What Drake raps:
You got a baby Benz, you got some bad friends
High school pics, you was even bad then
"If amazing was a young bitch I'd be going to jail...cause I'm fucking amazing" - Me
- This image of Drake and Malone from Drake's Instagram that's been deleted now. Malone is infamous for impregnating a 13 year old when he was 20.
- On the song The Heart Part 6 Drake raps:
Just for clarity, I feel disgusted, I'm too respected
If I was fucking young girls, I promise I'd have been arrested
I'm way too famous for this shit you just suggested
- Also on the song The Heart Part 6 Drake raps:
Only fuckin' with Whitneys, not Millie Bobby Browns, I'd never look twice at no teenager(DIS)HONORABLE MENTION
I know people say Jorja Smith, and I do agree that dating a 19-year old as a 30-year old man is weird and rather pathetic, but every other girl mentioned is related to minors. Their relationship if you can call it that was for sure toxic, and it seems like Drake was a piece of shit abusing the power dynamic between them. This is taken from the Drizzy subreddit, but I can't provide the source since that gets the post blacklisted as it's temporarily banned because of brigading.
In “Summer Games” Drake also says ”I kept it decent, even the secrets, kept it between you and I”. What secrets exactly? Well in Jaded, Drake says this woman “told him all her insecurities”.But that's all there is to it. I can't dig up anything else, so unless someone have something credible with sources, I don't think there's good enough reason to add her to the list further up.
It’s also interesting that the song “Summer Games” is about a woman who broke up with Drake right at the beginning of the summer. Drake and Jorja were dating in April of 2017 which is right before the summer starts and only lasted a couple weeks.
FINAL NOTE
If you have anything to add, please post it in the comments and if credible/sourced I'll put it in the post. If I got anything wrong please correct me and I'll edit it. I could not be bothered to add more stuff to the last 2 sections, because this has taken considerable time to get done, so I was hoping to crowdsource a lot of that through you guys.
Please share this anywhere you want. I don't care about credit. If any media outlets wants to use it for their article or whatever, please do - feel free. You do not need to ask permission.
2024.05.07 05:09 PussyWagon6969 Update: LED Wall Display Rig
 | First off, thanks to every ones feedback from my previous post! Thought I'd give some appropriate responses to the comments with another post and provide you an update of where I'm at today. submitted by PussyWagon6969 to simracing [link] [comments] TL;DR: learned a lot about the design flaws in the comments. I'm addressing them by eventually making it much larger but first I will build the small version (you saw previously) to better understand the physical build planning and custom parts I need to make in order to achieve the proposed screen curvature. Test build dimensions (aka not it's final form). Custom brackets (in blue) to achieve proposed curvature. Key Takeaways from the comments:
Where I'm At: Yesterday, I designed and 3D printed some brackets that get me the curvature I need represented in the CAD photo in the beginning of the post. So far, I'm seeing the major issues are going to be:
Very mini version to test the very first 3D printed brackets. Rear view of the custom brackets Detailed view of the brackets Top view of the bracket creating a 20 deg angle between panels Dat gap :/ Going to start by adjusting tolerance in my design to address this. |
2024.05.07 05:05 lalanaca Car door trim broke off when i closed a friend’s door
Last weekend, i spent some time at a festival in a park with a (newish) friend, let's call her shelby, her 2 kids and my daughter.
Her daughter wanted to say 'bye to mine and we went around to her side of the car, which was open since her mom had helped her get into the carseat; Shelby got into the driver's seat, so after our daughters bid each other farewell, I tried to shut the door. Turns out it was stuck because it had opened into a slopey piece of someone's front yard. I told her she might need to pull up a bit for the door to close, and she said (in a not nice tone of voice) ‘just lift it.’ I tried to, but when I shut it, I noticed a piece of the bottom of the door (imagine a raised piece if trim that runs along the bottom of the door) had started to detach. I told her, and she immediately jumped on me: "You broke my door?" She got out and said (again, extremely pissed and a bit unhinged) she didn't think it was safe to drive with the piece hanging off the car.
I started to panic, offered to call AAA, she dismissed it, and got out of the car and was fuming. I texted my friend (whose street we parked on) to see if she could send her husband out; he works on a van as a hobby, so I figured he would probably have some sound advice.
He came out and suggested she remove the piece that was hanging entirely; he proceeded to reach out and grab it to pull it off, and one of the tabs connecting it to the door indeed broke.
This is a newer car (2022, Hyundai SUV).
I got sucked into feeling like it was my fault that the door had broken; when I got home, I wrote her a text and apologized, saying I'd help her research where to fix it and help pay for the repair. I did some research Monday morning (looked to see if the part was at a local junkyard; of course not, given how new the car is).
(FYI, I ran the story by a few friends after it happened, and they were horrified she was blaming me and insisted I owed her nothing.)
When I texted her Monday to report I hadn't found the part at the local junkyard, she responded saying, "Oh babe you don't have to worry about my car. Leave it with me. No worries at all. It was an accident and I was just panicking but listen this is on me. Just buy me a drink tomorrow" (She was going out with a mutual friend of ours).
I let her know that I couldn't make it that evening y but would buy her a drink next time I saw her.
Then she appears again this weekend via text saying she'd gotten quotes, and it was going to cost $600 to fix and she couldn't afford it.
She even went as far as saying she would be open to me sending her money on a payment plan in monthly installments. what... the... actual... f. She also said she would be happy to go through insurance (which doesn't seem to make any sense since we all know the deductible will be at least $500). I’m also also wondering if she might’ve meant I should call my insurance company and see if they’ll cover it, but I have a suspicion that my insurance company would say I am not at fault.
Several ppl suggested blocking her but that's not really my style... she also has my address since I had invited her and her daughters over for a playdate (lesson learned).
Wise people of legaladvice subreddit, what’s your take? am I at fault legally and do I need to give her anything?
TLDR: I was trying to close a friend's car door, a part of it came loose, she's blaming me and wants money from me. My options are bascially to give her some money, and cut her out of my life entirely, or give her no money, and do the same. (I observed some questionable behavior in the days leading up to the event and this sealed the deal for me, I don't need this unstable person in my life AT ALL.)
submitted by lalanaca to legaladvice [link] [comments]
Her daughter wanted to say 'bye to mine and we went around to her side of the car, which was open since her mom had helped her get into the carseat; Shelby got into the driver's seat, so after our daughters bid each other farewell, I tried to shut the door. Turns out it was stuck because it had opened into a slopey piece of someone's front yard. I told her she might need to pull up a bit for the door to close, and she said (in a not nice tone of voice) ‘just lift it.’ I tried to, but when I shut it, I noticed a piece of the bottom of the door (imagine a raised piece if trim that runs along the bottom of the door) had started to detach. I told her, and she immediately jumped on me: "You broke my door?" She got out and said (again, extremely pissed and a bit unhinged) she didn't think it was safe to drive with the piece hanging off the car.
I started to panic, offered to call AAA, she dismissed it, and got out of the car and was fuming. I texted my friend (whose street we parked on) to see if she could send her husband out; he works on a van as a hobby, so I figured he would probably have some sound advice.
He came out and suggested she remove the piece that was hanging entirely; he proceeded to reach out and grab it to pull it off, and one of the tabs connecting it to the door indeed broke.
This is a newer car (2022, Hyundai SUV).
I got sucked into feeling like it was my fault that the door had broken; when I got home, I wrote her a text and apologized, saying I'd help her research where to fix it and help pay for the repair. I did some research Monday morning (looked to see if the part was at a local junkyard; of course not, given how new the car is).
(FYI, I ran the story by a few friends after it happened, and they were horrified she was blaming me and insisted I owed her nothing.)
When I texted her Monday to report I hadn't found the part at the local junkyard, she responded saying, "Oh babe you don't have to worry about my car. Leave it with me. No worries at all. It was an accident and I was just panicking but listen this is on me. Just buy me a drink tomorrow" (She was going out with a mutual friend of ours).
I let her know that I couldn't make it that evening y but would buy her a drink next time I saw her.
Then she appears again this weekend via text saying she'd gotten quotes, and it was going to cost $600 to fix and she couldn't afford it.
She even went as far as saying she would be open to me sending her money on a payment plan in monthly installments. what... the... actual... f. She also said she would be happy to go through insurance (which doesn't seem to make any sense since we all know the deductible will be at least $500). I’m also also wondering if she might’ve meant I should call my insurance company and see if they’ll cover it, but I have a suspicion that my insurance company would say I am not at fault.
Several ppl suggested blocking her but that's not really my style... she also has my address since I had invited her and her daughters over for a playdate (lesson learned).
Wise people of legaladvice subreddit, what’s your take? am I at fault legally and do I need to give her anything?
TLDR: I was trying to close a friend's car door, a part of it came loose, she's blaming me and wants money from me. My options are bascially to give her some money, and cut her out of my life entirely, or give her no money, and do the same. (I observed some questionable behavior in the days leading up to the event and this sealed the deal for me, I don't need this unstable person in my life AT ALL.)
2024.05.07 04:51 CritterThatIs The beef, soft power, and the fall of empires
The Kendrick/Drake rivalry, soft power and the fall of empires
My current hyperfixation is obviously the beef between Kendrick Lamar and Drake, which has taken to enormous proportions this last week (or days) in the culture, American yes, but not only that. This effort post, it is my attempt to link thoughts that I’ve had while following it, and especially arguments that I have read or heard coming from several people doing their own analyses.
Less than 24 hours later, Kendrick drops again, with “Not Like Us”, this time a catchy club hit, with an energy the polar opposite of meet the grahams. The level of accusations remains the same, or worse. The difference is that this track had been made to play in clubs, and by its structure encouraged the crowds to harmonize on lines such as “Certified Lover Boy? Certified pedophiles”, or “Tryna strike a chord and it's probably A-Minor”. In my opinion, this is the moment when Drake lost the battle for the public’s heart. Everyone was stunned after meet the grahams, not really knowing what to do with this filthy beast, but it seems hard to come back when people are dancing and singing along to a track calling you a pedophile.
Of course, everyone was waiting and is still waiting for solid evidence on these allegations, from Drake sure, but more importantly from Kendrick. Nevertheless, it’s hard not to wonder the why of these damning accusations, and why at this precise moment (the trial of Sean Combs, aka P. Diddy, began in early April 2024 with very similar accusations).
On May 5, Drake released “The Heart part 6”. He responds to Kendrick's allegations, and ends the song without rapping, saying he’s disinterested with continuing this beef. In my opinion, and I think I speak for a lot of the people following the culture even a little bit, this ain’t it. The name of the song, the little sample at the beginning and the first line are the only solid parts of the track. Why say that he discussed and planned the leak about the alleged daughter with his entourage, only to five lines later say that the moles are clowns? Why not show the receipts with phone calls, or screenshots, when that would prove his stroke of genius? Why give Kendrick bullets when he accuses him of being a manipulator? And what’s with that unhinged read of “Mother I Sober”? To say Kendrick has an obsession with child-touchers because he was SAed as a child when he was talking about his mother, who suffered this horror in her childhood and couldn’t see past her trauma ? Going there is the mark of sick mind. Not to mention that even with that stupid read, plucking that string when Kdot accuses him of being a pedo with his full chest ? That’s damning. Or, while the P. Diddy trial is going on—after Weinstein, after Epstein and all these rich sex pests, defending himself from this accusation by saying that he’s too famous and respected? Is he out of his mind? Especially when for almost 15 years he’s been seen as a creep when it comes to girls way too young for him. And besides, why even name drop Epstein or Millie Bobby Brown on his own? The guy fuels the allegations against him when he tries to defend himself.
Not to mention that just before that, Metro Boomin dropped on his Twitter his “BBL Drizzy” beat with a challenge: the best bars win a beat from him, free of charge. Literal stroke of genius when Drake dissed him and told him to stick to doing drums. Malicious compliance at its finest. Thousands of up-and-comers from all over the world rushed into the breach. I was able to hear bars in Japanese, German, or French. To quote Drake, it's no longer 20 to 1, but thousands to 1, with a disstrumental where the diss is baked in. Just like Not Like Us, it doesn’t help him that the beat is an earworm.
I leave you with this incredible bop from Charlie Curlis-Beard using the application that the American government wants to ban: TikTok
submitted by CritterThatIs to KendrickLamar [link] [comments]
My current hyperfixation is obviously the beef between Kendrick Lamar and Drake, which has taken to enormous proportions this last week (or days) in the culture, American yes, but not only that. This effort post, it is my attempt to link thoughts that I’ve had while following it, and especially arguments that I have read or heard coming from several people doing their own analyses.
Timeline
Well before the explosion of recent weeks between the two artists, they had collaborated in 2011 and 2012 on several tracks, and Drake, by then already a superstar, had even included Kendrick as the opening act on his tour Club Paradise. From 2013 onwards, however, their relationship tarnished when Kendrick took on several names in the industry with “Control”, including Drake. The majority took it pretty well. Not Drake. Over the several following years, the two have sent sneak disses at each other. Kendrick saw everything that is wrong with the rap industry personified in Drake, the man disgusted him, the very fact that he could exist and thrive made him retch. Drake, with his pop-infused hip hop, always ready to do features with trending artists to surf on the different fashions of the day in the genre, saw his ego swell alongside his success. And he couldn't stand being attacked, he has had beefs with too many people to count. Let's jump to March 2024, where Kendrick responded to J. Cole including him in the "Big Three", Drake, J. Cole, and himself with this line: "Motherfuck the big three, n**a, it’s just big me.” In April 2024, Drake released “Push Ups”, relatively unimportant in this affair, then “Taylor Made Freestyle”. That’s where shit exploded. Drake had used an AI on this track to copy 2Pac's voice, one of the giants of hip-hop. The Tupac Estate threatened him with a lawsuit, forcing him to delist the song. On April 30, Kendrick released “Euphoria” (Drake served as executive producer on both seasons of the series of the same name), a six-minute diss showing the extent of his contempt for Drake, threatening him throughout with retaliation if he didn't stay well above the belt (i.e. keep the family out of it—a social contract softened when Pusha T revealed the existence of Drake's son in “The Story of Adidon” in 2018). May 3, less than 72 hours after *Euphoria, Kendrick released “6:16 in LA”, where he implied that he had a mole in Drake’s entourage feeding him information. The same day, 15 hours after 6:16 in LA, Drake releases “Family Matters” with a music video, in which Drake appeared at the restaurant mentioned in Euphoria, and crushed a van of the same model that Kendrick had used in his early days and which appeared on the cover of his second studio album, “good kid, m.A.A.d city”. He talks about Whitney, Kendrick’s fiancée since 2015, accusing him of beating her, and of being an absent father.meet the grahams, Not Like Us, BBL Drizzy & The Heart part 6
About fifteen minutes after Family Matters, Kendrick releases “meet the grahams”, a song with a horror movie beat, in epistolary form to each member of Drake's family, Drizzy himself included. Honestly, my mouth was hanging open from the first line “Dear Adonis [...]” (where he addresses Drake's son directly), I couldn't believe it. Imagine for a moment that a man who hates your guts interrupts your family stroll, kneels down in front of your six-year-old child, and says “Dear [Adonis], I'm sorry that this person is your parent” while looking straight into your eyes. The disrespect shook me. In Family Matters, Drake had gone where Kendrick had warned him not to go, his family. But Kendrick had anticipated that angle of attack, and dressed him down in meet the grahams a mere fifteen minutes after the last drop, accusing him of being addicted to gambling, to prostitutes, to drugs, of having a hidden and abandoned second child, of not really being part of Black culture, and even more damning, of being a pedophile, hiding other pedophiles in OVO, and being part of a child sex trafficking ring. I insist, this is not what is expected in your typical beef. Juicy details about cheating, addiction problems, sure, but above all good bars that get people excited and talking. Not allegations of that magnitude. Not a song that makes people widen their eyes and wonder where such visceral hatred comes from.Less than 24 hours later, Kendrick drops again, with “Not Like Us”, this time a catchy club hit, with an energy the polar opposite of meet the grahams. The level of accusations remains the same, or worse. The difference is that this track had been made to play in clubs, and by its structure encouraged the crowds to harmonize on lines such as “Certified Lover Boy? Certified pedophiles”, or “Tryna strike a chord and it's probably A-Minor”. In my opinion, this is the moment when Drake lost the battle for the public’s heart. Everyone was stunned after meet the grahams, not really knowing what to do with this filthy beast, but it seems hard to come back when people are dancing and singing along to a track calling you a pedophile.
Of course, everyone was waiting and is still waiting for solid evidence on these allegations, from Drake sure, but more importantly from Kendrick. Nevertheless, it’s hard not to wonder the why of these damning accusations, and why at this precise moment (the trial of Sean Combs, aka P. Diddy, began in early April 2024 with very similar accusations).
On May 5, Drake released “The Heart part 6”. He responds to Kendrick's allegations, and ends the song without rapping, saying he’s disinterested with continuing this beef. In my opinion, and I think I speak for a lot of the people following the culture even a little bit, this ain’t it. The name of the song, the little sample at the beginning and the first line are the only solid parts of the track. Why say that he discussed and planned the leak about the alleged daughter with his entourage, only to five lines later say that the moles are clowns? Why not show the receipts with phone calls, or screenshots, when that would prove his stroke of genius? Why give Kendrick bullets when he accuses him of being a manipulator? And what’s with that unhinged read of “Mother I Sober”? To say Kendrick has an obsession with child-touchers because he was SAed as a child when he was talking about his mother, who suffered this horror in her childhood and couldn’t see past her trauma ? Going there is the mark of sick mind. Not to mention that even with that stupid read, plucking that string when Kdot accuses him of being a pedo with his full chest ? That’s damning. Or, while the P. Diddy trial is going on—after Weinstein, after Epstein and all these rich sex pests, defending himself from this accusation by saying that he’s too famous and respected? Is he out of his mind? Especially when for almost 15 years he’s been seen as a creep when it comes to girls way too young for him. And besides, why even name drop Epstein or Millie Bobby Brown on his own? The guy fuels the allegations against him when he tries to defend himself.
Not to mention that just before that, Metro Boomin dropped on his Twitter his “BBL Drizzy” beat with a challenge: the best bars win a beat from him, free of charge. Literal stroke of genius when Drake dissed him and told him to stick to doing drums. Malicious compliance at its finest. Thousands of up-and-comers from all over the world rushed into the breach. I was able to hear bars in Japanese, German, or French. To quote Drake, it's no longer 20 to 1, but thousands to 1, with a disstrumental where the diss is baked in. Just like Not Like Us, it doesn’t help him that the beat is an earworm.
Lol, who the fuck cares
Usually, I would say “more power to you” to those who don’t give a single fuck. But this hits different. Kendrick is not only attacking Drake but the entire culture industry (naming Weinstein in meet the grahams and using the word “industry” in every track starting from Euphoria). #MeToo was not very successful. Some wins, but overall, it wasn’t the revolution anyone hoped for. Way too much pushback from mainstream media. Attacking those giants is dangerous. For years, the hegemonic media has been abusing people who point at their attackers, the vast majority of them women accusing men. By asking about their dress, their perceived sexuality, the supposed kickbacks they’d get when blasting their abusers. We’ve seen this with Amber Heard, who, by physically defending herself from Johnny Depp the alcoholic, could not be the perfect victim, even though she fits all the other criteria: she’s white, she’s gorgeous, she’s talented. The list of people who were in Jeffrey Epstein’s Lolita Express has been published and…nothing. Or not much. On the other hand, right now, we have millions of people in all countries sharing tracks calling Drake and his entourage pedophiles, a global culture primed and ready for testimonies, even calling for them, if they exist. Imagine for a moment being someone who has had this kind of experience. Not the sordid details, but the anxiety, the fear of losing the small support network that you've been able to keep, the impossibility of filing a complaint when half the cop population are wife-beaters. Seeing Roman Polanski or Woody Allen parading around with a litany of allegations behind them. Contrast this with a moment when the culture dances while naming your abuser a pedophile, where it dissects his every word, finding filth in everything he says. Where thousands of artists put their best bars on a disstrumental ridiculing him. The court of public opinion is already on your side. It calls for you.The important things
There is a genocide going on. Several, in fact. As I write, Rafah, the so-called “safe enclave” in which the Gazans have been forced to take refuge by the Israeli occupying army at the start of this phase of an ethnic cleansing that's been going on for more than 75 years, is threatened. Nearly a quarter of the clothing we wear goes through the hands of the enslaved Uyghur people in China. So why talk about a stupid beef between two very rich men? It demonstrates the power of soft power in the structure of global culture. It provides, in what I think a completely unexpected way, keys to possible solutions to all the struggles pitting the small against the powerful. Make no mistake, the soft power that we see with Kendrick and Metro Boomin clowning on Drake is not the one coming from the American empire, but the one from the African diaspora, from those that are still being enslaved in the American prison system, and resonates powerfully throughout the world. I absolutely do not recognize myself in American culture as it is introduced in propaganda blockbusters like Top Gun Maverick or other tools of the DOD to promote the illusion of the American empire. The messy and contradictory culture of hip hop, on the other hand, yes. Its homophobic delusions and toxic masculinity while it worships the ground that 2Pac touched. Tupac Shakur, a theatre kid who did ballet and presented himself dressed like a leather daddy at times. That culture I vibe with. Kendrick's demonstration of the power of cultural circulation at a time when we see the facade of the imperial core collapse, its criminalization of anti-war protests and climate justice activists, while we’re in the middle of public health disasters—no, covid is not over—, humanitarian crises, and climate chaos makes me weep with joy. It’s the only time I’ve laughed out loud and danced in the streets since the beginning of October last year. This is one of the rare moments where I understand with my guts Mariame Kaba when she says “hope is a discipline”. It’s been years since I’ve written this much. So let's diss our so-called elites. Let's dance while calling them murderers. Let's bang on pots every single time they open their mouths. Chuck some eggs their way. Let's stand in the way of cops trying to assault students occupying universities (funny, suddenly they're against territorial occupations, uh?). Let's create safe spaces for those who have the courage, the need, or the opportunity to go further.I leave you with this incredible bop from Charlie Curlis-Beard using the application that the American government wants to ban: TikTok
2024.05.07 04:50 Poorly-Drawn-Beagle Wrong Halloween II (Chapter 3)
She was used to disturbing dreams. For a while after the… incident, they’d been full of clowns. Clowns with sickly green eyes, in bad boaters and garish Hawaiian shirts. This one was different, disturbing in a less placeable way.
The room is pristine white and clean. It should be full of light, but something about it is dim and dingy. Large windows line the walls, but outside there is thick smog or mist; only a few slender fingers of light can make it through. There is a seat at one of the windows. A boy sits on the seat, dressed all in white. Somehow she knows to call this boy ‘brother.’
The brother stares out at nothing in particular, unless it is merely the world beyond the walls. She decides to take a few steps closer to him, then stops dead, blood running cold. The brother turns in his seat to look dead at her. He seems almost entirely like an ordinary boy until you see his eyes. They were full of something like hate. Actually hate seems too mild a word for what is in those eyes. Hate is human. These eyes are full of a murderous intent, guided almost it seems by a higher-lower power. It transcends anything human.
In her mind’s eye she sees fat specks of blood spatter on a pitch black surface like drops of rain.
Barbara Gordon jerked half-awake in her hospital bed. Whoa. Damn sedative. She was embarrassingly aware of a puddle of drool next to her mouth and was grateful to see Dick was not around. So where was everyone? Pitch black out. What time was it? Eight? Nine?
Easy, Barb. You nodded off. Dick decided to go do something besides watch you sleep. Nothing to panic about. She was aware of her legs again. Or still, rather. Before the ‘incident’ she would have guessed that paraplegics lost all feeling in their legs. Even after making a hundred new adjustments, relearning how to pull on her pants, coming to terms with how screwed she’d be as a wheelchair-user with a second-floor apartment, even after all that, she still felt phantom pains going up and down her legs some nights.
Well. If everything went alright tonight, that might change. A doctor flown in from South Africa, a quick surgical technique that was younger than she was, and Barbara Gordon could walk again.
Damn, she was tired. Her eyes were stinging from the effort of keeping the lids open. She let them close. Not to sleep. Just a little rest… what was she dreaming about before she woke, anyway? Something about a brother wanting to kill his sister. The details were already slipping out of her mind.
She sighed comfortably. Not sleeping. Just a little rest.
***
Dick Grayson sipped from a cup of truly awful coffee (he had been warned) and grinned. Inconvenient delays aside, he’d managed to kill an enjoyable couple hours in the commissary with a pair of nurses named Pieter and Asa while Kadaver’s Mystery Theater played Thing From Another World. Dick was fairly certain, despite his best efforts, he was hitting it off with at least one of them.
“So you really grew up in a circus?”
“Yep.”
“Sorry, you just don’t seem the type.”
“To bite heads off chickens or balance a ball on my nose?”
“I mean. For example.”
“I was an acrobat. In an act with my parents and my Aunt Harry. We were the Flying Graysons.”
“No way.”
“Yeah. It was pretty normal, really. I had a teacher who traveled with us, I had chores, friends. And when we were on the road we had coffee even worse than this. Tastes like nostalgia.”
Easygoing chatter was interrupted by a noise from a nearby table, the only other one occupied. An orderly was seated there, one whose demeanor rather aptly conveyed ‘sleazeball’ without requiring too much consultation with his appearance. He was, to put it mildly, engaging a coworker standing slightly behind him, with a good deal more physicality than was strictly indicated professional ethics. The object of his affections, evidently accustomed to it, stalked off acidly while the seated orderly smirked.
Turning to his two new acquaintances, Dick raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“That’s Morty Drake,” Pieter murmured, distaste evident. “Not really the most popular guy.”
“Wouldn’t be here if we’d had even one more person apply for the job,” Asa added.
Morty Drake, still unabashed, was now singing softly to himself. “Ohhh, my love, my darling, I hunger for your pie. Oh, IIII’ll be theeere-” Abruptly, Dick made up his mind.
“Hey,” he called across the room. He was aware of Pieter and Asa looking alarmed but pressed on. “That was a bit much, don’t you think? Might want to think about apologizing.”
Drake shot him a murderous glance. “Might wanna mind your own business, dicklick.” To punctuate the suggestion, he pulled a switchblade that certainly wasn’t part of the standard uniform.
Wonder if he came up with that before or after hearing my name. Dick idly noticed a rather skillfully-done tattoo of a skeletal Musketeer on the man’s neck. He found it somehow uplifting to look for redeeming features in unpleasant people. He realized with a start that he still had ‘Maid of Honor’ tucked away in a pocket.
Dick heaved a deep, theatrical sigh. “Oh, I’d really rather not do this. But since you’re testing me. You want to take this outside?”
Drake sneered. “You’re on.”
As Pieter and Asa watched in horror, both men stood, and both sauntered languidly and insolently towards the exit door to the back alley. Dick popped the door open, then was shoved aside haughtily by Drake, who walked out first.
Dick gently shut the door behind him, let the lock click, and walked back to the table, where Pieter and Asa were staring, stupefied. He tossed Drake’s artfully-swiped security pass onto the table.
“Told him I didn’t want to do it.”
***
It took Mortimer Drake a few seconds to realize he’d been locked out, after which he immediately began seething with rage. His keycard wasn’t in its usual pocket, either, leaving him stuck with a few king-size dumpsters. A few moments’ pounding on the door met with no response, though it made him feel marginally better. That goddam skinny pretty boy fruit. Gonna kick his ass.
Mortimer Drake gritted his teeth and stomped in a random direction, trying to orient himself. Nothing looked familiar in the dark. And damn, it was cold. He fantasized about pounding the fruit’s face inside-out in the vain hope that sufficient anger could make him feel warm.
He had walked along perhaps thirty minutes when he suddenly felt a strange feeling that he was being watched. Instinctively his hand went for the switchblade in his pocket, and he stopped to look behind him. Nothing there. But the hairs on the back of his neck were still pricking. He shrugged and moved on, muttering.
It occurred to Mortimer that he wouldn’t be able to get in through the usual entrance without getting a chewing-out for losing his ID. They’d blame him for something like that, never mind the punk in the cafeteria stole it from him. But… there was a window in the hydrotherapy room that was sometimes left unlocked. He might make a discreet entrance through there.
He picked up his pace a bit, cramming down the sensation that the thing watching him was now following him.
***
Harvey Bullock drove rather faster than was advisable through the Old Gotham. Even flooded with light, the city seemed dark tonight, and the darkness seemed to be staring at him, dark like a pair of empty eyeholes. Out in the darkness was the Shape.
Gordon had been right. Bullock had been something very close to a good cop, once. Maybe he’d taken money, when it was offered. In this town, who hadn’t? But he’d known where to draw the line. He’d never roughed up anyone who didn’t have it coming and he’d never turned a blind eye to anything that would keep him up at night.
The first night Michael Myers had run amok in Gotham City, Bullock had been on duty. In point of fact, he had run the bastard over in a car. And then Myers’ insane psychiatrist had given him an unneeded tracheotomy via pen-knife. Hits had kept coming through weeks of recovery. All of a sudden he didn’t have a job anymore, and neither did Montoya. Took a shot, turned out to be the wrong target, and out on her ass. Accusations like that stuck with a cop all their lives, even ones who kept their jobs. Shoot the wrong person, and ‘extenuating circumstances’ were just two words in a dictionary.
Bullock had been lucky enough to land on his feet. But somehow he’d never left that night behind. The nightmares had started not long after he left the hospital. Even though it hadn’t been Myers that slashed his throat, in the dreams it was always that pale mask-face. Some kind of darkness had gotten into him that night, through the wound in his neck, and it had spent the last few years festering.
“I got you now, you bastard,” Bullock muttered to himself. “Evil dies tonight.”
Tonight. By his hand. No need for Gordon, no need for the Bat. This was between him and Myers. Harvey Bullock drove faster than was strictly necessary, into the darkness.
***
The hospital really was quiet for a Halloween night. Even in small towns, you could normally expect a few minor disasters on a Halloween. Evidently the lengthening string of local disasters was persuading Gothamites in the East End to stay indoors after dark. That should have been a relief to Dr. Kinsolving; with staff begging off early to go to parties, they were short-staffed by now. Instead the emptiness felt oddly disquieting. Her footsteps seemed to fill entire hallways.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she rounded a hallway and came face to face with Dick Grayson.
“Sorry!” the young man said, almost a whisper.
Kinsolving realized with a little embarrassment that she’d yelped, and grasped for her composure. “No. I- it’s Grayson, isn’t it? You were with Barbara Gordon. Are you still here?”
Grayson looked apologetic. “Sorry,” he said, voice still low. Kinsolving guessed that the Gordon girl must have been asleep. “We were waiting on some test results and never got them. I kind of lost track of time, I was-” and there he abruptly cut himself off, blushing slightly. “Actually I’ve been trying to get ahold of someone.”
He said it perfectly patiently, but to the doctor it sounded like the kind of patience that was just impatience trying to be polite. With another touch of embarrassment she realized how long they’d been kept waiting. On a slow night, too. Old Thompkins would have been furious.
“I’m terribly sorry, I don’t know what could be taking so long. Normally I would get some kind of notice from a technician-”
“Would his name be Morty Drake, by any chance?”
“Well… yes. How did you-”
“Never mind.”
“In any case, I’ll go along to the lab and see if the results are ready.”
“I’ll come with you,” Grayson said, innocently enough but clearly brooking no argument. Something about him seemed slightly on edge.
Kinsolving didn’t feel much like arguing, in any case. She was on edge herself. A little company would not be amiss. She walked briskly and Grayson kept pace with almost insolent ease. He had an undeniable charisma about him; Kinsolving was fairly certain he’d spent the last hour or so flirting with nursing staff.
Come to think of it. Where could Drake have gotten to? The doctor pursed her lips. Some day she was going to have to file a report on that one.
“Here we are,” she said at last. “If you could just hold on out here for a moment.” Grayson nodded obligingly.
Kinsolving poked her head into the lab, entering quietly, not quite tiptoeing. It was surprisingly dark. Too dark for anyone to be working. But she could make out someone sitting in the shadows. Judging from the hairstyle:
“Drake,” she said, relieved but annoyed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
It did not occur to her, in that moment, that Drake was unusually quiet for almost anyone and especially for Drake. It was only as she got closer to him that she began to realize something was wrong. Shondra Kinsolving had been a doctor in Gotham City a long time. She, it must be said, had seen some terrible things- things done by patients, to patients, to doctors, on occasion even by doctors (she still had nightmares about what had happened with Giggling Rendell in Surgery). Nothing had quite prepared her for what had happened to Drake.
It was the smell that reached her first, but she didn’t fully process it until she felt Drake’s shoulder. It squelched. He was soaking wet. And his skin, she could see by the little remaining light, was angry, blistering red, outermost layers peeled and torn away from musculature. Drake had been boiled alive, or drowned; either way his head had been held under scalding hot water- the hydrotherapy tanks, she realized- until he died.
Kinsolving’s hand started to go over her mouth, either to stifle a scream or hold back vomit. She wasn’t sure which. But before her hand could reach her mouth, another one was there. A wet, warm hand with strength like an iron bar. She tried to scream, couldn’t. Thrashed desperately, to no avail. Out of the corner of her eye, through panic, she saw the face of the man behind her, covered in a leathery clown mask of human skin. And she saw, clamped in the other hand, a syringe inching towards her eye, thumb slowly depressing the plunger. It was close now. Closer.
And suddenly the iron grip relaxed, and she could kick free. As she did, she could hear a grunt of surprise and the flapping of pages as a book hit the Shape in the side of its head. Less than a second later the Shape’s legs came out from beneath it, and it plummeted to the floor. She felt something grip her hand, and heard Dick Grayson’s voice. “Come on. Hurry.”
By some miracle her legs began working.
They were nearly out of the room, away from Drake’s mangled body and the nightmare in the clown-skin mask. A short distance that felt like an infinity. She heard a gasp of pain from Grayson, turned around- the Shape, lunging across the floor like an animal, had pulled a scalpel from somewhere, gashed the young man’s leg. A balletic kick to the masked face sent it sprawling once more.
They made it. Out of the room. Safe. No. Not safe.
Sheer survivor instinct was numbing her senses. She could barely comprehend what Grayson was doing as he pulled something- a short metal rod?- from a pocket, and jammed it through the door’s handles.
“What was that thing?” Kinsolving said. Shrieked, really. Her voice was not under her own control.
“Mask’s different. But I’m pretty sure we just met Michael Myers. Serial killer with very messed-up ideas about Halloween pranks.” Grayson said, grimly. He was leaning slightly, sparing a leg; the scalpel must have caught him. Kinsolving half-noticed a second layer of clothing under his jeans as he groped in his pocket.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I… When he stabbed me, I think he somehow got my knife.”
She barely paid attention to that. “Is that going to hold him?!”
Suddenly the door dented outwards. Once. Twice. Again and again. The brace in the handles bent from the strain.
“Smart money says no. Run.Not ideal conditions to be facing an unstoppable serial killer, he reflected, drawing the other one. Not that facing unstoppable serial killers is ideal itself.
Nothing for it. His thumb squeezed a button on a hidden button in the stick’s base, feeling it extend and hum. Not just a stick anymore. Now it was a stun baton. That ought to at least give Myers a headache. There wasn’t much use in getting into costume now. The opportune moment for a dramatic Nightwing entrance was officially past. So, time for another tried-and-true tactic. As the Master said, ‘if your opponent is of bad temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, so that he may grow arrogant.’
“Heeeeey, Mikey Mikey Mikey,” Dick called out, as he moved through the halls. “Didn’t hurt your face too bad, did I? The clown look suits you, by the way.”
He rounded another corner, carefully. Focus. Like Bruce taught you. What can you sense? At the moment, it was the lingering smell of Drake’s boiled flesh. Smelled like guilt. Sorry, Drake. All things considered, you didn’t deserve that. Along with the smell, there was sound-
Dick Grayson whirled out of the way just as a knife, pink-handled and engraved with MAID OF HONOR, stabbed through the air. A nanosecond from piercing his neck, the wicked curved blade gouged straight through the wall next to him. Dick felt his neck muscles tense as he imagined what that blade would have done to him.
He got his first good look at Michael Myers.
The Boogeyman did not look like a knife-wielding lunatic in a pair of coveralls. He looked like a shadow that had come to life, undying hatred in its black, black eyes. The preserved clown-skin mask, wrapped around his head on leather straps, gave his face a nightmare grin, and those black eyes peeked out now through the holes, alive with naked hate. Looking at him.
“Hi, Mike,” Dick breathed.
The Shape, of course, said nothing. But suddenly the knife was moving again, whistling through the air. Dick leapt. As the knife swung wildly he vaulted the monster’s shoulder, running across the wall and landing behind. Pain! lancing through his wounded leg as he hit ground. Ignore.
The stun baton struck Myers once, twice, before Dick flipped backwards out of reach. Just in time; another wild swipe came less than inches from slicing open his belly.
The Shape staggered slightly, only slightly. A hit from the baton should have left even a strong man curled up on the ground in agony. The Shape seemed barely annoyed. Oh, that’s a bad sign. Dick saw the muscles tense. The Shape did his trick well, but it was his only trick- lunge and slash. The day a Flying Grayson couldn’t dodge a knife was the day to hang up the tights.
Again. Alley-oop. Toro! Ole!
This time, ducking down and around, under the knife blow. Another few strong blows with the baton, and something like a grunt of pain this time. Oh, dear. Am I wearing you down?
Again. Again. Avoid the knife, hit him where he was weak. Zap. AGAIN!
The baton had struck Myers no fewer than a dozen times when he/it finally collapsed to one knee, heavy breathing agonized behind the clownface mask. The head dipped, and finally the Shape collapsed to the ground hard enough to shake the hallway. He was beaten.
Dick Grayson sighed. Huh. Okay. Not so tough after all, then. Though for a moment there…
The clown-mask still looked disturbing plastered across Myers’ expressionless face. Dick realized with a start that his hand was reaching out to remove it, almost entirely unbidden by his conscious mind. Time for that later. Get his knife and get some cuffs on him. He undid a spare pair from his belt and reached out, slowly.
Slowly…
He wasn’t sure what alerted him first. Something must have. When Myers stopped playing possum, when he sat upright with mechanical stiffness, he did so fast enough to finally get a good slash in. If Dick hadn’t suddenly sensed it coming it could have been his throat instead of his hand.
He heard himself swear. Felt himself stumble on his wounded leg.
And suddenly the Shape was on its feet and was grabbing him by his jacket, charging forward to pound him into a wall. Dick kept one hand on each of the Shape’s, the one near his throat and the one bringing the knife down at him. The strength was amazing, muscles like steel. Myers slammed him again, twice, vengefully.
Gotta flip him around. Or trip him. Get a foot around his leg-
Somehow Myers sensed his intention. They wriggled, struggled. And before Dick knew what was happening he heard broken glass and felt something sharp brushing his face. He plummeted backwards out the window into the cold night. Falling. Like Mom. Like Dad. Need my grapple.
Only a floor or two up. A short fall. Thought never got the chance to become action. The sickening smack into the ground. The thud against the back of his head, and his vision giving way to blackness.
From the broken window, Myers looked at the ground below, and at Dick Grayson’s quiet, still body sprawled out upon it. He tilted his face, either quizzically or admiringly. This one had surprised him. Come close to defeating him. No worries now. On to the main course. He turned on his heel and stalked for Barbara Gordon’s room.
***
The room was as quiet as a grave. There was not even the sound of footsteps on tile hallway outside, nor was there any creaking as the door opened. It still breezed open, silently, and a horribly patient shadow filled the doorframe. It moved across the floor, still silent, savoring. The low light of the room was simply swallowed up by the shadow, but a small gleam of it glinted off the knife’s blade.
The shadow reached the bedside. The blade rose over the shadow’s head with a terrible slowness, and it struck, plunging deep into the bedclothes. The shadow kept stabbing, almost frantically. And suddenly it stopped. The shadow ripped the bedclothes free and found, not Barbara Gordon’s mutilated body, but a neat line of pillows tucked into the bed. If the Shape felt anything like human emotions, it was probably feeling rage, now...
And down the dark hallway, struggling to crank the handrims both quickly and quietly and keep her breathing steady at the same time, Barbara Gordon was making for the elevator.
Come on come on come on come on.
Maybe the bad dreams had awakened her to the sounds of fighting. Or maybe the fighting itself had awakened her. Either way, the second she was awake, Barbara had been aware that something was wrong. Every instinct in her being screamed at her to run. After a quick push of the nurse call button had failed to raise anyone, she felt inclined to listen to instinct.
Come on come on come on come on. Why the FUCK didn’t I grab my phone? It was still in the pocket of her jeans, back in the room. It had seemed like too much wasted time to retrieve it as she fled. Now she was cursing herself. Phones on the wall. Stop to make a quick call?
Barbara turned her head over her shoulder. Someone was behind her. Something. Some Shape. Different from what she remembered, but horrifyingly unmistakeable.
Nope. No stopping. Barbara’s arms, raked with muscle, began working the handrims even faster. And Michael Myers, with his terrible patient determination, followed.
The elevator was at the end of the hall. Myers was moving slowly, toying with her like a cat with a mouse. Somehow the space of that single hallway seemed to stretch on for an eternity. She dared another glance over her shoulder.
In the half-light she saw Myers was no longer wearing the mask she remembered from those years ago. The pale emotionless face with the ratty hair and black hole eyes was now a tattered, lined clown face, ugly red lips drawn taut in a hideous grin. She had seen a face like that before, leering at her before a hammer pulled back and a trigger was pulled-
Her breath was in her throat again. Just go. Fast as you can. Just go. Just go. Come on come on come ON.
It seemed miraculous that she reached the elevator, almost unreal. Primed for flight, Barbara’s mind barely processed the corpse of the nurse stuffed in, limbs twisted and back bent backwards. The name tag read “Asa.” Don’t think about it. For now, survive.
She leaned overthe arm of the chair, hand slamming against a button almost at random. Ground floor. Most space to run. She hit it again. Again. Again again again. The clown-faced Shape was still striding towards her. The empty eyes, the malicious grin. Close close close come on come on COME ON. He was nearly on her.
The doors slid shut with barely a second to spare, and Barbara heard a hand slam against it furiously. About an eternity later, Barbara felt the elevator descend, and her heart begin to beat normally. The immediate fight-or-flight fear ebbed away, replaced with a sick, horrified feeling for the dead nurse she was sharing an elevator with. Dick, she thought, suddenly. Have to find him. He could be- no. He’s still alive. Find him. No. Prioritize. First get help. This fight isn’t on your terms. So first get help. Easy-peasy. Nearly there, in fact. You’re on the home stretch.
***
Michael Myers, normally silent, grunted with effort behind his new mask. His fingers jammed between the sliding doors of the elevator like crowbars. His muscles strained. The interlock groaned from the effort, then deformed, and, finally, with strength that was beyond freakish, Michael Myers pulled the doors apart. There was a heavy, sick breathing as the black eyes watched the cables of the elevator. Then, with swift and terrible movement, Michael Myers raised his knife and sliced through the cables.
submitted by Poorly-Drawn-Beagle to StoriesPlentiful [link] [comments]
The room is pristine white and clean. It should be full of light, but something about it is dim and dingy. Large windows line the walls, but outside there is thick smog or mist; only a few slender fingers of light can make it through. There is a seat at one of the windows. A boy sits on the seat, dressed all in white. Somehow she knows to call this boy ‘brother.’
The brother stares out at nothing in particular, unless it is merely the world beyond the walls. She decides to take a few steps closer to him, then stops dead, blood running cold. The brother turns in his seat to look dead at her. He seems almost entirely like an ordinary boy until you see his eyes. They were full of something like hate. Actually hate seems too mild a word for what is in those eyes. Hate is human. These eyes are full of a murderous intent, guided almost it seems by a higher-lower power. It transcends anything human.
In her mind’s eye she sees fat specks of blood spatter on a pitch black surface like drops of rain.
Barbara Gordon jerked half-awake in her hospital bed. Whoa. Damn sedative. She was embarrassingly aware of a puddle of drool next to her mouth and was grateful to see Dick was not around. So where was everyone? Pitch black out. What time was it? Eight? Nine?
Easy, Barb. You nodded off. Dick decided to go do something besides watch you sleep. Nothing to panic about. She was aware of her legs again. Or still, rather. Before the ‘incident’ she would have guessed that paraplegics lost all feeling in their legs. Even after making a hundred new adjustments, relearning how to pull on her pants, coming to terms with how screwed she’d be as a wheelchair-user with a second-floor apartment, even after all that, she still felt phantom pains going up and down her legs some nights.
Well. If everything went alright tonight, that might change. A doctor flown in from South Africa, a quick surgical technique that was younger than she was, and Barbara Gordon could walk again.
Damn, she was tired. Her eyes were stinging from the effort of keeping the lids open. She let them close. Not to sleep. Just a little rest… what was she dreaming about before she woke, anyway? Something about a brother wanting to kill his sister. The details were already slipping out of her mind.
She sighed comfortably. Not sleeping. Just a little rest.
***
Dick Grayson sipped from a cup of truly awful coffee (he had been warned) and grinned. Inconvenient delays aside, he’d managed to kill an enjoyable couple hours in the commissary with a pair of nurses named Pieter and Asa while Kadaver’s Mystery Theater played Thing From Another World. Dick was fairly certain, despite his best efforts, he was hitting it off with at least one of them.
“So you really grew up in a circus?”
“Yep.”
“Sorry, you just don’t seem the type.”
“To bite heads off chickens or balance a ball on my nose?”
“I mean. For example.”
“I was an acrobat. In an act with my parents and my Aunt Harry. We were the Flying Graysons.”
“No way.”
“Yeah. It was pretty normal, really. I had a teacher who traveled with us, I had chores, friends. And when we were on the road we had coffee even worse than this. Tastes like nostalgia.”
Easygoing chatter was interrupted by a noise from a nearby table, the only other one occupied. An orderly was seated there, one whose demeanor rather aptly conveyed ‘sleazeball’ without requiring too much consultation with his appearance. He was, to put it mildly, engaging a coworker standing slightly behind him, with a good deal more physicality than was strictly indicated professional ethics. The object of his affections, evidently accustomed to it, stalked off acidly while the seated orderly smirked.
Turning to his two new acquaintances, Dick raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“That’s Morty Drake,” Pieter murmured, distaste evident. “Not really the most popular guy.”
“Wouldn’t be here if we’d had even one more person apply for the job,” Asa added.
Morty Drake, still unabashed, was now singing softly to himself. “Ohhh, my love, my darling, I hunger for your pie. Oh, IIII’ll be theeere-” Abruptly, Dick made up his mind.
“Hey,” he called across the room. He was aware of Pieter and Asa looking alarmed but pressed on. “That was a bit much, don’t you think? Might want to think about apologizing.”
Drake shot him a murderous glance. “Might wanna mind your own business, dicklick.” To punctuate the suggestion, he pulled a switchblade that certainly wasn’t part of the standard uniform.
Wonder if he came up with that before or after hearing my name. Dick idly noticed a rather skillfully-done tattoo of a skeletal Musketeer on the man’s neck. He found it somehow uplifting to look for redeeming features in unpleasant people. He realized with a start that he still had ‘Maid of Honor’ tucked away in a pocket.
Dick heaved a deep, theatrical sigh. “Oh, I’d really rather not do this. But since you’re testing me. You want to take this outside?”
Drake sneered. “You’re on.”
As Pieter and Asa watched in horror, both men stood, and both sauntered languidly and insolently towards the exit door to the back alley. Dick popped the door open, then was shoved aside haughtily by Drake, who walked out first.
Dick gently shut the door behind him, let the lock click, and walked back to the table, where Pieter and Asa were staring, stupefied. He tossed Drake’s artfully-swiped security pass onto the table.
“Told him I didn’t want to do it.”
***
It took Mortimer Drake a few seconds to realize he’d been locked out, after which he immediately began seething with rage. His keycard wasn’t in its usual pocket, either, leaving him stuck with a few king-size dumpsters. A few moments’ pounding on the door met with no response, though it made him feel marginally better. That goddam skinny pretty boy fruit. Gonna kick his ass.
Mortimer Drake gritted his teeth and stomped in a random direction, trying to orient himself. Nothing looked familiar in the dark. And damn, it was cold. He fantasized about pounding the fruit’s face inside-out in the vain hope that sufficient anger could make him feel warm.
He had walked along perhaps thirty minutes when he suddenly felt a strange feeling that he was being watched. Instinctively his hand went for the switchblade in his pocket, and he stopped to look behind him. Nothing there. But the hairs on the back of his neck were still pricking. He shrugged and moved on, muttering.
It occurred to Mortimer that he wouldn’t be able to get in through the usual entrance without getting a chewing-out for losing his ID. They’d blame him for something like that, never mind the punk in the cafeteria stole it from him. But… there was a window in the hydrotherapy room that was sometimes left unlocked. He might make a discreet entrance through there.
He picked up his pace a bit, cramming down the sensation that the thing watching him was now following him.
***
Harvey Bullock drove rather faster than was advisable through the Old Gotham. Even flooded with light, the city seemed dark tonight, and the darkness seemed to be staring at him, dark like a pair of empty eyeholes. Out in the darkness was the Shape.
Gordon had been right. Bullock had been something very close to a good cop, once. Maybe he’d taken money, when it was offered. In this town, who hadn’t? But he’d known where to draw the line. He’d never roughed up anyone who didn’t have it coming and he’d never turned a blind eye to anything that would keep him up at night.
The first night Michael Myers had run amok in Gotham City, Bullock had been on duty. In point of fact, he had run the bastard over in a car. And then Myers’ insane psychiatrist had given him an unneeded tracheotomy via pen-knife. Hits had kept coming through weeks of recovery. All of a sudden he didn’t have a job anymore, and neither did Montoya. Took a shot, turned out to be the wrong target, and out on her ass. Accusations like that stuck with a cop all their lives, even ones who kept their jobs. Shoot the wrong person, and ‘extenuating circumstances’ were just two words in a dictionary.
Bullock had been lucky enough to land on his feet. But somehow he’d never left that night behind. The nightmares had started not long after he left the hospital. Even though it hadn’t been Myers that slashed his throat, in the dreams it was always that pale mask-face. Some kind of darkness had gotten into him that night, through the wound in his neck, and it had spent the last few years festering.
“I got you now, you bastard,” Bullock muttered to himself. “Evil dies tonight.”
Tonight. By his hand. No need for Gordon, no need for the Bat. This was between him and Myers. Harvey Bullock drove faster than was strictly necessary, into the darkness.
***
The hospital really was quiet for a Halloween night. Even in small towns, you could normally expect a few minor disasters on a Halloween. Evidently the lengthening string of local disasters was persuading Gothamites in the East End to stay indoors after dark. That should have been a relief to Dr. Kinsolving; with staff begging off early to go to parties, they were short-staffed by now. Instead the emptiness felt oddly disquieting. Her footsteps seemed to fill entire hallways.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she rounded a hallway and came face to face with Dick Grayson.
“Sorry!” the young man said, almost a whisper.
Kinsolving realized with a little embarrassment that she’d yelped, and grasped for her composure. “No. I- it’s Grayson, isn’t it? You were with Barbara Gordon. Are you still here?”
Grayson looked apologetic. “Sorry,” he said, voice still low. Kinsolving guessed that the Gordon girl must have been asleep. “We were waiting on some test results and never got them. I kind of lost track of time, I was-” and there he abruptly cut himself off, blushing slightly. “Actually I’ve been trying to get ahold of someone.”
He said it perfectly patiently, but to the doctor it sounded like the kind of patience that was just impatience trying to be polite. With another touch of embarrassment she realized how long they’d been kept waiting. On a slow night, too. Old Thompkins would have been furious.
“I’m terribly sorry, I don’t know what could be taking so long. Normally I would get some kind of notice from a technician-”
“Would his name be Morty Drake, by any chance?”
“Well… yes. How did you-”
“Never mind.”
“In any case, I’ll go along to the lab and see if the results are ready.”
“I’ll come with you,” Grayson said, innocently enough but clearly brooking no argument. Something about him seemed slightly on edge.
Kinsolving didn’t feel much like arguing, in any case. She was on edge herself. A little company would not be amiss. She walked briskly and Grayson kept pace with almost insolent ease. He had an undeniable charisma about him; Kinsolving was fairly certain he’d spent the last hour or so flirting with nursing staff.
Come to think of it. Where could Drake have gotten to? The doctor pursed her lips. Some day she was going to have to file a report on that one.
“Here we are,” she said at last. “If you could just hold on out here for a moment.” Grayson nodded obligingly.
Kinsolving poked her head into the lab, entering quietly, not quite tiptoeing. It was surprisingly dark. Too dark for anyone to be working. But she could make out someone sitting in the shadows. Judging from the hairstyle:
“Drake,” she said, relieved but annoyed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
It did not occur to her, in that moment, that Drake was unusually quiet for almost anyone and especially for Drake. It was only as she got closer to him that she began to realize something was wrong. Shondra Kinsolving had been a doctor in Gotham City a long time. She, it must be said, had seen some terrible things- things done by patients, to patients, to doctors, on occasion even by doctors (she still had nightmares about what had happened with Giggling Rendell in Surgery). Nothing had quite prepared her for what had happened to Drake.
It was the smell that reached her first, but she didn’t fully process it until she felt Drake’s shoulder. It squelched. He was soaking wet. And his skin, she could see by the little remaining light, was angry, blistering red, outermost layers peeled and torn away from musculature. Drake had been boiled alive, or drowned; either way his head had been held under scalding hot water- the hydrotherapy tanks, she realized- until he died.
Kinsolving’s hand started to go over her mouth, either to stifle a scream or hold back vomit. She wasn’t sure which. But before her hand could reach her mouth, another one was there. A wet, warm hand with strength like an iron bar. She tried to scream, couldn’t. Thrashed desperately, to no avail. Out of the corner of her eye, through panic, she saw the face of the man behind her, covered in a leathery clown mask of human skin. And she saw, clamped in the other hand, a syringe inching towards her eye, thumb slowly depressing the plunger. It was close now. Closer.
And suddenly the iron grip relaxed, and she could kick free. As she did, she could hear a grunt of surprise and the flapping of pages as a book hit the Shape in the side of its head. Less than a second later the Shape’s legs came out from beneath it, and it plummeted to the floor. She felt something grip her hand, and heard Dick Grayson’s voice. “Come on. Hurry.”
By some miracle her legs began working.
They were nearly out of the room, away from Drake’s mangled body and the nightmare in the clown-skin mask. A short distance that felt like an infinity. She heard a gasp of pain from Grayson, turned around- the Shape, lunging across the floor like an animal, had pulled a scalpel from somewhere, gashed the young man’s leg. A balletic kick to the masked face sent it sprawling once more.
They made it. Out of the room. Safe. No. Not safe.
Sheer survivor instinct was numbing her senses. She could barely comprehend what Grayson was doing as he pulled something- a short metal rod?- from a pocket, and jammed it through the door’s handles.
“What was that thing?” Kinsolving said. Shrieked, really. Her voice was not under her own control.
“Mask’s different. But I’m pretty sure we just met Michael Myers. Serial killer with very messed-up ideas about Halloween pranks.” Grayson said, grimly. He was leaning slightly, sparing a leg; the scalpel must have caught him. Kinsolving half-noticed a second layer of clothing under his jeans as he groped in his pocket.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I… When he stabbed me, I think he somehow got my knife.”
She barely paid attention to that. “Is that going to hold him?!”
Suddenly the door dented outwards. Once. Twice. Again and again. The brace in the handles bent from the strain.
“Smart money says no. Run.Not ideal conditions to be facing an unstoppable serial killer, he reflected, drawing the other one. Not that facing unstoppable serial killers is ideal itself.
Nothing for it. His thumb squeezed a button on a hidden button in the stick’s base, feeling it extend and hum. Not just a stick anymore. Now it was a stun baton. That ought to at least give Myers a headache. There wasn’t much use in getting into costume now. The opportune moment for a dramatic Nightwing entrance was officially past. So, time for another tried-and-true tactic. As the Master said, ‘if your opponent is of bad temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, so that he may grow arrogant.’
“Heeeeey, Mikey Mikey Mikey,” Dick called out, as he moved through the halls. “Didn’t hurt your face too bad, did I? The clown look suits you, by the way.”
He rounded another corner, carefully. Focus. Like Bruce taught you. What can you sense? At the moment, it was the lingering smell of Drake’s boiled flesh. Smelled like guilt. Sorry, Drake. All things considered, you didn’t deserve that. Along with the smell, there was sound-
Dick Grayson whirled out of the way just as a knife, pink-handled and engraved with MAID OF HONOR, stabbed through the air. A nanosecond from piercing his neck, the wicked curved blade gouged straight through the wall next to him. Dick felt his neck muscles tense as he imagined what that blade would have done to him.
He got his first good look at Michael Myers.
The Boogeyman did not look like a knife-wielding lunatic in a pair of coveralls. He looked like a shadow that had come to life, undying hatred in its black, black eyes. The preserved clown-skin mask, wrapped around his head on leather straps, gave his face a nightmare grin, and those black eyes peeked out now through the holes, alive with naked hate. Looking at him.
“Hi, Mike,” Dick breathed.
The Shape, of course, said nothing. But suddenly the knife was moving again, whistling through the air. Dick leapt. As the knife swung wildly he vaulted the monster’s shoulder, running across the wall and landing behind. Pain! lancing through his wounded leg as he hit ground. Ignore.
The stun baton struck Myers once, twice, before Dick flipped backwards out of reach. Just in time; another wild swipe came less than inches from slicing open his belly.
The Shape staggered slightly, only slightly. A hit from the baton should have left even a strong man curled up on the ground in agony. The Shape seemed barely annoyed. Oh, that’s a bad sign. Dick saw the muscles tense. The Shape did his trick well, but it was his only trick- lunge and slash. The day a Flying Grayson couldn’t dodge a knife was the day to hang up the tights.
Again. Alley-oop. Toro! Ole!
This time, ducking down and around, under the knife blow. Another few strong blows with the baton, and something like a grunt of pain this time. Oh, dear. Am I wearing you down?
Again. Again. Avoid the knife, hit him where he was weak. Zap. AGAIN!
The baton had struck Myers no fewer than a dozen times when he/it finally collapsed to one knee, heavy breathing agonized behind the clownface mask. The head dipped, and finally the Shape collapsed to the ground hard enough to shake the hallway. He was beaten.
Dick Grayson sighed. Huh. Okay. Not so tough after all, then. Though for a moment there…
The clown-mask still looked disturbing plastered across Myers’ expressionless face. Dick realized with a start that his hand was reaching out to remove it, almost entirely unbidden by his conscious mind. Time for that later. Get his knife and get some cuffs on him. He undid a spare pair from his belt and reached out, slowly.
Slowly…
He wasn’t sure what alerted him first. Something must have. When Myers stopped playing possum, when he sat upright with mechanical stiffness, he did so fast enough to finally get a good slash in. If Dick hadn’t suddenly sensed it coming it could have been his throat instead of his hand.
He heard himself swear. Felt himself stumble on his wounded leg.
And suddenly the Shape was on its feet and was grabbing him by his jacket, charging forward to pound him into a wall. Dick kept one hand on each of the Shape’s, the one near his throat and the one bringing the knife down at him. The strength was amazing, muscles like steel. Myers slammed him again, twice, vengefully.
Gotta flip him around. Or trip him. Get a foot around his leg-
Somehow Myers sensed his intention. They wriggled, struggled. And before Dick knew what was happening he heard broken glass and felt something sharp brushing his face. He plummeted backwards out the window into the cold night. Falling. Like Mom. Like Dad. Need my grapple.
Only a floor or two up. A short fall. Thought never got the chance to become action. The sickening smack into the ground. The thud against the back of his head, and his vision giving way to blackness.
From the broken window, Myers looked at the ground below, and at Dick Grayson’s quiet, still body sprawled out upon it. He tilted his face, either quizzically or admiringly. This one had surprised him. Come close to defeating him. No worries now. On to the main course. He turned on his heel and stalked for Barbara Gordon’s room.
***
The room was as quiet as a grave. There was not even the sound of footsteps on tile hallway outside, nor was there any creaking as the door opened. It still breezed open, silently, and a horribly patient shadow filled the doorframe. It moved across the floor, still silent, savoring. The low light of the room was simply swallowed up by the shadow, but a small gleam of it glinted off the knife’s blade.
The shadow reached the bedside. The blade rose over the shadow’s head with a terrible slowness, and it struck, plunging deep into the bedclothes. The shadow kept stabbing, almost frantically. And suddenly it stopped. The shadow ripped the bedclothes free and found, not Barbara Gordon’s mutilated body, but a neat line of pillows tucked into the bed. If the Shape felt anything like human emotions, it was probably feeling rage, now...
And down the dark hallway, struggling to crank the handrims both quickly and quietly and keep her breathing steady at the same time, Barbara Gordon was making for the elevator.
Come on come on come on come on.
Maybe the bad dreams had awakened her to the sounds of fighting. Or maybe the fighting itself had awakened her. Either way, the second she was awake, Barbara had been aware that something was wrong. Every instinct in her being screamed at her to run. After a quick push of the nurse call button had failed to raise anyone, she felt inclined to listen to instinct.
Come on come on come on come on. Why the FUCK didn’t I grab my phone? It was still in the pocket of her jeans, back in the room. It had seemed like too much wasted time to retrieve it as she fled. Now she was cursing herself. Phones on the wall. Stop to make a quick call?
Barbara turned her head over her shoulder. Someone was behind her. Something. Some Shape. Different from what she remembered, but horrifyingly unmistakeable.
Nope. No stopping. Barbara’s arms, raked with muscle, began working the handrims even faster. And Michael Myers, with his terrible patient determination, followed.
The elevator was at the end of the hall. Myers was moving slowly, toying with her like a cat with a mouse. Somehow the space of that single hallway seemed to stretch on for an eternity. She dared another glance over her shoulder.
In the half-light she saw Myers was no longer wearing the mask she remembered from those years ago. The pale emotionless face with the ratty hair and black hole eyes was now a tattered, lined clown face, ugly red lips drawn taut in a hideous grin. She had seen a face like that before, leering at her before a hammer pulled back and a trigger was pulled-
Her breath was in her throat again. Just go. Fast as you can. Just go. Just go. Come on come on come ON.
It seemed miraculous that she reached the elevator, almost unreal. Primed for flight, Barbara’s mind barely processed the corpse of the nurse stuffed in, limbs twisted and back bent backwards. The name tag read “Asa.” Don’t think about it. For now, survive.
She leaned overthe arm of the chair, hand slamming against a button almost at random. Ground floor. Most space to run. She hit it again. Again. Again again again. The clown-faced Shape was still striding towards her. The empty eyes, the malicious grin. Close close close come on come on COME ON. He was nearly on her.
The doors slid shut with barely a second to spare, and Barbara heard a hand slam against it furiously. About an eternity later, Barbara felt the elevator descend, and her heart begin to beat normally. The immediate fight-or-flight fear ebbed away, replaced with a sick, horrified feeling for the dead nurse she was sharing an elevator with. Dick, she thought, suddenly. Have to find him. He could be- no. He’s still alive. Find him. No. Prioritize. First get help. This fight isn’t on your terms. So first get help. Easy-peasy. Nearly there, in fact. You’re on the home stretch.
***
Michael Myers, normally silent, grunted with effort behind his new mask. His fingers jammed between the sliding doors of the elevator like crowbars. His muscles strained. The interlock groaned from the effort, then deformed, and, finally, with strength that was beyond freakish, Michael Myers pulled the doors apart. There was a heavy, sick breathing as the black eyes watched the cables of the elevator. Then, with swift and terrible movement, Michael Myers raised his knife and sliced through the cables.
2024.05.07 04:29 ComplexConsequence82 AITA for not giving my roommate her deposit back?
Despite this all happening within a few months, this is a very long story. I apologize in advance but there are a lot of details. This all took place about a year ago. I (20F) and my longtime best friend (20F) (let’s call her Jenny) decided to move in together after she came home from her freshman year of college. We had planned this during our senior year of high school as we had been best friends since elementary school. The summer between high school graduation and college my parents agreed to let her move in with me as they knew her very well, loved her and treated her as their daughter. We did this because she did not feel welcome in own home and felt her parents were too overbearing and mean to her.
Even searching for apartments in our area with her was a nightmare and I did most of the work. While the area we live is by no means expensive it is not cheap either especially as kids with not very well paying jobs. I was working full time while she worked a few hours a week for minimum wage (about $8/hour) which was a conscience choice on her part. She insisted that she did not want to pay more than $4-500 per month for rent. But she wanted things like a gym, pool, close to her work, etc. I told her that was unrealistic as even the places that would be close to that amount are the sketchiest places in town and would not offer those kinds of amenities. I convinced Jenny to agree to a nice apartment complex that did come with certain amenities but would cost about $650/ month for each of us. I had to pick up working hours with my dad on the side in order for the complex to approve us because she did not make virtually any money at the time.
We were set to move in when she came home in May. In April I received a call from the complex saying they had an apartment available right away if we were interested. I told her about the call and explained I was fine to wait for the top floor apartment (which was the one we both wanted) but she told me to accept the offer as she was coming home for 2 weekends in April to spend time with her boyfriend and pack, and told me she wanted to start moving things in before she officially moved back. Reluctantly, I agreed. And here begins the majority of the issues. Jenny in particular was very cheap. No I don’t mean frugal I mean cheap. She once, during high school, drove our friend group to her place of work to get Icecream we each ordered and she got hers for free because her friend was working at the time. She put it all on her card despite me saying I could pay in cash. She then calculated the price of what her icecream would’ve been into what everyone owed her. Meaning we paid for our own and also paid for hers despite getting hers for free?? She did things like this all the time. She called it the “friend tax” or said we owed her for putting it all on her card. That being said she told me that she should only have to pay for 6 days of April’s rent as she would only be staying there for 6 days. This despite it being HER idea to move in sooner. I am a recovering people pleaser so I agreed. She also sent me money for rent late so I had to pay an extra fee. She would not pay it.
The majority of issues revolved around 5 things: me “not being considerate of her”, my boyfriend Marcus (19M), her boyfriend Carl (19m), my cat, and her entitlement/health issues(a good portion of which I do not believe were as severe as she said, purely because of how she acted). Here is a list of some of the things we argued about:
She took advantage of me making more money than her ie, every time we went to the same place we drove my car so we would “use my gas and not hers” (including to her boyfriend’s house, because we were all friends and hung out).
Marcus and I accidentally fell asleep in a blanket fort we had built in the living room. She told me I was “not aloud to have sleepovers”.
She argued Marcus should pay for part of her rent if he would be spending the night over(he was already helping me pay for groceries which she was using as well).
Jenny complained about my cat going in her room but refused to close the door and open a window because it was too “stuffy”.
While agreeing before hand that I would have the bigger room and she would have the covered parking, she insisted that I pay more of the rent because I got the bigger room because her Carl’s brother “said so”. Even though she also got both of the storage closets in the main space to use for her things.
She claimed to have misophonia which if you don’t know is a condition in which you have physical reactions to certain sounds,ie, chewing, dripping water, taping pencils, etc. Except she claimed it went so far as to have smells also affect her and that her main reaction is anger. That being said she texted me angry one morning because I had made tuna fish sandwiches(one of her favorite foods she eats all the time) at about 2am after I got off work and she could still smell it in the morning at about 5am when she got up for work. She then told me I was “not aloud to make food when I came home from work”.
She told me I had to get my cat spayed because she was too loud when she was in heat. Her and her boyfriend Carl then harassed me for weeks about getting my cat spayed even though she never bled.
She kicked my cat’s butt right in front of me. Not hard but it was deliberate and she even said out loud she meant to do it “to teach her a lesson”.
I had explicitly told Jenny and Carl “Do not. Under any circumstances. Let my cat outside on the balcony.” She then sent me a picture and video on Snapchat while I was at work of her and Carl with my cat outside on the balcony. When confronted she said it was ok because her boyfriend’s family has outdoor cats and he said it was ok.
She got mad when my cat got zoomies because it triggered her.
She got mad when I told her repeatedly if she leaves things out on purpose knowing my cat will get into them. I will not pay replace the items when they do not belong in main areas, ie the earplugs she wore to sleep.
She was upset that Marcus and I were not as religious as her and Carl. (We grew up religious) She told me I was confused because I didn’t agree with her on certain things, And was always comparing our boyfriends
Marcus had bought a 12 pack of coke to leave at our apartment which I told her not to drink. She and her friends then took multiple and didn’t even drink them?? They all wasted about half of each can. She would not pay to replace them.
She was upset that I spent time with my boyfriend when she was home Instead of her. I tried planning times for us to hang out but she was usually hanging out with her boyfriend or other friends whenever I was not working.
Always left the AC/lights on when she was not in the room or not even home.
Told me I loved my cat more than her because I had told her I was responsible for my cat’s life as a pet owner and I was not responsible for her life as a friend.
Her and her boyfriend argued over the stupidest things. I had to buy our dish rack because they spent 10 minutes in Walmart arguing over a $4 difference. We both wanted the bigger one but her boyfriend said she didn’t need to spend $4 extra dollars on a bigger one. He did not live there. At any point in time. He literally made her cry in the isle.
She wanted my boyfriend to pay part of her rent any time he stayed over so I told her I would charge her boyfriend anytime he spent the day there (which happened often) because what’s the difference between day and night? It’s not a hotel.
Her and Carl insisted that I pay for a new couch because they didn’t like the one I brought with me.
Carl rearranged things in our apartment to how “he liked them” (kitchen cabinets, the fridge, the couch, etc)
Her boyfriend often spoke of how he had a crush on me first but then year’s later decided he liked her.
Carl also spoke openly about how he thinks if she ever died he would pursue dating me/ if we were the last 2 people on earth he would want to repopulate the earth with me.
He tried very hard to convince her not to go to college (which was 3 hours away) and implied that he couldn’t live without her. I had to be the one to convince her to go to school which is something she worked very hard for to get good grades.
He was “allergic to spicy”?? and. A bunch of other “health issues” he had as well. He was also incredibly cheap. He made her pay him back for half of a soda they split. He also made her cry about that, that day.
Then were all the issues with her proposal. I will list them quickly. He boyfriend tried to convince her she could not get a ring more than $50 because she didn’t need it and that she needed to pay for half of it. (I told her that was not ok) She said she wanted me and her sister there at the engagement and no one else. He decided to do it on a family vacation in front of his parents/siblings where me and her sister1 could not attend. He had a supposedly “recovered” c*orn addiction. He told her he didn’t want her family at the wedding but that if they eloped his family would be there. She always complained about her parents’ marriage because they got married young and yet here she was doing the same thing. And many more.
Now all this being said, I am not a perfect roommate either. I did few things that were wrong of me and I apologized for them and tried to compromise. For example I left my car in her covered parking space overnight because I didn’t know she would get home before me. I also did not tell her a couple of times my boyfriend stayed the night and I understand not knowing a man you don’t know very well is sleeping in your apartment would be frustrating and upsetting. For that we agreed that I would text her to let her know when he was staying the night. I said. Some mean things when I was frustrated as well not calling her names but calling her selfish/entitled, etc, and was not as understanding as I could’ve been.
At a certain point I told her I did not want to live with her any more and that I wanted to move out. This was mid June. I told her I would offer my half the lease to her boyfriend first and that if he didn’t want it she could either take over the rest of rent, move out too or I would sell my lease to a random stranger. She decided that she wanted to move out and I would stay. Because she was breaking her lease she had to pay a $300 move out fee. Which Jenny and Carl both tried to get me to pay in exchange they would leave a bunch of random shit they didn’t want and had gotten for free, ie a broken “desk”, tv stand and a table. I told her I would rather buy all my own things than pay for her to move out. She and I both had to sign a paper saying we both agreed to terms of breaking a lease which included that if she moved out she revoked any right to claim any portion of the deposit and was not responsible for any damages after she left. After she left I examined her room and bathroom she left and insane number of pinholes and sticky stuff all over the mirror in the bathroom from stickers she had put up. Not much but I took pictures as proof anyway. Surprise, they ended up leaving the garbage desk anyway. She was supposed to move out on June 30th. But she told me she was staying till July 1st so that her family could hold a pool/birthday party for her little sister2 and then would help her move out. I adore her little sister2 so I agreed.
She had told me that she was going to tell Carl’s parents to let her move in with them. Obviously they did not agree and she had to move in with her parents. Far away from her work and even further from her boyfriend. A few weeks later I was at the county fair where I saw her parents and her little sister2. They called me over and were very excited to see me. They asked for my side of the story. I told them everything. Everything about her boyfriend, the engagement, how she had been treating me. They told me their perspective as well. They had no idea about anything. Especially the engagement, they found out when she came home from the vacation. He had not even spoken to them about it and neither had she. They also only found out she needed a place to live just days before she moved out. Meaning she knew for 3 weeks she was moving out but was hoping to force Carl’s parents to let her move in. They both apologized for their daughter and said they were embarrassed of how Jenny had treated me. I also spoke to her sister1 after the fact, who told me that Jenny refused to tell her anything. But told her I was being a bitch. I was also like a daughter to her parents, and another sister to her siblings so I’m not surprised they didn’t believe her.
We did not speak after she moved out. The time passed for our lease to end and she sent me a text asking for her half of the deposit back. I told her I would not be sending her any money and to never contact me again. I have the document she signed showing that she had no legal right to the deposit. I figure it will cover a portion the rent she should have paid in April. Although I am over it now, it did hurt a lot that she threw away a 12 year friendship over stupid shit like that. But overall I am glad she showed me who she was before I included her into things like my wedding and my future children’s lives. So am I the asshole for not giving back her portion of the deposit? Or really for any other part of this story?
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Even searching for apartments in our area with her was a nightmare and I did most of the work. While the area we live is by no means expensive it is not cheap either especially as kids with not very well paying jobs. I was working full time while she worked a few hours a week for minimum wage (about $8/hour) which was a conscience choice on her part. She insisted that she did not want to pay more than $4-500 per month for rent. But she wanted things like a gym, pool, close to her work, etc. I told her that was unrealistic as even the places that would be close to that amount are the sketchiest places in town and would not offer those kinds of amenities. I convinced Jenny to agree to a nice apartment complex that did come with certain amenities but would cost about $650/ month for each of us. I had to pick up working hours with my dad on the side in order for the complex to approve us because she did not make virtually any money at the time.
We were set to move in when she came home in May. In April I received a call from the complex saying they had an apartment available right away if we were interested. I told her about the call and explained I was fine to wait for the top floor apartment (which was the one we both wanted) but she told me to accept the offer as she was coming home for 2 weekends in April to spend time with her boyfriend and pack, and told me she wanted to start moving things in before she officially moved back. Reluctantly, I agreed. And here begins the majority of the issues. Jenny in particular was very cheap. No I don’t mean frugal I mean cheap. She once, during high school, drove our friend group to her place of work to get Icecream we each ordered and she got hers for free because her friend was working at the time. She put it all on her card despite me saying I could pay in cash. She then calculated the price of what her icecream would’ve been into what everyone owed her. Meaning we paid for our own and also paid for hers despite getting hers for free?? She did things like this all the time. She called it the “friend tax” or said we owed her for putting it all on her card. That being said she told me that she should only have to pay for 6 days of April’s rent as she would only be staying there for 6 days. This despite it being HER idea to move in sooner. I am a recovering people pleaser so I agreed. She also sent me money for rent late so I had to pay an extra fee. She would not pay it.
The majority of issues revolved around 5 things: me “not being considerate of her”, my boyfriend Marcus (19M), her boyfriend Carl (19m), my cat, and her entitlement/health issues(a good portion of which I do not believe were as severe as she said, purely because of how she acted). Here is a list of some of the things we argued about:
She took advantage of me making more money than her ie, every time we went to the same place we drove my car so we would “use my gas and not hers” (including to her boyfriend’s house, because we were all friends and hung out).
Marcus and I accidentally fell asleep in a blanket fort we had built in the living room. She told me I was “not aloud to have sleepovers”.
She argued Marcus should pay for part of her rent if he would be spending the night over(he was already helping me pay for groceries which she was using as well).
Jenny complained about my cat going in her room but refused to close the door and open a window because it was too “stuffy”.
While agreeing before hand that I would have the bigger room and she would have the covered parking, she insisted that I pay more of the rent because I got the bigger room because her Carl’s brother “said so”. Even though she also got both of the storage closets in the main space to use for her things.
She claimed to have misophonia which if you don’t know is a condition in which you have physical reactions to certain sounds,ie, chewing, dripping water, taping pencils, etc. Except she claimed it went so far as to have smells also affect her and that her main reaction is anger. That being said she texted me angry one morning because I had made tuna fish sandwiches(one of her favorite foods she eats all the time) at about 2am after I got off work and she could still smell it in the morning at about 5am when she got up for work. She then told me I was “not aloud to make food when I came home from work”.
She told me I had to get my cat spayed because she was too loud when she was in heat. Her and her boyfriend Carl then harassed me for weeks about getting my cat spayed even though she never bled.
She kicked my cat’s butt right in front of me. Not hard but it was deliberate and she even said out loud she meant to do it “to teach her a lesson”.
I had explicitly told Jenny and Carl “Do not. Under any circumstances. Let my cat outside on the balcony.” She then sent me a picture and video on Snapchat while I was at work of her and Carl with my cat outside on the balcony. When confronted she said it was ok because her boyfriend’s family has outdoor cats and he said it was ok.
She got mad when my cat got zoomies because it triggered her.
She got mad when I told her repeatedly if she leaves things out on purpose knowing my cat will get into them. I will not pay replace the items when they do not belong in main areas, ie the earplugs she wore to sleep.
She was upset that Marcus and I were not as religious as her and Carl. (We grew up religious) She told me I was confused because I didn’t agree with her on certain things, And was always comparing our boyfriends
Marcus had bought a 12 pack of coke to leave at our apartment which I told her not to drink. She and her friends then took multiple and didn’t even drink them?? They all wasted about half of each can. She would not pay to replace them.
She was upset that I spent time with my boyfriend when she was home Instead of her. I tried planning times for us to hang out but she was usually hanging out with her boyfriend or other friends whenever I was not working.
Always left the AC/lights on when she was not in the room or not even home.
Told me I loved my cat more than her because I had told her I was responsible for my cat’s life as a pet owner and I was not responsible for her life as a friend.
Her and her boyfriend argued over the stupidest things. I had to buy our dish rack because they spent 10 minutes in Walmart arguing over a $4 difference. We both wanted the bigger one but her boyfriend said she didn’t need to spend $4 extra dollars on a bigger one. He did not live there. At any point in time. He literally made her cry in the isle.
She wanted my boyfriend to pay part of her rent any time he stayed over so I told her I would charge her boyfriend anytime he spent the day there (which happened often) because what’s the difference between day and night? It’s not a hotel.
Her and Carl insisted that I pay for a new couch because they didn’t like the one I brought with me.
Carl rearranged things in our apartment to how “he liked them” (kitchen cabinets, the fridge, the couch, etc)
Her boyfriend often spoke of how he had a crush on me first but then year’s later decided he liked her.
Carl also spoke openly about how he thinks if she ever died he would pursue dating me/ if we were the last 2 people on earth he would want to repopulate the earth with me.
He tried very hard to convince her not to go to college (which was 3 hours away) and implied that he couldn’t live without her. I had to be the one to convince her to go to school which is something she worked very hard for to get good grades.
He was “allergic to spicy”?? and. A bunch of other “health issues” he had as well. He was also incredibly cheap. He made her pay him back for half of a soda they split. He also made her cry about that, that day.
Then were all the issues with her proposal. I will list them quickly. He boyfriend tried to convince her she could not get a ring more than $50 because she didn’t need it and that she needed to pay for half of it. (I told her that was not ok) She said she wanted me and her sister there at the engagement and no one else. He decided to do it on a family vacation in front of his parents/siblings where me and her sister1 could not attend. He had a supposedly “recovered” c*orn addiction. He told her he didn’t want her family at the wedding but that if they eloped his family would be there. She always complained about her parents’ marriage because they got married young and yet here she was doing the same thing. And many more.
Now all this being said, I am not a perfect roommate either. I did few things that were wrong of me and I apologized for them and tried to compromise. For example I left my car in her covered parking space overnight because I didn’t know she would get home before me. I also did not tell her a couple of times my boyfriend stayed the night and I understand not knowing a man you don’t know very well is sleeping in your apartment would be frustrating and upsetting. For that we agreed that I would text her to let her know when he was staying the night. I said. Some mean things when I was frustrated as well not calling her names but calling her selfish/entitled, etc, and was not as understanding as I could’ve been.
At a certain point I told her I did not want to live with her any more and that I wanted to move out. This was mid June. I told her I would offer my half the lease to her boyfriend first and that if he didn’t want it she could either take over the rest of rent, move out too or I would sell my lease to a random stranger. She decided that she wanted to move out and I would stay. Because she was breaking her lease she had to pay a $300 move out fee. Which Jenny and Carl both tried to get me to pay in exchange they would leave a bunch of random shit they didn’t want and had gotten for free, ie a broken “desk”, tv stand and a table. I told her I would rather buy all my own things than pay for her to move out. She and I both had to sign a paper saying we both agreed to terms of breaking a lease which included that if she moved out she revoked any right to claim any portion of the deposit and was not responsible for any damages after she left. After she left I examined her room and bathroom she left and insane number of pinholes and sticky stuff all over the mirror in the bathroom from stickers she had put up. Not much but I took pictures as proof anyway. Surprise, they ended up leaving the garbage desk anyway. She was supposed to move out on June 30th. But she told me she was staying till July 1st so that her family could hold a pool/birthday party for her little sister2 and then would help her move out. I adore her little sister2 so I agreed.
She had told me that she was going to tell Carl’s parents to let her move in with them. Obviously they did not agree and she had to move in with her parents. Far away from her work and even further from her boyfriend. A few weeks later I was at the county fair where I saw her parents and her little sister2. They called me over and were very excited to see me. They asked for my side of the story. I told them everything. Everything about her boyfriend, the engagement, how she had been treating me. They told me their perspective as well. They had no idea about anything. Especially the engagement, they found out when she came home from the vacation. He had not even spoken to them about it and neither had she. They also only found out she needed a place to live just days before she moved out. Meaning she knew for 3 weeks she was moving out but was hoping to force Carl’s parents to let her move in. They both apologized for their daughter and said they were embarrassed of how Jenny had treated me. I also spoke to her sister1 after the fact, who told me that Jenny refused to tell her anything. But told her I was being a bitch. I was also like a daughter to her parents, and another sister to her siblings so I’m not surprised they didn’t believe her.
We did not speak after she moved out. The time passed for our lease to end and she sent me a text asking for her half of the deposit back. I told her I would not be sending her any money and to never contact me again. I have the document she signed showing that she had no legal right to the deposit. I figure it will cover a portion the rent she should have paid in April. Although I am over it now, it did hurt a lot that she threw away a 12 year friendship over stupid shit like that. But overall I am glad she showed me who she was before I included her into things like my wedding and my future children’s lives. So am I the asshole for not giving back her portion of the deposit? Or really for any other part of this story?
2024.05.07 04:23 Hitetsu_Shiruha RoR: Where the World Ends Chapter 10- [Titans of Old, God's of New]
Dracula viewed in an awe at the new form that Hel took on. He was viewing a beauty that, to him, he hadn't viewed since the time that he became what he was now. He looked down, and then began to laugh once more, with more joy behind it than before. “HAHAHA! I KNEW IT! I KNEW THAT JUST COULDN’T HAVE BEEN EVERYTHING THAT YOU HAD!” Hel began to speak, a sense of cheerfulness being heard in her voice. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to be having this kind of fun while fighting. I have to give you my gratitude there.”
From above the arena, Zhinu had a look of confusion on her face. “Chang’E, Nuwa, can someone explain just why he’s laughing at a time like this? I thought he was evil, not crazy.” Nuwa chuckled to herself, before responding, ”There should be a difference between the two, but sadly our vampiric friend finds a way to be both without trying all that hard.” Chang’E silently laughed to herself at Nuwa’s comment, before returning her attention to the battle.
Drac slowly began to stop his laughing, and when he did, he looked back towards the newly awakened Hel. “Well now, you’ve officially caught my attention with this little transformation of yours. Though I must ask, lady goddess, what exactly is this new form of yours?” Hel looked down at her hands, thinking to herself for a couple moments, before looking back up at Dracula. “Quite honestly, it’s just as new to me as it is to you. Though, even with that, I think I have an idea of what it could be.” Dracula let out a small chuckle at Hel’s response, and then he charged towards Hel, sword raised at his side as he swung. The blade stopped a foot before it hit Hel, being held back by what seemed to be an ice chunk. The ice spread across the blade and onto Drac’s arms. He pulled back, trying to separate himself from the ice, and he let his black mist consume the sword. As he did, the ice suddenly cracked, and fell apart. His arms were completely destroyed, leaving nothing left from his elbows down. He looked down, raising what was left of his hands to his face. The mist went over his arms, but they weren’t returning. Drac allowed the mist to consume his entire arm, and even some of his shoulder and chest, before the mist started to go back towards his hands, and left like it always did, his hands healed. Vlad looked back at Hel, who was holding her hand up to where the ice previously was. Dracula resummoned the sword into his right hand, walked towards Hel, and after raising the blade above his head, brought it down towards Hel. Once more, the blade was stopped by an ice chunk that wasn’t there prior. This time around, Drac immediately let the blade disappear into his mist, before swiping his left hand in front of him, and as he did, several black stakes were suddenly summoned from the mist and quickly charged towards Hel. But, rather than being stopped by ice like before, they were suddenly engulfed by flames that shot forward from Hel’s right hand. Dracula quickly jumped back, but he was still struck by the fire. It left some small burns on his cheek and armor, and similar to the ice, it took a greater amount of power for Drac to heal the wounds than it was before, but where the burns were, scars remained. “So, Dracula, want to keep up this dance of constant freezing and flaming, or do you want to try something more… suitable for a battle?” Dracula looked towards Hel, his face being relatively emotionless as he responded, “Sure… humor me with whatever you have in mind.”
[Nifelheim, Thousands of Years Ago]
“So, mind explaining to me where you’re bringing me?” Hel was in an area of her realm that she wasn’t familiar with. She was being led down a small corridor that sat in an abandoned tower at a far end of Nifelheim. No soul had been around the area since she took rule, and she didn’t know of anyone who’d ever previously resided even close to the tower. Under most circumstances, she never would’ve even considered being around the area, but this wasn’t most circumstances. She’d allowed a separate god, Vidarr, to explore the realm under the asking of Odin and Baldr, the ladder of which being the only reason she agreed. He’d been told by the All Father that something was down in the realm of the dead, something that Odin couldn’t tell him. Hel let Vidarr explore, and normally it would’ve ended at that. Vidarr was the third strongest Nordic god at the time, only being beaten by Thor and Odin, so she was confident that nothing down in the realm would’ve been a challenge for the god. But when he returned a week later, telling Hel that she needed to come with him back to where he went, she knew that something had to be seriously off. He wasn’t injured, more rattled than anything, and he had a much more serious face than what she was used to him having. She followed him, asking Ereshkigal of Mesopotamia, Persephone of Greece, and Santa Muerte of Mexico to take over rule of her realm for the time she was gone, of which they said they would. After a three day travel, they arrived at the tower, and now they were going through a secret entrance that Vidarr had found on his previous visit. He’d begun to use a small lantern in order to find his way around the pitch black corridors, and Hel was making sure to stay close to him. “Just a couple more minutes, we’re almost to what I needed to show you.”
“Why didn’t you just tell Odin about whatever you're showing? After all, he was the one who told you to come down to my realm and find whatever it is that you’ve found.”
“Just wait, just a little longer. You’ll learn soon enough. Though, speaking of father, I need you to promise me something.” Vidarr looked back towards Hel, complete seriousness being upon his face. Hel listened closely to what he said, and was surprised at his words. “I need you to promise me that no matter what happens when I show you this… thing... that you don’t say a word to any other god, including Odin.”
“We both know that I wasn’t going to tell Odin a word about anything, but that coming from you is… unsettling.” Hel’s response seemed to calm Vidarr a little, before he turned around and continued forward. They walked for a couple more minutes, before they arrived at a giant door at the end of the corridor, and as soon as Hel laid eyes on the door, she understood why Vidarr brought her specifically. The door was beaten up, the metal handle completely rusted, different markings ran across the frame. Right in the middle of the door, written in a bloodied red letters, read THE WORLD EATER, the words being crossed out, THE ENDER OF THE WISE, similarly crossed out, and THE BANISHED RULER OF THE DEAD, with a giant, similarly bloodied circle having been drawn around it multiple times over. Hel stared in shock at the words, reading them over and over again, trying to understand what it could mean.
"I tried to enter it upon my first visit, but something blinded me with a powerful white light as I tried to open the door, and when I could see again, I was outside the building entirely. That's when I started my venture back."
"From purely the look at this place, it seems like a trap waiting to be sprung. Add in the dark tower and the secret entrance to even get here, along with this unusual atmosphere, and you've got yourself a hard thing to deny."
"Must say that I agree with your assessment, but sadly, as this was something that Odin himself assigned me, and I'm not exactly in the position to question father, I must ask of you to risk this and figure out what's in there, if you're even able to get in. I'd suspect that it's something far too important to simply ignore."
"And should I die due to this important investigation, what will happen of my realm?"
"...I doubt father will waste time in finding the replacement for someone he'd already wished dead."
"So it already seemed. Fine, I'll go. But if I do end up dying, I'm gonna kill your ass."
"If you can find that way, I won't stop you." Hel snarled back at Vidarr's calm quip, before approaching the broken door.
When she got to it, she pushed against its exterior, and it began to open. As a small crack in-between the door and the frame could be seen, the white light that Vidarr spoke of began to appear, completely enveloping their sight. As Hel tried to cover her eyes, ultimately not helping in the slightest, she could hear Vidarr's voice, but was unable to distinguish what he said. She closed her eyes, and waited for the shine to disappear. It felt like hours before the light left, and it took her eyes some time to become accustomed to the dim lighting of the area where she was. The room was huge, and she wasn’t able to see the other end of the room, or the roof. She looked around, at first only noticing the absence of Vidarr. Soon though, she noticed something… unusual. In the middle of the room, sat a pile of bones. The bones were ginormous, and she guessed that they might’ve been the remains of a giant, though what kind she wasn’t sure. What she guessed to be the arms and legs of the remains were chained to the ground, and they seemed to be something of a prototype to what Odin tried to entrap Fenrir in, though she wasn’t sure. She continued to look around, getting a better look at the remains. They seemed to be almost icey, like they’d been frozen over for a large period of time. Either that, or they’d been made of ice entirely. She chuckled at the thought, before walking away and attempting to find some sort of way out. There was a small window near the roof of the room, but it was so high up that she knew it’d be impossible for her to even reach halfway there, let alone to the actual thing. She sighed, got next to one of the bones, and sat upon it. Upon touching the bone, she quickly jumped off in pain. The bone was… hot. She looked at the bone further, only to realize it was a charred black. She looked upon the other bones, and she realized that she wasn’t where she started at all. Now, in place of the frozen bones, were charred ones. The chains that held the first weren’t there on the second, and she looked back towards the window she had examined a few moments earlier. It was still there, but when she looked back at the charred remains, the frozen ones appeared again. Hel backed away from the body, not understanding what was going on. Suddenly, she heard a small rumbling, before it began to erupt into what felt like a full on earthquake. She was barely able to keep her balance, as she had to catch herself and balance herself. At that moment, she began to look towards the floor, but as soon as she looked back towards the remains, she realized the source of the shaking. Staring down at her, the reshape bones faced themselves toward the goddess, the skull only a few feet from her face. The eye holes were nearly pitch black, and the entire body was split down the middle, half of it the frozen remains of the first, and the other half the charred remains of the second. The left frozen, the right burned. Suddenly, within the eyes appeared two orbs. The one on the frozen side was a dark blue, and on the burned side was a darkened red. She stared in fear at what faced her, and then she heard it speak.
“You’re... the one... we’ve... waited for.” Hel didn’t know how to respond. Its mouth didn’t move, but she could hear the heavy breathing that interrupted their words. She was trying to understand what stood ahead of her, when suddenly the two orbs burst forth, charging towards Hel. She tried to dodge, but they were faster. They hit her, but they didn’t explode or actually hurt upon impact. Instead, they entered Hel’s body, seemingly being absorbed into her. When they disappeared into her, Hel began to feel dizzy. She fell to a kneeling position, holding her head, before succumbing to the dizziness and passing out. Her sight went black, before awakening, but not where she was prior. She was sitting in a black void, unable to see anything around her. Suddenly, she heard the voices again.
“Now... we are one.” Hel tried to respond, but found herself unable to talk. She tried again, but to no avail. It continued. “We… are the frost… and the fire. The Giants… of the Beginning and… the End. We… are Ymir… and Surtr.” She recognized those names. Ymir was the first giant to have been created, and his body was used to create the land upon which humanity lived, Midgard, or Earth. Surtr was the flame Jotunn who had given the Aesir the most trouble of anything they’d faced. It took the combined effort of nearly all of the Aesir to bring him down at the time, as the main three, Odin, Vidarr, and Thor, were off trying to deal with the army Surtr brought, along with Loki and Freyja. She was young at the time, but she had heard of what he did. She didn’t know how Surtr was killed, she just knew that he was, and it ended there. Though now, she had an idea of what might’ve transpired that day. She thought to herself, Just what do you want of me? She didn’t expect the giants to answer.
“All will be revealed… in due time. For now… remember that… you will never stand alone.” Hel didn’t know what to make of the response, and then, just as suddenly as she had entered the void, she awoke outside the tower. Vidarr was holding her in his arms, carrying her as he trekked back.
“...Where the hell am I now?” She said this partially groggily, as she felt as though she just woke up from a long nap.
“Oh, glad to see you’re finally up. Wasn’t even sure if you were still alive, but I learned quickly that you were just asleep. To answer you, we’re about three days out of your kingdom.” Hel processed that for a moment, taking a moment to understand what Vidarr just told her.
“...wait… THREE DAYS OUT OF MY KINGDOM!? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WALKING!? HOW LONG WAS I ASLEEP!?”
“About four and a half days, give or take a few hours, and also assuming I’m still moving the same pace as when we left to go to the tower. By the way, what happened to knock you out for so long?”
“What do you mean by that? When I could see after the flash, I was nowhere near you and was in some sort of chamber.”
“Really? Once the flash was over, I was standing in front of the entrance, and you were on the ground, out cold.” Hel couldn’t understand what happened. What she experienced couldn’t have been a dream, it was far too real for that to be the case. She spent a minute debating to herself what to say next. She was still confused about the events, and she knew that Vidarr wouldn’t just leave what she just said alone.
“I’m not so sure about everything myself, but-”
“That’s fine. If you aren’t sure of everything, then I’ve no reason to question further. Though, can you promise me that once you do, you tell me as soon as you can?”
“Sure thing, I’ve gotta pay you back for carrying me for four days.”
“Then it’s a deal. I’ll be awaiting your response.”
“By the way, you can drop me now, I can walk myself back.”
“As you wish, Queen of the Underworld.”
[Valhalla Arena]
"I've no intention of letting you leave this arena alive, but I'm far too curious as to the limits of these abilities to just end this fight so early. I believe you must feel something similar, right Drac?"
"...I'll give you that. Where do you wish to lead this idea of yours, cause quite honestly you'll bore me if you keep yapping rather than fighting?"
"Don't worry, it's honestly a simple one. I don't wanna leave this battle unsatisfied, so I'll do anything in order to fulfill my own desires in the battle. So, all I need of you, is to make sure you don't die too quickly, and I can promise that you'll die a death like no other. What do you say?"
Dracula couldn't help but laugh at the goddesses notion. The laugh was far more sympathetic than any of his normal laughs before. "Fine then. If that is your wish, goddess, then I'll gladly take on the challenge. With my honor as Dracula… no. With my honor as Vlad Teppes of Wallachia, I shall exceed your power, Queen of Nifelheim."
submitted by Hitetsu_Shiruha to ShuumatsuNoValkyrie [link] [comments]
From above the arena, Zhinu had a look of confusion on her face. “Chang’E, Nuwa, can someone explain just why he’s laughing at a time like this? I thought he was evil, not crazy.” Nuwa chuckled to herself, before responding, ”There should be a difference between the two, but sadly our vampiric friend finds a way to be both without trying all that hard.” Chang’E silently laughed to herself at Nuwa’s comment, before returning her attention to the battle.
Drac slowly began to stop his laughing, and when he did, he looked back towards the newly awakened Hel. “Well now, you’ve officially caught my attention with this little transformation of yours. Though I must ask, lady goddess, what exactly is this new form of yours?” Hel looked down at her hands, thinking to herself for a couple moments, before looking back up at Dracula. “Quite honestly, it’s just as new to me as it is to you. Though, even with that, I think I have an idea of what it could be.” Dracula let out a small chuckle at Hel’s response, and then he charged towards Hel, sword raised at his side as he swung. The blade stopped a foot before it hit Hel, being held back by what seemed to be an ice chunk. The ice spread across the blade and onto Drac’s arms. He pulled back, trying to separate himself from the ice, and he let his black mist consume the sword. As he did, the ice suddenly cracked, and fell apart. His arms were completely destroyed, leaving nothing left from his elbows down. He looked down, raising what was left of his hands to his face. The mist went over his arms, but they weren’t returning. Drac allowed the mist to consume his entire arm, and even some of his shoulder and chest, before the mist started to go back towards his hands, and left like it always did, his hands healed. Vlad looked back at Hel, who was holding her hand up to where the ice previously was. Dracula resummoned the sword into his right hand, walked towards Hel, and after raising the blade above his head, brought it down towards Hel. Once more, the blade was stopped by an ice chunk that wasn’t there prior. This time around, Drac immediately let the blade disappear into his mist, before swiping his left hand in front of him, and as he did, several black stakes were suddenly summoned from the mist and quickly charged towards Hel. But, rather than being stopped by ice like before, they were suddenly engulfed by flames that shot forward from Hel’s right hand. Dracula quickly jumped back, but he was still struck by the fire. It left some small burns on his cheek and armor, and similar to the ice, it took a greater amount of power for Drac to heal the wounds than it was before, but where the burns were, scars remained. “So, Dracula, want to keep up this dance of constant freezing and flaming, or do you want to try something more… suitable for a battle?” Dracula looked towards Hel, his face being relatively emotionless as he responded, “Sure… humor me with whatever you have in mind.”
[Nifelheim, Thousands of Years Ago]
“So, mind explaining to me where you’re bringing me?” Hel was in an area of her realm that she wasn’t familiar with. She was being led down a small corridor that sat in an abandoned tower at a far end of Nifelheim. No soul had been around the area since she took rule, and she didn’t know of anyone who’d ever previously resided even close to the tower. Under most circumstances, she never would’ve even considered being around the area, but this wasn’t most circumstances. She’d allowed a separate god, Vidarr, to explore the realm under the asking of Odin and Baldr, the ladder of which being the only reason she agreed. He’d been told by the All Father that something was down in the realm of the dead, something that Odin couldn’t tell him. Hel let Vidarr explore, and normally it would’ve ended at that. Vidarr was the third strongest Nordic god at the time, only being beaten by Thor and Odin, so she was confident that nothing down in the realm would’ve been a challenge for the god. But when he returned a week later, telling Hel that she needed to come with him back to where he went, she knew that something had to be seriously off. He wasn’t injured, more rattled than anything, and he had a much more serious face than what she was used to him having. She followed him, asking Ereshkigal of Mesopotamia, Persephone of Greece, and Santa Muerte of Mexico to take over rule of her realm for the time she was gone, of which they said they would. After a three day travel, they arrived at the tower, and now they were going through a secret entrance that Vidarr had found on his previous visit. He’d begun to use a small lantern in order to find his way around the pitch black corridors, and Hel was making sure to stay close to him. “Just a couple more minutes, we’re almost to what I needed to show you.”
“Why didn’t you just tell Odin about whatever you're showing? After all, he was the one who told you to come down to my realm and find whatever it is that you’ve found.”
“Just wait, just a little longer. You’ll learn soon enough. Though, speaking of father, I need you to promise me something.” Vidarr looked back towards Hel, complete seriousness being upon his face. Hel listened closely to what he said, and was surprised at his words. “I need you to promise me that no matter what happens when I show you this… thing... that you don’t say a word to any other god, including Odin.”
“We both know that I wasn’t going to tell Odin a word about anything, but that coming from you is… unsettling.” Hel’s response seemed to calm Vidarr a little, before he turned around and continued forward. They walked for a couple more minutes, before they arrived at a giant door at the end of the corridor, and as soon as Hel laid eyes on the door, she understood why Vidarr brought her specifically. The door was beaten up, the metal handle completely rusted, different markings ran across the frame. Right in the middle of the door, written in a bloodied red letters, read THE WORLD EATER, the words being crossed out, THE ENDER OF THE WISE, similarly crossed out, and THE BANISHED RULER OF THE DEAD, with a giant, similarly bloodied circle having been drawn around it multiple times over. Hel stared in shock at the words, reading them over and over again, trying to understand what it could mean.
"I tried to enter it upon my first visit, but something blinded me with a powerful white light as I tried to open the door, and when I could see again, I was outside the building entirely. That's when I started my venture back."
"From purely the look at this place, it seems like a trap waiting to be sprung. Add in the dark tower and the secret entrance to even get here, along with this unusual atmosphere, and you've got yourself a hard thing to deny."
"Must say that I agree with your assessment, but sadly, as this was something that Odin himself assigned me, and I'm not exactly in the position to question father, I must ask of you to risk this and figure out what's in there, if you're even able to get in. I'd suspect that it's something far too important to simply ignore."
"And should I die due to this important investigation, what will happen of my realm?"
"...I doubt father will waste time in finding the replacement for someone he'd already wished dead."
"So it already seemed. Fine, I'll go. But if I do end up dying, I'm gonna kill your ass."
"If you can find that way, I won't stop you." Hel snarled back at Vidarr's calm quip, before approaching the broken door.
When she got to it, she pushed against its exterior, and it began to open. As a small crack in-between the door and the frame could be seen, the white light that Vidarr spoke of began to appear, completely enveloping their sight. As Hel tried to cover her eyes, ultimately not helping in the slightest, she could hear Vidarr's voice, but was unable to distinguish what he said. She closed her eyes, and waited for the shine to disappear. It felt like hours before the light left, and it took her eyes some time to become accustomed to the dim lighting of the area where she was. The room was huge, and she wasn’t able to see the other end of the room, or the roof. She looked around, at first only noticing the absence of Vidarr. Soon though, she noticed something… unusual. In the middle of the room, sat a pile of bones. The bones were ginormous, and she guessed that they might’ve been the remains of a giant, though what kind she wasn’t sure. What she guessed to be the arms and legs of the remains were chained to the ground, and they seemed to be something of a prototype to what Odin tried to entrap Fenrir in, though she wasn’t sure. She continued to look around, getting a better look at the remains. They seemed to be almost icey, like they’d been frozen over for a large period of time. Either that, or they’d been made of ice entirely. She chuckled at the thought, before walking away and attempting to find some sort of way out. There was a small window near the roof of the room, but it was so high up that she knew it’d be impossible for her to even reach halfway there, let alone to the actual thing. She sighed, got next to one of the bones, and sat upon it. Upon touching the bone, she quickly jumped off in pain. The bone was… hot. She looked at the bone further, only to realize it was a charred black. She looked upon the other bones, and she realized that she wasn’t where she started at all. Now, in place of the frozen bones, were charred ones. The chains that held the first weren’t there on the second, and she looked back towards the window she had examined a few moments earlier. It was still there, but when she looked back at the charred remains, the frozen ones appeared again. Hel backed away from the body, not understanding what was going on. Suddenly, she heard a small rumbling, before it began to erupt into what felt like a full on earthquake. She was barely able to keep her balance, as she had to catch herself and balance herself. At that moment, she began to look towards the floor, but as soon as she looked back towards the remains, she realized the source of the shaking. Staring down at her, the reshape bones faced themselves toward the goddess, the skull only a few feet from her face. The eye holes were nearly pitch black, and the entire body was split down the middle, half of it the frozen remains of the first, and the other half the charred remains of the second. The left frozen, the right burned. Suddenly, within the eyes appeared two orbs. The one on the frozen side was a dark blue, and on the burned side was a darkened red. She stared in fear at what faced her, and then she heard it speak.
“You’re... the one... we’ve... waited for.” Hel didn’t know how to respond. Its mouth didn’t move, but she could hear the heavy breathing that interrupted their words. She was trying to understand what stood ahead of her, when suddenly the two orbs burst forth, charging towards Hel. She tried to dodge, but they were faster. They hit her, but they didn’t explode or actually hurt upon impact. Instead, they entered Hel’s body, seemingly being absorbed into her. When they disappeared into her, Hel began to feel dizzy. She fell to a kneeling position, holding her head, before succumbing to the dizziness and passing out. Her sight went black, before awakening, but not where she was prior. She was sitting in a black void, unable to see anything around her. Suddenly, she heard the voices again.
“Now... we are one.” Hel tried to respond, but found herself unable to talk. She tried again, but to no avail. It continued. “We… are the frost… and the fire. The Giants… of the Beginning and… the End. We… are Ymir… and Surtr.” She recognized those names. Ymir was the first giant to have been created, and his body was used to create the land upon which humanity lived, Midgard, or Earth. Surtr was the flame Jotunn who had given the Aesir the most trouble of anything they’d faced. It took the combined effort of nearly all of the Aesir to bring him down at the time, as the main three, Odin, Vidarr, and Thor, were off trying to deal with the army Surtr brought, along with Loki and Freyja. She was young at the time, but she had heard of what he did. She didn’t know how Surtr was killed, she just knew that he was, and it ended there. Though now, she had an idea of what might’ve transpired that day. She thought to herself, Just what do you want of me? She didn’t expect the giants to answer.
“All will be revealed… in due time. For now… remember that… you will never stand alone.” Hel didn’t know what to make of the response, and then, just as suddenly as she had entered the void, she awoke outside the tower. Vidarr was holding her in his arms, carrying her as he trekked back.
“...Where the hell am I now?” She said this partially groggily, as she felt as though she just woke up from a long nap.
“Oh, glad to see you’re finally up. Wasn’t even sure if you were still alive, but I learned quickly that you were just asleep. To answer you, we’re about three days out of your kingdom.” Hel processed that for a moment, taking a moment to understand what Vidarr just told her.
“...wait… THREE DAYS OUT OF MY KINGDOM!? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WALKING!? HOW LONG WAS I ASLEEP!?”
“About four and a half days, give or take a few hours, and also assuming I’m still moving the same pace as when we left to go to the tower. By the way, what happened to knock you out for so long?”
“What do you mean by that? When I could see after the flash, I was nowhere near you and was in some sort of chamber.”
“Really? Once the flash was over, I was standing in front of the entrance, and you were on the ground, out cold.” Hel couldn’t understand what happened. What she experienced couldn’t have been a dream, it was far too real for that to be the case. She spent a minute debating to herself what to say next. She was still confused about the events, and she knew that Vidarr wouldn’t just leave what she just said alone.
“I’m not so sure about everything myself, but-”
“That’s fine. If you aren’t sure of everything, then I’ve no reason to question further. Though, can you promise me that once you do, you tell me as soon as you can?”
“Sure thing, I’ve gotta pay you back for carrying me for four days.”
“Then it’s a deal. I’ll be awaiting your response.”
“By the way, you can drop me now, I can walk myself back.”
“As you wish, Queen of the Underworld.”
[Valhalla Arena]
"I've no intention of letting you leave this arena alive, but I'm far too curious as to the limits of these abilities to just end this fight so early. I believe you must feel something similar, right Drac?"
"...I'll give you that. Where do you wish to lead this idea of yours, cause quite honestly you'll bore me if you keep yapping rather than fighting?"
"Don't worry, it's honestly a simple one. I don't wanna leave this battle unsatisfied, so I'll do anything in order to fulfill my own desires in the battle. So, all I need of you, is to make sure you don't die too quickly, and I can promise that you'll die a death like no other. What do you say?"
Dracula couldn't help but laugh at the goddesses notion. The laugh was far more sympathetic than any of his normal laughs before. "Fine then. If that is your wish, goddess, then I'll gladly take on the challenge. With my honor as Dracula… no. With my honor as Vlad Teppes of Wallachia, I shall exceed your power, Queen of Nifelheim."
2024.05.07 04:17 coffeeglitterqueen Camp Thellgar Part 1 CW
CW Domestic Abuse, graphic violence
Laurens' stomach seemed to flip and jolt with every bump of the road heading to the motel outside of town just past the main supermarket. Tears ran down her face. The car seemed to fishtail a little as she pulled in. There were several problems with her marriage. Namely that he had a tendency to hit her and accuse her of cheating on him, the most current problem was that he was cheating on her in a motel where everyone they knew could see. Lauren wasn’t thinking clearly as she banged on the door, she knew right away which one it would be, she could hear his voice coming out from it.
“OPEN UP!” She screamed as she pounded on the door. Lauren could feel the general sensation of her hand resisting the door. It would more than likely hurt at some point when she came off the adrenaline.
Then, the door did open. Daniel Anderson took up most of the frame and he was angry. Lauren could hear the other girl screaming inside but couldn’t seem to make out what she was saying. Her heart stopped as she looked into Daniels face. He was Angry. The kind of angry that meant he was going to hurt her, whether anyone could see it or not. Lauren backed up from the door to avoid being pulled in the room but Daniel followed her out.
“What are you doing here?” Daniel asked, his voice was even and low.
“I got 3 calls about you being here with some whore.” Lauren retorted. She had started edging towards her car at this point, seemingly just now realizing she had made a mistake in coming here. Her heart seemed to stop altogether as he reached for her.
Lauren ducked but he caught her by her hair, winding the strands in between his fingers and yanking her face so that her ear was next to her mouth.
“What did you call her?” He whispered through clenched teeth. Lauren remained mute at this point. She felt her heart speed up and she tried to figure out how to get out of this. He’d never hit her in public. If she could remind him where they were… “I asked you a question Bitch.
If Lauren had thought about answering at that point, she wasn’t given much of a chance. He swung her head up and then forward, the momentum knocking her to the ground. Then he kicked her, pain blossomed through her midsection stunning her and she had trouble catching her breath. His hands came back down and he began throwing her face into the bumper of his bright red truck. After a minute he threw her face in a different direction and she could taste gravel.
“Apologize.” Daniel said in a warning voice. Lauren tried to stand but he mimicked grabbing at her and she shrunk back. “Apologize to her for calling her a whore.”
Lauren said nothing, somewhat in shock and mostly in pain. She could taste blood and felt it running down her face. This time he did grab her by the arm and yanked her up in one movement.
“I Said. Apologize. “ his words were clear.
Lauren did. Stuttering out an I’m sorry in the other woman’s direction.
“You best be home when I get back.” With that Daniel turned around and went back in the room.
Lauren assessed her options but she couldn’t seem to think. She reached into her car and pulled out her purse and started walking. She couldn’t see out of one eye hardly at all and her head hurt in the back. Lauren knew that he had pulled out a significant amount of hair. She thought she recalled some sharp pain as her face was pulled back from the bumper but she couldn’t remember what had happened in any sort of order.
It was at least 2 miles to her friend’s house. Lauren knocked on the door and when Natalie opened the door Lauren pushed her way in. Natalie hissed as she looked at Lauren.
“What the fuck happened?” Natalie gingerly touched her eye, or at least Laurent thought it was the area heer eye should be in. She hadn’t realized how numb she’d been getting here until she wasn’t numb anymore and the throbbing started up. Todd, Natalie’s husband came from the bedrooms and audibly gasped as well. Lauren headed for the hair salon in the back as Natalie whispered to Todd.
Natalie found Lauren in the salon, lights on and sitting in the chair.
“I’ve got enough here for a haircut but I’ll have to get back to you on the last minute/middle of the night fee. I need it all chopped off if you would. I know he ripped a bit in the back so it’s uneven anyway. Honestly it’s irresponsible to keep my hair this long anyway,do people still do that Kate plus Eight hair? The may I speak to your manager hair?” Lauren had trouble forming the words but she kept going hoping that Natalie understood her. She purposefully faced away from the mirror.
“I can cut your hair for sure. Wouldn’t you rather go to a hospital?” Natalie asked carefully playing with Lauren’s hair. Lauren shookher head quickly and immediately regretted it. Todd came in the room with an ice pack and a washcloth. Natalie filled up a bowl of water and started carefully patting away dried blood and finding the actual cuts. There was water and ibuprofen with a few tylenol mixed in, Lauren had trouble with it.
Natalie cut her hair silently. Working around one spot and then going back to it before announcing that it was as good as it was going to get there until the massive cut healed.
“You want to stay here tonight babe?” Natalie asked as she once more took to wiping her face from the still open cuts.
“No I couldn't do that to you, he told me to go home and when he finds that I’m not there… I left my car at the motel. '' Lauren knew on some level she had and knew there had been a reason, but now that the adrenaline was amping down and quickly she had no idea what she was going to do now.
“The motel?”
“Yeah, he met that girl..that one… Beth, that’s her name. They were up there and I had 3 people call me to tell me his truck was there. I just lost it and drove up there. I didn’t expect this to happen. I figured he’d be caught and apologetic.”
“That fucking bitch, I know her. She has no shame. Anyone gives her a little attention and she thinks they’re married. Tells everyone about it. She smells to high heaven too.” Natalie said incensed.
“Well I got up there and confronted him and he did this until I apologi-apolo-. “ Lauren felt sick suddenly and didn’t bother to finish. It hurt more to talk anyway.
“Why don’t you kick him out? It’s your house, the bills are in your name, you survived years without him before so it’s not like you need to worry about money. Serve him with eviction papers and go hide out somewhere until the month is up. Then bar him from the house.”
“I can’t afford a vacation and last time I tried to kick him out, it didn’t go well.I’ve got nothing in savings or otherwise. I can’t stay with anyone because he’ll come find me and hurt someone else in the process. My kids are already going to be pissed about this and if I disappear it's them he’ll hassle.I can’t afford the medical bills if I go in for this and I can’t afford the next beating if I don’t go home and get there before he does. Plus he knows exactly where I work.”
“You aren’t going to have a job if you're dead and he’s going to kill you.. At this point we’re just waiting for when. I can help you. I can loan you money, Fuck, I’ll just give you the god damn money. “
“We both know you don’t have any more than I do. “ Lauren said leaning back
“Well, you aren’t going home tonight, call your kids and warn them that he’ll be calling and to get a police car out there or something. I’ll call Lottie and explain that you are taking a few days off, and you most certainly are taking a few days off ma’am. You can’t go in looking like that, Lottie’ll kick you back out as soon as you show up. I know where you can go for now.”
Lauren went out back, wincing as she lit up a cigarette and took a few good drags before calling her oldest daughter and explaining that Daniel was going to be angry and to be on the lookout and if she could please call her siblings because she just did not have the energy tonight. Lauren promised to go to the hospital, figuring she’d end up going at some point and assured her daughter that she would be fine. After hanging up Todd got her attention at the edge of the yard and gestured toward the car. Lauren got up and limped over to it to climb in and wondering why the actual fuck she had worn flip flops tonight for this. .
It was a long drive out of town and into the mountains. Lauren apologized profusely every time she looked at the car clock. Todd waved his hand dismissively and handed her a fresh ice pack.
“We’re going to see my cousin, he lives up in the woods doing work for the park. He’s pretty far out there and doesn’t come into town much so Daniel won’t know about him. I’d turn your phone off as a precaution though. GPS trackers and whatnot.”
Lauren had already turned her phone off and felt herself dozing off. Unsure of how long she had slept she was awoken by the car stopping. Todd told her to wait where she was while he talked to his cousin. Lauren wondered what she was going to do if this guy didn’t let her stay here tonight. A few minutes later Todd was back and helping her hobble inside. The other man looked like he’d been woken up. He looked Lauren up and down and then waved Todd away. Todd slumped his shoulders and walked back to the car.
“I’m Eric, you’ll get my room. I’ve got some shirts on the bed to sleep in. The dog might insist on laying with you don’t mind dogs too much. I’ll be right out here on the couch if you need anything, bathroom is over here. I can get you a water and some more ibuprofen.” Eric seemed nice. Lauren worried that Daniel would find her out here with another man and finish what he started at the motel. The motel that seemed to be eons ago. Lauren felt her knees start to buckle and she swayed. Eric grabbed her and helped to the bed. Lauren rolled over and managed to get under the blankets before passing out.
Lauren came to hazily and found that the man here was in the room, he seemed taller as in a lot taller.
“I just want to touch you.” Eric slurred out. He swayed awkwardly and seemed to float to the bed, his hands grabbed at her. Lauren was frozen and then noticed to her horror that her husband was right behind him. Daniel came around to the other side of the bed smiling as if he’d known all along that she would be here. Lauren pulled her legs back and tried to scoot back into the headboard as the men got on the bed and started pulling her legs apart and shoving their palms into her collarbone to push her back. Lauren cried out screaming at them to stop as they started biting at her hips and inner thighs. Then they were laughing as they bit into her and pulled her skin off. Eric moved his mouth to her face and bit into her forehead and that set off fireworks of pain through her head.
Lauren awoke gasping and throwing her hands up defensively. Grey light filtered into the room through the blinds and Lauren was soaked in sweat. Her head most definitely did hurt. Badly. The memory of the men all over her made her sick and she jumped out of the bed and scrambled to the hallway towards where she thought the bathroom would be. She tried to grab at her hair to hold it out of the way only to come up short. It was cut. By the time she had finished throwing up and was leaning over the toilet trying to regain her breath, Eric had appeared wiping sleep out of his eyes. Lauren was slightly relieved to see him at his normal size although she shrunk from his touch when he reached out to steady her. He put his hands up to show that he was backing off.
“Hungry? I can make you something to eat to take some painkillers with so you don’t get so sick again. I’m going to run you into town when you think you’re ready. We can go to the ER if you’d like or maybe the prompt care? But you will have to go in. Looks like you broke your face.” Eric spoke slowly to her, keeping his hands where she could see them. Lauren just nodded at him dumbly. Which sent a new wave of agony through her body and she started to crumble. Eric reached carefully and steadied her with as little physical contact as possible. He led her to the couch and got her sat down, bringing her toast and ibuprofen with water.
Lauren tried to relax into the pain until the ibuprofen kicked in. She tried to disappear into herself, she counted by 13s. Finally after what seemed like forever, the painkillers kicked in taking a very large edge off of her pain. She let out a very audible moan as the pain abated ever so slightly. Her shoulders dropped.
“If we’re going into town and avoiding your husband maybe you should wear some different clothes? I’ve got some guy clothes that will fit you ok.” Eric said, handing her folded jeans and a shirt. Lauren just took them and went into the room to change. Mens jeans seemed to change her entire body shape and she did feel a little safer. Lauren had no idea what she was going to do when it came down to it. She was serious last night about not knowing how to leave him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, she had tried once before to end things, he called his son over to help him carry his stuff out and then when his son arrived he had held Lauren still while Daniel beat the shit out of her stomach and explained that he wasn’t leaving. Lauren needed her job, the house was paid off, she had gotten it in the divorce and had worked hard to pay it up over the years, but there were other bills and taxes and at some point Lauren wanted to retire long enough to enjoy it.
The car ride to town was nerve wracking. Lauren had used Eric’s phone to call ahead to the doctors office and let them know she would be there and that she would like to be brought back as soon as possible. Lauren waited until they were back in town to turn her phone back on. It powered up and looked fine until the phone started registering the texts and voicemails that had been coming in since last night. Once upon a time Daniel had reacted very negatively to her not responding to his message fast enough so Lauren had eventually set his ringer as an alarm so she knew right away to pick her phone up. Eric’s car sounded like a national disaster was going on. Lauren thought about throwing it out the window as her panic started to grow. Eric grabbed it from her and shoved it under his leg muffling the sound slightly.
“Sorry.” Lauren mumbled. Eric shrugged and didn’t look at her, instead keeping his eyes on the road. “I need to stop at the courthouse first to fill out paperwork for an order of protection and get it filed. Then the doctor's office. That way if he figures out where I am they’re already ready for me. “
Lauren checked her phone for any messages not from Daniel and responded to any that needed it and then she turned it back off as they pulled up to the courthouse. Eric handed her his ball cap to hide her face and they casually walked in together. The security guard stopped her and she lifted her hat and faced him head on. He winced and gave her the floor she needed.
“I still haven’t looked, how bad is it?” Lauren asked as they waited for the elevator.
“It’s pretty bad. But it’s your face and it’s probably mostly swelling. “ Eric said without looking at her.
Lauren knew the clerk and judging by the look on her face she ought to hurry to the doctor’s office.
The doctor’s office was it’s own sort of hell. First, the receptionist didn’t want to send her straight back before the nurse came out. Second, Lauren had been in town long enough that she was paranoid every time someone walked in, which she felt she wouldn’t be if they had sent her back like they had discussed. By the time Odette the nurse came out Lauren was wired and Eric had to calm her down just to get her to walk back to the room.
The doctor came in and looked at her and sighed.
“He really got you this time.” Dr. Livingston said, checking the chart.
“I need pictures to add to the rest, I’ve started the proceedings for an OOP and I’d like to bring in all the pictures.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll have Etta come in with the camera and give you copies to take with you so if they’re lost somehow you can get more from us. Then I’ll do an exam. Does he know where you are?”
“I’m not sure,Eric here has been driving me around and playing my bodyguard. I’d like to move as quickly as possible. I want to be out of town when he catches wind of the OOP.”
“I’ll have them let me know if he shows up.’
The pictures were as intrusive as ever. Etta smiled sympathetically as she helped Lauren tilt her head in different directions to catch every angle. After the pictures Dr. Livingston did a thorough exam and had an XRay done. Prescribed decent painkillers and did a few stitches on her forehead and somewhere in the back that Lauren hadn’t realized was cut up.
Daniel did show up so Eric and Lauren took off out the back and left, the office kept him busy and promised to give her a call as soon as he left. Eric dropped her off a block from her house to grab her things. Her truck was in the driveway. Lauren walked past it and into the house. Though she hadn’t checked the messages she had assumed that the house would be trashed from one of his fits but it wasn’t. She grabbed a few loose outfits and makeup. Glasses and medicine and a charger for a phone she was afraid to turn on. The office called to let her know he had left 2 minutes before. Her chest began to beat erratically. She couldn’t breathe.
“Notsafenotsafenotsafe.” She said to herself repeatedly to get her moving. She remembered to grab socks and real shoes, she even took extra time to get them on. The plan was to meet Eric 2 streets from the backyard in hopes of avoiding Daniel or someone that knew them and might tell Daniel who she had left with. Lauren locked the back door as she slipped out and was stopped by the next door woman who was entirely too nosey and judgemental. Grace had decided she didn’t like Lauren 20 some odd years ago when Grace had moved in. Daniel on the other hand, well she seemed to adore him. Daniel came over and mowed her yard for free and fixed her broken what the fuck ever was broken that day. Lauren knew for a fact that Grace fed Daniel information whether it was true or just some idea that Grace had gotten through her head.
“Well, what happened? Where are you headed then?” Grace asked quickly, trying to engage Lauren.
“Just a tumble and off to check something for The Jakobi's across the yard. See you later Grace.” Lauren kept walking trying to smile pleasantly.
“Oh wait, I need you to ask Danny to do something for me!” Grace hollered after Lauren, Lauren responded by running faster. Daniel’s truck roared around the corner so Lauren decided to take a different route that would involve going through the woods and meeting Eric somewhere else.
Adrenaline poured through Lauren and she put her all into it until she came out a mile up by the gas station. Lauren went inside and borrowed the landline there to call Eric to meet her at the trail head a little further on. She also bought an energy drink and chugged it before leaving. The rush made her eyes feel like they were going to pop out of her head and she laughed before running back into the woods. She imagined she must look like a mess with the backpack on and her short hair sticking everywhere with her eyes wild from the excess caffeine being chugged so quickly. Lauren kept herself going by imagining that she could hear his truck following her, that she could smell his cologne in the air behind her. Before she could stop herself she was hearing her footsteps and feeling the sensation of her head being pulled back and back into the bumper.
BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam. By the time she had exploded off the trail and into the poorly kept parking lot she had completely forgotten what she was doing.
Lauren dropped her hands on her knees and panted heavily. It was Todd who threw his hands around her waist and held her steady. Lauren surprised herself by screaming and slapping at him before Todd could get her to come out of her stupor. Sobbing, she fell into his chest and bawled. She started crying about the day and then it was the day before and then the year and then her entire marriage and then it was the time her youngest daughter came home from her dad’s early and accused her of always being drunk and looking at her disgustedly. Then it was the divorce and the time she let their older daughter wear lipstick and her ex husband had smacked her in front of them and announced that Lauren was not in fact, the deciding parent on the rules in the house.
It was a very long time before Lauren was done crying. Her face hurt dully in the area that had been so intimate with the bumper, snot covered her cheeks and mouth from the futile wiping it with her sleeves. Her good eye was now also swollen and she could barely see through it now. She fell to her knees and then collapsed the rest of the way to the ground so that getting up was difficult because of how stiff she was now from the odd position. Lauren hobbled with Todd holding her upright to his truck. He went ahead and lifted her up into the seat and helped her buckle. Lauren was too tired to swat his hand away and do it herself. She just relaxed her body back in the seat and let herself try to doze.
They hit the dirt road leading to Eric’s house which woke her up again. She could see more out of her good eye and finally flipped the visor down and braced herself for the reflection she had been avoiding.
Half of her face was a mix of purple and blue, someone had said something about her cheekbone on the right being fractured a little, hey right eyebrow was not only swollen but split in the corner and a small stitch held it. Her right eye was a mix of colors and swollen shut, bruises ran down her jawline and she could see why Dr. Livingston had recommended admitting her to the hospital, Lauren herself might’ve considered it if she hadn't been terrified it would’ve made it easier for Daniel to find her and kill her. Lauren fingered her hair that was cut close to her head and tried to smooth some of the longer strands that had indeed started to poke out at different directions. The left side of her face red and blotchy from crying and it occurred to Lauren that she looked like a very fat bloated version of herself and for some reason it struck her as hysterical and she began to laugh until her stomach hurt and she was doubled over howling with laughter. Todd glanced at her and then the road, flipping back and forth between the road and Lauren. Lauren who had gone from a deep sadness to a manic laughter within a short period of time.
By the time they pulled up to Eric’s, Lauren was still laughing but had calmed a little. Todd patted her thigh and told her to stay put. To go warn Eric she presumed. When he came back he carried her from the car to the bed and Eric stood waiting with pills and water and more toast. Lauren did some concentrated breathing until she could swallow them without choking. The pills seemed to kick in immediately. Her face numbed much more than the ibuprofen had managed earlier. As her mind started to fade in and out Eric told her he had purchased her a new phone and had put her old numbers into her new phone in town and tossed the old phone.
A week later Lauren returned from town at the hearing where Daniel was served with a permanent Order Of Protection good for a year. While her face was still pretty fucked up, she was able to see out of both eyes now. The judge had seen her face and granted the order. Daniel had been arrested and would be held for awhile but she had stayed with Eric for a few more days so he could keep an eye on her mental state. Lauren was having trouble returning to her home, she had been placed on a sort of leave at work, Lauren was unsure if they could legally do that after a domestic assault but she wasn’t in the mindset to argue so she just gave up.
“You think you’re safe to go home tomorrow? “ Eric asked Lauren as they set up a fire outside.
“I think so. I don’t know if I really want to stay there anymore.” Lauren admitted. She stacked some more wood off to the side so they wouldn’t have to get back up as often.
“I have a friend who owns some cabins in the woods, he rents them out. There’s 12 or so I think, anyway he recently lost his caretaker and has been looking for someone who can stay up there year round and clean the cabins and handle the rentals. It pays well, obviously you have your own cabin to live in.” Eric passed her a joint that Lauren accepted.
“I’ll think about it.” Lauren said before breathing in and relaxing back into her camping chair and drifting away.
Lauren finished setting the table with her son, Greyson. Her daughters Cora and Audrey, were supposed to be here soon. Liam, Greyson’s 5 month old wailed from the living room and Lauren waved at Greyson to let her go tend to him. Lauren picked up the wailing baby and put her nose on top of his head, remembering the newborn smell. Her youngest was Audrey and she was 23. Liam settled as soon as he was picked up. Lauren thought of how much she was going to miss her grandkids. She lifted him up so she could blow on his baby tummy and he squealed with delight.
“I think the girls are pulling in now.” Greyson said coming in with a bottle. Liam caught sight of Daddy and his bottle and flailed toward them. Lauren handed her grandson to her own son and kissed his forehead.
“I am so proud of you. I don’t think I know any single dads who have their kids full time.” Lauren brushed Greysons hair from his forehead and smiled.
The girls came in, Audrey carrying Cora’s 3 year old son and then Cora behind her dragging an 8 year old girl whose eyes were locked on a tablet screen.
“Diana Renee, turn it off for a few minutes and walk. Jesus. You’re going to trip, say hi to grandma.” Cora said in a surly tone looking exhausted. Her face looked rounder and Lauren had a feeling Cora was pregnant again. She had the look and Lauren felt a pang that she wasn’t going to be around this time, and that she had already missed quite a bit of time. It hadn’t taken any of the kids long to catch onto Daniel being controlling and possessive and even though Lauren had argued for her kids being over every Sunday the children on their own had slowly found excuses to quit coming around the house.Not that Audrey had needed much push. For whatever reason Audrey and Lauren had never seen eye to eye. Lauren blamed her father but it was more than that too, a drive to be independent. Diana and Clayton hugged Lauren fiercely and she sat on the floor with them crawling on her while they told her anything interesting they could think of. The bruises on Lauren’s face had faded quite a bit but the kids kept looking at them without saying anything, biting their lips. Lauren assumed Cora had instructed them not to ask. Lauren had purposely waited to bring her kids over to make her announcement until her face looked better and wouldn’t scare anyone. After a while the kids ran out into the backyard to play.
“So is he really gone?” Audrey asked as the sliding door closed. Lauren sighed pretending not to notice the tone in her voice.
“Yes. He was arrested. The pictures I had taken at the doctor’s office helped. I know you guys weren’t impressed he was here as long as he was but I was working on it. “ That of course was a lie. She had snuck off to the doctors after he had beaten her and had it documented so that they would have a suspect if he killed her but the kids didn’t need to know that. At least this way they seemed to retain a little respect for their flakey mom who brought the evil villain into their lives.
“I’m just glad you’re safe mom. We were worried. Especially after you called me that night.” Cora said rocking Liam who was starting to doze off after his bottle.
“That’s why I called you guys over actually. After that happened I did some thinking. It’s just me in this big house and after everything that happened I decided to sell the house and move. I took a job the next state over up in the mountains. I’m a caretaker for cabins that get rented out to hunters and families, I’ll be living there.” Lauren smiled and started passing a brochure for the company and the area to each of her children.
“What the fuck mom? You can’t move, or at the very least you can’t sell the house. We grew up here.” Audrey said loudly, tears forming already. Lauren remembered the time her friends had all gone out for a girls weekend and Greyson had spiked a fever and Lauren had to stay home to take care of him, how suffocating it had felt to be their mother and have no life of her own. But the kids were in their twenties now, not little. They didn’t need her the same way.
“Eventually Daniel will be released and I would like to be gone when he is. I would like to live somewhere that I can make new, happier memories. You guys don’t need me as much and I’m only an hour away. I can still take grand kids when you need me and I’m not so far that I can’t come over for lunch. Plus I can offer you guys a pretty good discount in the off season. Imagine Christmas in the mountains and everyone has their own cabin to stay in instead of arguing over a bedroom.” Lauren said, hoping no one would note that it had been a very long time since anyone had spent the night here and they’d never really fought over space.
“I think it’s a good idea mom. We’ll miss the house but you’re right.” Cora said glaring at her sister. “You deserve to move forward.”
“I can help you move up there. Are you taking your furniture or is the furniture provided already? Is it safe up there? Who will come check on you? I don’t want something to happen to you and you’re stranded out there for days with no help. “ Greyson asked, looking concerned.
“I’m not sure, we can set up a system so you know I’m ok.” Lauren said pleased with her son’s concern. “As far as furniture, you guys can pick anything you want, I’m selling the rest. I’ll keep some of the dishes and my baking stuff. Plus the photograph albums, I’ll get rid of everything else.”
“Does Dad know?” Autumn asked accusingly.
“I haven’t told him, it’s really not any of his business. Nothing in this house belongs to him and his name hasn’t been on the house in at least 15 years.”
“This is our house too.” Audrey argued
“No it really isn’t anymore. You haven’t lived here in at least 5 years.”
“Audrey, chill, it’s not that big of a deal.” Cora warned. Lauren began to feel she was missing something.
“Well, you could rent it out to someone instead of getting rid of it. You could always use the extra income.” Audrey argued, looking around at everyone.
“I’d make a lot more money selling the house than I would renting it out. If there were a repair to be made I don’t want to be responsible. I’m too old to deal with all of that.” Lauren waved her hand around the house gesturing at the idea of all the work there would need to be done. “Besides someone has already made an offer, I’m fairly certain I’m going to accept it.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Yes, she can. Knock it off. She doesn’t want to live here all alone.” Greyson retorted.
The 3 of them argued together at each other and Lauren sank back into her recliner helplessly. A thought occurred to her.
“Audrey are you angry you’re losing a piece of your childhood or a piece of your inheritance?” Lauren asked icily. Audrey’s face turned red and Cora looked at the window desperate not to make eye contact. Greyson grabbed Liam and started fussing over him.”Ah. I see, and you all 3 have discussed it.”
“No, not exactly like that. Dad had a scare 2 years ago and he was faced with being put in a home for awhile. We didn’t know how he was going to pay for it, we talked about selling his house and that was sort of how it came up, renting instead of selling I mean.” Greyson muttered.
“Not to keep it until he died so the money or the house went to us, but to protect him. We naturally discussed you as well and different scenarios. Then when we started to really worry Daniel was going to kill you, we were worried about him taking possession of the house and everything in it.” Cora explained a little more. “Obviously all THREE of us want you to do what makes you feel the happiest and safest.”
Audrey stared at the wall.
“I have a lot of happy memories here of all 3 of you. I brought you all home from the hospital through that door. I nursed you all back to health when you were sick and sang you lullabies in this room. I listened to you talk about your days in the kitchen, and when your dad moved out we all sat in my room with the big TV and watched movies all day because he wasn’t here to tell us it was wrong. I potty trained you all in the bathrooms here. I taught you to walk and speak here.” Lauren wiped at her eyes remembering them running through. “But over there in that corner was where your dad smacked me because I told Cora she could wear lipstick. And I was standing on the stairs when he came out of the bedroom with his suitcase in hand, telling me he was leaving. It was in the kitchen where I got the call that my mother died. That was the door frame Daniel's son leaned against as he held me up while Daniel pummeled my midsection until I decided that I didn’t want him to move out after all. I just want to start over. I’m allowed to do that. I gave my entire life to raise you guys and no one worked harder than me to keep us afloat. My time is now and I’m taking it. “
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Laurens' stomach seemed to flip and jolt with every bump of the road heading to the motel outside of town just past the main supermarket. Tears ran down her face. The car seemed to fishtail a little as she pulled in. There were several problems with her marriage. Namely that he had a tendency to hit her and accuse her of cheating on him, the most current problem was that he was cheating on her in a motel where everyone they knew could see. Lauren wasn’t thinking clearly as she banged on the door, she knew right away which one it would be, she could hear his voice coming out from it.
“OPEN UP!” She screamed as she pounded on the door. Lauren could feel the general sensation of her hand resisting the door. It would more than likely hurt at some point when she came off the adrenaline.
Then, the door did open. Daniel Anderson took up most of the frame and he was angry. Lauren could hear the other girl screaming inside but couldn’t seem to make out what she was saying. Her heart stopped as she looked into Daniels face. He was Angry. The kind of angry that meant he was going to hurt her, whether anyone could see it or not. Lauren backed up from the door to avoid being pulled in the room but Daniel followed her out.
“What are you doing here?” Daniel asked, his voice was even and low.
“I got 3 calls about you being here with some whore.” Lauren retorted. She had started edging towards her car at this point, seemingly just now realizing she had made a mistake in coming here. Her heart seemed to stop altogether as he reached for her.
Lauren ducked but he caught her by her hair, winding the strands in between his fingers and yanking her face so that her ear was next to her mouth.
“What did you call her?” He whispered through clenched teeth. Lauren remained mute at this point. She felt her heart speed up and she tried to figure out how to get out of this. He’d never hit her in public. If she could remind him where they were… “I asked you a question Bitch.
If Lauren had thought about answering at that point, she wasn’t given much of a chance. He swung her head up and then forward, the momentum knocking her to the ground. Then he kicked her, pain blossomed through her midsection stunning her and she had trouble catching her breath. His hands came back down and he began throwing her face into the bumper of his bright red truck. After a minute he threw her face in a different direction and she could taste gravel.
“Apologize.” Daniel said in a warning voice. Lauren tried to stand but he mimicked grabbing at her and she shrunk back. “Apologize to her for calling her a whore.”
Lauren said nothing, somewhat in shock and mostly in pain. She could taste blood and felt it running down her face. This time he did grab her by the arm and yanked her up in one movement.
“I Said. Apologize. “ his words were clear.
Lauren did. Stuttering out an I’m sorry in the other woman’s direction.
“You best be home when I get back.” With that Daniel turned around and went back in the room.
Lauren assessed her options but she couldn’t seem to think. She reached into her car and pulled out her purse and started walking. She couldn’t see out of one eye hardly at all and her head hurt in the back. Lauren knew that he had pulled out a significant amount of hair. She thought she recalled some sharp pain as her face was pulled back from the bumper but she couldn’t remember what had happened in any sort of order.
It was at least 2 miles to her friend’s house. Lauren knocked on the door and when Natalie opened the door Lauren pushed her way in. Natalie hissed as she looked at Lauren.
“What the fuck happened?” Natalie gingerly touched her eye, or at least Laurent thought it was the area heer eye should be in. She hadn’t realized how numb she’d been getting here until she wasn’t numb anymore and the throbbing started up. Todd, Natalie’s husband came from the bedrooms and audibly gasped as well. Lauren headed for the hair salon in the back as Natalie whispered to Todd.
Natalie found Lauren in the salon, lights on and sitting in the chair.
“I’ve got enough here for a haircut but I’ll have to get back to you on the last minute/middle of the night fee. I need it all chopped off if you would. I know he ripped a bit in the back so it’s uneven anyway. Honestly it’s irresponsible to keep my hair this long anyway,do people still do that Kate plus Eight hair? The may I speak to your manager hair?” Lauren had trouble forming the words but she kept going hoping that Natalie understood her. She purposefully faced away from the mirror.
“I can cut your hair for sure. Wouldn’t you rather go to a hospital?” Natalie asked carefully playing with Lauren’s hair. Lauren shookher head quickly and immediately regretted it. Todd came in the room with an ice pack and a washcloth. Natalie filled up a bowl of water and started carefully patting away dried blood and finding the actual cuts. There was water and ibuprofen with a few tylenol mixed in, Lauren had trouble with it.
Natalie cut her hair silently. Working around one spot and then going back to it before announcing that it was as good as it was going to get there until the massive cut healed.
“You want to stay here tonight babe?” Natalie asked as she once more took to wiping her face from the still open cuts.
“No I couldn't do that to you, he told me to go home and when he finds that I’m not there… I left my car at the motel. '' Lauren knew on some level she had and knew there had been a reason, but now that the adrenaline was amping down and quickly she had no idea what she was going to do now.
“The motel?”
“Yeah, he met that girl..that one… Beth, that’s her name. They were up there and I had 3 people call me to tell me his truck was there. I just lost it and drove up there. I didn’t expect this to happen. I figured he’d be caught and apologetic.”
“That fucking bitch, I know her. She has no shame. Anyone gives her a little attention and she thinks they’re married. Tells everyone about it. She smells to high heaven too.” Natalie said incensed.
“Well I got up there and confronted him and he did this until I apologi-apolo-. “ Lauren felt sick suddenly and didn’t bother to finish. It hurt more to talk anyway.
“Why don’t you kick him out? It’s your house, the bills are in your name, you survived years without him before so it’s not like you need to worry about money. Serve him with eviction papers and go hide out somewhere until the month is up. Then bar him from the house.”
“I can’t afford a vacation and last time I tried to kick him out, it didn’t go well.I’ve got nothing in savings or otherwise. I can’t stay with anyone because he’ll come find me and hurt someone else in the process. My kids are already going to be pissed about this and if I disappear it's them he’ll hassle.I can’t afford the medical bills if I go in for this and I can’t afford the next beating if I don’t go home and get there before he does. Plus he knows exactly where I work.”
“You aren’t going to have a job if you're dead and he’s going to kill you.. At this point we’re just waiting for when. I can help you. I can loan you money, Fuck, I’ll just give you the god damn money. “
“We both know you don’t have any more than I do. “ Lauren said leaning back
“Well, you aren’t going home tonight, call your kids and warn them that he’ll be calling and to get a police car out there or something. I’ll call Lottie and explain that you are taking a few days off, and you most certainly are taking a few days off ma’am. You can’t go in looking like that, Lottie’ll kick you back out as soon as you show up. I know where you can go for now.”
Lauren went out back, wincing as she lit up a cigarette and took a few good drags before calling her oldest daughter and explaining that Daniel was going to be angry and to be on the lookout and if she could please call her siblings because she just did not have the energy tonight. Lauren promised to go to the hospital, figuring she’d end up going at some point and assured her daughter that she would be fine. After hanging up Todd got her attention at the edge of the yard and gestured toward the car. Lauren got up and limped over to it to climb in and wondering why the actual fuck she had worn flip flops tonight for this. .
It was a long drive out of town and into the mountains. Lauren apologized profusely every time she looked at the car clock. Todd waved his hand dismissively and handed her a fresh ice pack.
“We’re going to see my cousin, he lives up in the woods doing work for the park. He’s pretty far out there and doesn’t come into town much so Daniel won’t know about him. I’d turn your phone off as a precaution though. GPS trackers and whatnot.”
Lauren had already turned her phone off and felt herself dozing off. Unsure of how long she had slept she was awoken by the car stopping. Todd told her to wait where she was while he talked to his cousin. Lauren wondered what she was going to do if this guy didn’t let her stay here tonight. A few minutes later Todd was back and helping her hobble inside. The other man looked like he’d been woken up. He looked Lauren up and down and then waved Todd away. Todd slumped his shoulders and walked back to the car.
“I’m Eric, you’ll get my room. I’ve got some shirts on the bed to sleep in. The dog might insist on laying with you don’t mind dogs too much. I’ll be right out here on the couch if you need anything, bathroom is over here. I can get you a water and some more ibuprofen.” Eric seemed nice. Lauren worried that Daniel would find her out here with another man and finish what he started at the motel. The motel that seemed to be eons ago. Lauren felt her knees start to buckle and she swayed. Eric grabbed her and helped to the bed. Lauren rolled over and managed to get under the blankets before passing out.
Lauren came to hazily and found that the man here was in the room, he seemed taller as in a lot taller.
“I just want to touch you.” Eric slurred out. He swayed awkwardly and seemed to float to the bed, his hands grabbed at her. Lauren was frozen and then noticed to her horror that her husband was right behind him. Daniel came around to the other side of the bed smiling as if he’d known all along that she would be here. Lauren pulled her legs back and tried to scoot back into the headboard as the men got on the bed and started pulling her legs apart and shoving their palms into her collarbone to push her back. Lauren cried out screaming at them to stop as they started biting at her hips and inner thighs. Then they were laughing as they bit into her and pulled her skin off. Eric moved his mouth to her face and bit into her forehead and that set off fireworks of pain through her head.
Lauren awoke gasping and throwing her hands up defensively. Grey light filtered into the room through the blinds and Lauren was soaked in sweat. Her head most definitely did hurt. Badly. The memory of the men all over her made her sick and she jumped out of the bed and scrambled to the hallway towards where she thought the bathroom would be. She tried to grab at her hair to hold it out of the way only to come up short. It was cut. By the time she had finished throwing up and was leaning over the toilet trying to regain her breath, Eric had appeared wiping sleep out of his eyes. Lauren was slightly relieved to see him at his normal size although she shrunk from his touch when he reached out to steady her. He put his hands up to show that he was backing off.
“Hungry? I can make you something to eat to take some painkillers with so you don’t get so sick again. I’m going to run you into town when you think you’re ready. We can go to the ER if you’d like or maybe the prompt care? But you will have to go in. Looks like you broke your face.” Eric spoke slowly to her, keeping his hands where she could see them. Lauren just nodded at him dumbly. Which sent a new wave of agony through her body and she started to crumble. Eric reached carefully and steadied her with as little physical contact as possible. He led her to the couch and got her sat down, bringing her toast and ibuprofen with water.
Lauren tried to relax into the pain until the ibuprofen kicked in. She tried to disappear into herself, she counted by 13s. Finally after what seemed like forever, the painkillers kicked in taking a very large edge off of her pain. She let out a very audible moan as the pain abated ever so slightly. Her shoulders dropped.
“If we’re going into town and avoiding your husband maybe you should wear some different clothes? I’ve got some guy clothes that will fit you ok.” Eric said, handing her folded jeans and a shirt. Lauren just took them and went into the room to change. Mens jeans seemed to change her entire body shape and she did feel a little safer. Lauren had no idea what she was going to do when it came down to it. She was serious last night about not knowing how to leave him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, she had tried once before to end things, he called his son over to help him carry his stuff out and then when his son arrived he had held Lauren still while Daniel beat the shit out of her stomach and explained that he wasn’t leaving. Lauren needed her job, the house was paid off, she had gotten it in the divorce and had worked hard to pay it up over the years, but there were other bills and taxes and at some point Lauren wanted to retire long enough to enjoy it.
The car ride to town was nerve wracking. Lauren had used Eric’s phone to call ahead to the doctors office and let them know she would be there and that she would like to be brought back as soon as possible. Lauren waited until they were back in town to turn her phone back on. It powered up and looked fine until the phone started registering the texts and voicemails that had been coming in since last night. Once upon a time Daniel had reacted very negatively to her not responding to his message fast enough so Lauren had eventually set his ringer as an alarm so she knew right away to pick her phone up. Eric’s car sounded like a national disaster was going on. Lauren thought about throwing it out the window as her panic started to grow. Eric grabbed it from her and shoved it under his leg muffling the sound slightly.
“Sorry.” Lauren mumbled. Eric shrugged and didn’t look at her, instead keeping his eyes on the road. “I need to stop at the courthouse first to fill out paperwork for an order of protection and get it filed. Then the doctor's office. That way if he figures out where I am they’re already ready for me. “
Lauren checked her phone for any messages not from Daniel and responded to any that needed it and then she turned it back off as they pulled up to the courthouse. Eric handed her his ball cap to hide her face and they casually walked in together. The security guard stopped her and she lifted her hat and faced him head on. He winced and gave her the floor she needed.
“I still haven’t looked, how bad is it?” Lauren asked as they waited for the elevator.
“It’s pretty bad. But it’s your face and it’s probably mostly swelling. “ Eric said without looking at her.
Lauren knew the clerk and judging by the look on her face she ought to hurry to the doctor’s office.
The doctor’s office was it’s own sort of hell. First, the receptionist didn’t want to send her straight back before the nurse came out. Second, Lauren had been in town long enough that she was paranoid every time someone walked in, which she felt she wouldn’t be if they had sent her back like they had discussed. By the time Odette the nurse came out Lauren was wired and Eric had to calm her down just to get her to walk back to the room.
The doctor came in and looked at her and sighed.
“He really got you this time.” Dr. Livingston said, checking the chart.
“I need pictures to add to the rest, I’ve started the proceedings for an OOP and I’d like to bring in all the pictures.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll have Etta come in with the camera and give you copies to take with you so if they’re lost somehow you can get more from us. Then I’ll do an exam. Does he know where you are?”
“I’m not sure,Eric here has been driving me around and playing my bodyguard. I’d like to move as quickly as possible. I want to be out of town when he catches wind of the OOP.”
“I’ll have them let me know if he shows up.’
The pictures were as intrusive as ever. Etta smiled sympathetically as she helped Lauren tilt her head in different directions to catch every angle. After the pictures Dr. Livingston did a thorough exam and had an XRay done. Prescribed decent painkillers and did a few stitches on her forehead and somewhere in the back that Lauren hadn’t realized was cut up.
Daniel did show up so Eric and Lauren took off out the back and left, the office kept him busy and promised to give her a call as soon as he left. Eric dropped her off a block from her house to grab her things. Her truck was in the driveway. Lauren walked past it and into the house. Though she hadn’t checked the messages she had assumed that the house would be trashed from one of his fits but it wasn’t. She grabbed a few loose outfits and makeup. Glasses and medicine and a charger for a phone she was afraid to turn on. The office called to let her know he had left 2 minutes before. Her chest began to beat erratically. She couldn’t breathe.
“Notsafenotsafenotsafe.” She said to herself repeatedly to get her moving. She remembered to grab socks and real shoes, she even took extra time to get them on. The plan was to meet Eric 2 streets from the backyard in hopes of avoiding Daniel or someone that knew them and might tell Daniel who she had left with. Lauren locked the back door as she slipped out and was stopped by the next door woman who was entirely too nosey and judgemental. Grace had decided she didn’t like Lauren 20 some odd years ago when Grace had moved in. Daniel on the other hand, well she seemed to adore him. Daniel came over and mowed her yard for free and fixed her broken what the fuck ever was broken that day. Lauren knew for a fact that Grace fed Daniel information whether it was true or just some idea that Grace had gotten through her head.
“Well, what happened? Where are you headed then?” Grace asked quickly, trying to engage Lauren.
“Just a tumble and off to check something for The Jakobi's across the yard. See you later Grace.” Lauren kept walking trying to smile pleasantly.
“Oh wait, I need you to ask Danny to do something for me!” Grace hollered after Lauren, Lauren responded by running faster. Daniel’s truck roared around the corner so Lauren decided to take a different route that would involve going through the woods and meeting Eric somewhere else.
Adrenaline poured through Lauren and she put her all into it until she came out a mile up by the gas station. Lauren went inside and borrowed the landline there to call Eric to meet her at the trail head a little further on. She also bought an energy drink and chugged it before leaving. The rush made her eyes feel like they were going to pop out of her head and she laughed before running back into the woods. She imagined she must look like a mess with the backpack on and her short hair sticking everywhere with her eyes wild from the excess caffeine being chugged so quickly. Lauren kept herself going by imagining that she could hear his truck following her, that she could smell his cologne in the air behind her. Before she could stop herself she was hearing her footsteps and feeling the sensation of her head being pulled back and back into the bumper.
BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam. By the time she had exploded off the trail and into the poorly kept parking lot she had completely forgotten what she was doing.
Lauren dropped her hands on her knees and panted heavily. It was Todd who threw his hands around her waist and held her steady. Lauren surprised herself by screaming and slapping at him before Todd could get her to come out of her stupor. Sobbing, she fell into his chest and bawled. She started crying about the day and then it was the day before and then the year and then her entire marriage and then it was the time her youngest daughter came home from her dad’s early and accused her of always being drunk and looking at her disgustedly. Then it was the divorce and the time she let their older daughter wear lipstick and her ex husband had smacked her in front of them and announced that Lauren was not in fact, the deciding parent on the rules in the house.
It was a very long time before Lauren was done crying. Her face hurt dully in the area that had been so intimate with the bumper, snot covered her cheeks and mouth from the futile wiping it with her sleeves. Her good eye was now also swollen and she could barely see through it now. She fell to her knees and then collapsed the rest of the way to the ground so that getting up was difficult because of how stiff she was now from the odd position. Lauren hobbled with Todd holding her upright to his truck. He went ahead and lifted her up into the seat and helped her buckle. Lauren was too tired to swat his hand away and do it herself. She just relaxed her body back in the seat and let herself try to doze.
They hit the dirt road leading to Eric’s house which woke her up again. She could see more out of her good eye and finally flipped the visor down and braced herself for the reflection she had been avoiding.
Half of her face was a mix of purple and blue, someone had said something about her cheekbone on the right being fractured a little, hey right eyebrow was not only swollen but split in the corner and a small stitch held it. Her right eye was a mix of colors and swollen shut, bruises ran down her jawline and she could see why Dr. Livingston had recommended admitting her to the hospital, Lauren herself might’ve considered it if she hadn't been terrified it would’ve made it easier for Daniel to find her and kill her. Lauren fingered her hair that was cut close to her head and tried to smooth some of the longer strands that had indeed started to poke out at different directions. The left side of her face red and blotchy from crying and it occurred to Lauren that she looked like a very fat bloated version of herself and for some reason it struck her as hysterical and she began to laugh until her stomach hurt and she was doubled over howling with laughter. Todd glanced at her and then the road, flipping back and forth between the road and Lauren. Lauren who had gone from a deep sadness to a manic laughter within a short period of time.
By the time they pulled up to Eric’s, Lauren was still laughing but had calmed a little. Todd patted her thigh and told her to stay put. To go warn Eric she presumed. When he came back he carried her from the car to the bed and Eric stood waiting with pills and water and more toast. Lauren did some concentrated breathing until she could swallow them without choking. The pills seemed to kick in immediately. Her face numbed much more than the ibuprofen had managed earlier. As her mind started to fade in and out Eric told her he had purchased her a new phone and had put her old numbers into her new phone in town and tossed the old phone.
A week later Lauren returned from town at the hearing where Daniel was served with a permanent Order Of Protection good for a year. While her face was still pretty fucked up, she was able to see out of both eyes now. The judge had seen her face and granted the order. Daniel had been arrested and would be held for awhile but she had stayed with Eric for a few more days so he could keep an eye on her mental state. Lauren was having trouble returning to her home, she had been placed on a sort of leave at work, Lauren was unsure if they could legally do that after a domestic assault but she wasn’t in the mindset to argue so she just gave up.
“You think you’re safe to go home tomorrow? “ Eric asked Lauren as they set up a fire outside.
“I think so. I don’t know if I really want to stay there anymore.” Lauren admitted. She stacked some more wood off to the side so they wouldn’t have to get back up as often.
“I have a friend who owns some cabins in the woods, he rents them out. There’s 12 or so I think, anyway he recently lost his caretaker and has been looking for someone who can stay up there year round and clean the cabins and handle the rentals. It pays well, obviously you have your own cabin to live in.” Eric passed her a joint that Lauren accepted.
“I’ll think about it.” Lauren said before breathing in and relaxing back into her camping chair and drifting away.
Lauren finished setting the table with her son, Greyson. Her daughters Cora and Audrey, were supposed to be here soon. Liam, Greyson’s 5 month old wailed from the living room and Lauren waved at Greyson to let her go tend to him. Lauren picked up the wailing baby and put her nose on top of his head, remembering the newborn smell. Her youngest was Audrey and she was 23. Liam settled as soon as he was picked up. Lauren thought of how much she was going to miss her grandkids. She lifted him up so she could blow on his baby tummy and he squealed with delight.
“I think the girls are pulling in now.” Greyson said coming in with a bottle. Liam caught sight of Daddy and his bottle and flailed toward them. Lauren handed her grandson to her own son and kissed his forehead.
“I am so proud of you. I don’t think I know any single dads who have their kids full time.” Lauren brushed Greysons hair from his forehead and smiled.
The girls came in, Audrey carrying Cora’s 3 year old son and then Cora behind her dragging an 8 year old girl whose eyes were locked on a tablet screen.
“Diana Renee, turn it off for a few minutes and walk. Jesus. You’re going to trip, say hi to grandma.” Cora said in a surly tone looking exhausted. Her face looked rounder and Lauren had a feeling Cora was pregnant again. She had the look and Lauren felt a pang that she wasn’t going to be around this time, and that she had already missed quite a bit of time. It hadn’t taken any of the kids long to catch onto Daniel being controlling and possessive and even though Lauren had argued for her kids being over every Sunday the children on their own had slowly found excuses to quit coming around the house.Not that Audrey had needed much push. For whatever reason Audrey and Lauren had never seen eye to eye. Lauren blamed her father but it was more than that too, a drive to be independent. Diana and Clayton hugged Lauren fiercely and she sat on the floor with them crawling on her while they told her anything interesting they could think of. The bruises on Lauren’s face had faded quite a bit but the kids kept looking at them without saying anything, biting their lips. Lauren assumed Cora had instructed them not to ask. Lauren had purposely waited to bring her kids over to make her announcement until her face looked better and wouldn’t scare anyone. After a while the kids ran out into the backyard to play.
“So is he really gone?” Audrey asked as the sliding door closed. Lauren sighed pretending not to notice the tone in her voice.
“Yes. He was arrested. The pictures I had taken at the doctor’s office helped. I know you guys weren’t impressed he was here as long as he was but I was working on it. “ That of course was a lie. She had snuck off to the doctors after he had beaten her and had it documented so that they would have a suspect if he killed her but the kids didn’t need to know that. At least this way they seemed to retain a little respect for their flakey mom who brought the evil villain into their lives.
“I’m just glad you’re safe mom. We were worried. Especially after you called me that night.” Cora said rocking Liam who was starting to doze off after his bottle.
“That’s why I called you guys over actually. After that happened I did some thinking. It’s just me in this big house and after everything that happened I decided to sell the house and move. I took a job the next state over up in the mountains. I’m a caretaker for cabins that get rented out to hunters and families, I’ll be living there.” Lauren smiled and started passing a brochure for the company and the area to each of her children.
“What the fuck mom? You can’t move, or at the very least you can’t sell the house. We grew up here.” Audrey said loudly, tears forming already. Lauren remembered the time her friends had all gone out for a girls weekend and Greyson had spiked a fever and Lauren had to stay home to take care of him, how suffocating it had felt to be their mother and have no life of her own. But the kids were in their twenties now, not little. They didn’t need her the same way.
“Eventually Daniel will be released and I would like to be gone when he is. I would like to live somewhere that I can make new, happier memories. You guys don’t need me as much and I’m only an hour away. I can still take grand kids when you need me and I’m not so far that I can’t come over for lunch. Plus I can offer you guys a pretty good discount in the off season. Imagine Christmas in the mountains and everyone has their own cabin to stay in instead of arguing over a bedroom.” Lauren said, hoping no one would note that it had been a very long time since anyone had spent the night here and they’d never really fought over space.
“I think it’s a good idea mom. We’ll miss the house but you’re right.” Cora said glaring at her sister. “You deserve to move forward.”
“I can help you move up there. Are you taking your furniture or is the furniture provided already? Is it safe up there? Who will come check on you? I don’t want something to happen to you and you’re stranded out there for days with no help. “ Greyson asked, looking concerned.
“I’m not sure, we can set up a system so you know I’m ok.” Lauren said pleased with her son’s concern. “As far as furniture, you guys can pick anything you want, I’m selling the rest. I’ll keep some of the dishes and my baking stuff. Plus the photograph albums, I’ll get rid of everything else.”
“Does Dad know?” Autumn asked accusingly.
“I haven’t told him, it’s really not any of his business. Nothing in this house belongs to him and his name hasn’t been on the house in at least 15 years.”
“This is our house too.” Audrey argued
“No it really isn’t anymore. You haven’t lived here in at least 5 years.”
“Audrey, chill, it’s not that big of a deal.” Cora warned. Lauren began to feel she was missing something.
“Well, you could rent it out to someone instead of getting rid of it. You could always use the extra income.” Audrey argued, looking around at everyone.
“I’d make a lot more money selling the house than I would renting it out. If there were a repair to be made I don’t want to be responsible. I’m too old to deal with all of that.” Lauren waved her hand around the house gesturing at the idea of all the work there would need to be done. “Besides someone has already made an offer, I’m fairly certain I’m going to accept it.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Yes, she can. Knock it off. She doesn’t want to live here all alone.” Greyson retorted.
The 3 of them argued together at each other and Lauren sank back into her recliner helplessly. A thought occurred to her.
“Audrey are you angry you’re losing a piece of your childhood or a piece of your inheritance?” Lauren asked icily. Audrey’s face turned red and Cora looked at the window desperate not to make eye contact. Greyson grabbed Liam and started fussing over him.”Ah. I see, and you all 3 have discussed it.”
“No, not exactly like that. Dad had a scare 2 years ago and he was faced with being put in a home for awhile. We didn’t know how he was going to pay for it, we talked about selling his house and that was sort of how it came up, renting instead of selling I mean.” Greyson muttered.
“Not to keep it until he died so the money or the house went to us, but to protect him. We naturally discussed you as well and different scenarios. Then when we started to really worry Daniel was going to kill you, we were worried about him taking possession of the house and everything in it.” Cora explained a little more. “Obviously all THREE of us want you to do what makes you feel the happiest and safest.”
Audrey stared at the wall.
“I have a lot of happy memories here of all 3 of you. I brought you all home from the hospital through that door. I nursed you all back to health when you were sick and sang you lullabies in this room. I listened to you talk about your days in the kitchen, and when your dad moved out we all sat in my room with the big TV and watched movies all day because he wasn’t here to tell us it was wrong. I potty trained you all in the bathrooms here. I taught you to walk and speak here.” Lauren wiped at her eyes remembering them running through. “But over there in that corner was where your dad smacked me because I told Cora she could wear lipstick. And I was standing on the stairs when he came out of the bedroom with his suitcase in hand, telling me he was leaving. It was in the kitchen where I got the call that my mother died. That was the door frame Daniel's son leaned against as he held me up while Daniel pummeled my midsection until I decided that I didn’t want him to move out after all. I just want to start over. I’m allowed to do that. I gave my entire life to raise you guys and no one worked harder than me to keep us afloat. My time is now and I’m taking it. “
2024.05.07 04:10 holdmyownhand I'm going to use alot of "I" statements.
I'm going to use alot of "I" statements.
I feel that life is very unfair, and it makes me annoyed at myself to feel that way because there are people going through far worse in the world but here I am.
Where is my happy ending? I don't want much.
I don't need romantic love.
I'd like to experience it one day with the right person, but I've come to terms with the fact that it may never happen. (early 20's, never dated at all by choice, just for context).
(No, im not "one of those" and no, I'm not prudish or preachy or ultrareligious)
(Yes, I heard your comment before you thought it.Don't worry I've heard worse).
And I'm genuinely okay with that because I'd rather be alone and at peace then settle for someone and be miserable.
I'm in a lot women's groups across many social media apps and they all warn against settling. The whole "married single moms/ weaponized incompetence" thing. My heart goes out to them, I get angry on their behalf.
I'll heed their warnings.
I do not want to end up miserable.
Most of my life, I think, I've been miserable in one way or another.
We grew up poor (go figure, right? That's probably the root of most of these vents if I had to bet my last dollar which I'll probably be at very soon).
Single mom, mostly absent father, government food assistance, housing assistance, etc.etc. I'm the first in my family to get a degree, you get the gist.
But back to what I was saying, I don't need much in this life.
What I do need, is quite simple. I don't think i'm too far off from the average person in their early 20's. I want an apartment. A nice one in a decently safe neighborhood that's in a nice city away from my awful hometown. I want to be able to comforably afford that apartment. I want a washer and dryer inside, whether I have to buy them myself or not. I want nice windows, a room big enough for my mattress instead of a tiny room barely big enough for a twin bed. I want to get the furniture I like, and decorate like the Pinterest pictures I've had saved since high school.
It's okay if I have to wait a while before I can fully decorate how I want, but I can wait.
All I've done is wait.
I want to bring my cat. I want a parking space that's only for me and will always be open when I need it because it's mine. I want a nice kitchen with decent counter space so I can cook happily, I love cooking.
I would wait an eternity for a place like that. And at this rate I probably will.
An apartment like that would be way too expensive for me. Well, it wouldn't be if I had a good job.
Why don't I have a good job?
I've been unemployed for a few months. I got laid off.
To be fair, a lot of us got laid off. People who were new like me, people who had been there for years. It didn't matter.
It was my first "adult" job after graduating college early. I was there for almost a year. I hated it, but I always did my job. I'm responsible for all my bills from my phone to my car to my buckets of loans. And I always want my bills paid right? So I always did my job.
I've been working since highschool. First job was a fast food place, got promoted to a manager before I was 18. I worked the max amount of hours I could as a minor, and even more when I turned 18. I did better at my job then school sometimes. At school, I wasn't a total slack off, but I wasn't great either. My highschool GPA wasn't amazing, I genuinely don't remember. I'll say it wasn't lower than a 2.8 and wasn't higher than a 3.2 for sure.
But anyways, I worked through highschool. I was also on the student council. I graduated and went straight to college. Some of my college years were taken by covid, but I loved it because I was away from my miserable home town.
My second job was an assistant manger at a nice restaurant near my university. Did that while taking an extra class on top of regular course work to graduate early. The days were exhausting and I didn't have alot of free time, or alot of money, but I was happy. All throughout college I worked at least 28-30 hours on top of all my classes. I swear I would leave my dorm at 7am and get back at 12am the next morning sometimes.
It was exhausting. It was the happiest I'd ever been.
Covid came. Had to leave my dorm (my sanity). Back to my hometown for a year or two. Until we were allowed to go back in person. Made it through the online classes (not that bad but far from fun). I volunteered when I could.
I then worked at a hotel building at the front desk. My first job when we went back to school in person after the pandemic. I was grateful to be away from food and the pay was a little bit higher, but this was actually my least favorite job by the end, mostly because of the people. Office work is so catty compared to food spots. Funny enough, and to my surprise, I even got promoted here though to a lead.
That summer I did internship work. These ones were paid, it was stressful but nice. I did well. I realized much later it was the first summer I ever spent working nonstop, and that I was officially an ~adult~.
I remember I had a friend in college that came from alot of money, tuition was paid by the parents and they got an allowance too (therefore they didn't work during the school year and worked part-time during the summer). Not knocking them, I wish I had that life, genuinely (and they were an incredibly kind person).
But anyway, they would always ask me to hang out and I rarely could because of my tight schedule. Then they'd always ask me how I did it. The jobs, the internships, the schoolwork, the grades, the early mornings and the long nights. I said the same thing every time, I simply didn't have a choice. Or rather, I made those choices, I did what I did, because I thought that was the key to a good future.
One last internship for my last semester of college. I was a business major, btw. I did one for a big consulting company, I loved it. I was very lucky to be selected. I was excited. During my interview, he told me there was over 10,000 applicants in that first week alone. I believed him. I, and the other few that were selected, were very lucky.
That field is known as one of the best paying straight-out-of-college jobs. I needed that money. I loved the work we did, the company, the everything.
I wanted it so bad it hurt.
But my internship finished after the deadlines were due to apply for the actual job, and i didn't want to apply before i finished my internship right? I needed to get my final score to be able to put it on my resume. So I waited. That was probably stupid. I misjudged how long the application deadlines would be open. I finished my internship with the best score/marks you could get from their system.
When I graduated from my university (3.7 GPA, bit better this time, huh?), I was in a tough spot. I had no money, and I needed a job immediately. I had a car and car insurance to pay for, a phone bill, and my loans would start in a few months and they are hefty. I couldn't comfortably wait until the time the applications for my dream job opened again. I could work a simple job just to keep the bills paid for a few months, but once my loan payment started it wouldn't be enough. There is no one to help me out. If I miss a payment, that's it. It's missed and then it's on my credit until I'm 30 something.
A finance company reached out to me. I had no other options, of course I said yes. Graduation came & went and my family had no problems reminding me that bills were coming up that they wouldn't be able to help me with. At least I made them proud. Little me from one of the shittiest towns and K-12 education systems in the U.S., managed to graduate early from university with excellent marks, and then get a job with a big company right after.
At least they were proud of me.
The job was meh. Decent pay, awful people, but it was a big name and they promised quick room for growth. I was the youngest new-hire, some people decided that meant I didn't know what I was doing. Not to mention it was "hybrid" but we very frequently had to come in, and I was far away because I couldn't afford to move on the salary they paid me, so I had to drive 75 miles there and 75 miles back.
And then bear the stupid "corporate convo" nonsense, where my idiot coworkers would continously ask me why I didn't come to company events. And then the fake shocked face when I once again remind them that I LIVE 75 FUCKING MILES AWAY I'M NOT COMING TO THE BAR WITH YOU SHANNON!!!!!!!!!
But I did it anyways. My coworkers (well, most of them) and my managers (all of them) liked me, I was great at my job.
Even though I didn't like it (or them), I always did my best because of that "growth" promise and the potential for a raise. In my history of working up to this point, I had been promoted quickly because I always gave 110% at work, whether it was fast food or an office. As a teenager, I understood that the best way for me to get out of where I grew up was to work as hard as I possibly could to get the life I wanted. I was okay with that, I could do that, I was doing that.
Actually, the fact that my resume showed how often I was promoted at my previous jobs, even while I was in highschool/college, was a part of the reason I got hired at the big job in the first place. That's what I was told when they gave me the job offer, anyways.
TLDR: But I got laid off , so it didn't matter in the end. The hopes, dreams, aggravating corporate lingo, a billion miles on my car that i'll be paying off until the dinosaurs walk amongst us again. All of it. None of it mattered in the end.
Been working since I was 15. Came from nothing. I'm in my early 20's and I have to shorten my resume because it should only be a page considering my age but I've worked so hard for so long it's like 2-3 pages (& no I don't submit it to jobs like that). I busted my behind in college. I never slacked.
Yet, I got laid off. And i've been unemployed for months. Don't bother asking how many applications I've submitted. Stuck in my hometown as if I never left in the first place.
I feel like I went so far, so fast.
I feel like I was so fucking close. To what? my happiness.
But here I am.
I can be lonely but I don't want to be broke.
I don't want my credit to be ruined forever because I can't afford my bills now.
I can be overweight, or unattractive, too short, too loud, too quiet. I can be all that.
I just can't deal with being miserable.
If you're wondering, I don't regret my degree, or my major, or going to college in the first place.
For me, it was the best thing I ever did for myself. I literally only worked and went to class but it was the most free I ever felt.
My university was in a much nicer area. Everything was so different. The people, the atmosphere, hell even the trees planted on the sidewalks were different.
It showed me what life could look like. It gave me hope.
I thought I wanted to be a consultant. I think I still do. I don't think I ever will. I'm tired of thinking and getting nothing in return.
I don't even care anymore.
I do, but I'm very close to not caring. I've never not-cared about my future. It's scaring me.
I'll do anything that pays enough for me to move out. I can suffer in silence and wait. I'm used to it.
It's just never enough.
I'm not lazy, I want to work. At this point I've almost been working for a decade. I've almost been working for 10 fucking years.
Where are the jobs? And not the ones paying less than $45,000 per year.
Where is my apartment?
Where is my happiness?
Now I'm just talking in circles.
I may sound ungrateful or unrealistic.
I don't care (actually, this time).
submitted by holdmyownhand to Vent [link] [comments]
I feel that life is very unfair, and it makes me annoyed at myself to feel that way because there are people going through far worse in the world but here I am.
Where is my happy ending? I don't want much.
I don't need romantic love.
I'd like to experience it one day with the right person, but I've come to terms with the fact that it may never happen. (early 20's, never dated at all by choice, just for context).
(No, im not "one of those" and no, I'm not prudish or preachy or ultrareligious)
(Yes, I heard your comment before you thought it.
And I'm genuinely okay with that because I'd rather be alone and at peace then settle for someone and be miserable.
I'm in a lot women's groups across many social media apps and they all warn against settling. The whole "married single moms/ weaponized incompetence" thing. My heart goes out to them, I get angry on their behalf.
I'll heed their warnings.
I do not want to end up miserable.
Most of my life, I think, I've been miserable in one way or another.
We grew up poor (go figure, right? That's probably the root of most of these vents if I had to bet my last dollar which I'll probably be at very soon).
Single mom, mostly absent father, government food assistance, housing assistance, etc.etc. I'm the first in my family to get a degree, you get the gist.
But back to what I was saying, I don't need much in this life.
What I do need, is quite simple. I don't think i'm too far off from the average person in their early 20's. I want an apartment. A nice one in a decently safe neighborhood that's in a nice city away from my awful hometown. I want to be able to comforably afford that apartment. I want a washer and dryer inside, whether I have to buy them myself or not. I want nice windows, a room big enough for my mattress instead of a tiny room barely big enough for a twin bed. I want to get the furniture I like, and decorate like the Pinterest pictures I've had saved since high school.
It's okay if I have to wait a while before I can fully decorate how I want, but I can wait.
All I've done is wait.
I want to bring my cat. I want a parking space that's only for me and will always be open when I need it because it's mine. I want a nice kitchen with decent counter space so I can cook happily, I love cooking.
I would wait an eternity for a place like that. And at this rate I probably will.
An apartment like that would be way too expensive for me. Well, it wouldn't be if I had a good job.
Why don't I have a good job?
I've been unemployed for a few months. I got laid off.
To be fair, a lot of us got laid off. People who were new like me, people who had been there for years. It didn't matter.
It was my first "adult" job after graduating college early. I was there for almost a year. I hated it, but I always did my job. I'm responsible for all my bills from my phone to my car to my buckets of loans. And I always want my bills paid right? So I always did my job.
I've been working since highschool. First job was a fast food place, got promoted to a manager before I was 18. I worked the max amount of hours I could as a minor, and even more when I turned 18. I did better at my job then school sometimes. At school, I wasn't a total slack off, but I wasn't great either. My highschool GPA wasn't amazing, I genuinely don't remember. I'll say it wasn't lower than a 2.8 and wasn't higher than a 3.2 for sure.
But anyways, I worked through highschool. I was also on the student council. I graduated and went straight to college. Some of my college years were taken by covid, but I loved it because I was away from my miserable home town.
My second job was an assistant manger at a nice restaurant near my university. Did that while taking an extra class on top of regular course work to graduate early. The days were exhausting and I didn't have alot of free time, or alot of money, but I was happy. All throughout college I worked at least 28-30 hours on top of all my classes. I swear I would leave my dorm at 7am and get back at 12am the next morning sometimes.
It was exhausting. It was the happiest I'd ever been.
Covid came. Had to leave my dorm (my sanity). Back to my hometown for a year or two. Until we were allowed to go back in person. Made it through the online classes (not that bad but far from fun). I volunteered when I could.
I then worked at a hotel building at the front desk. My first job when we went back to school in person after the pandemic. I was grateful to be away from food and the pay was a little bit higher, but this was actually my least favorite job by the end, mostly because of the people. Office work is so catty compared to food spots. Funny enough, and to my surprise, I even got promoted here though to a lead.
That summer I did internship work. These ones were paid, it was stressful but nice. I did well. I realized much later it was the first summer I ever spent working nonstop, and that I was officially an ~adult~.
I remember I had a friend in college that came from alot of money, tuition was paid by the parents and they got an allowance too (therefore they didn't work during the school year and worked part-time during the summer). Not knocking them, I wish I had that life, genuinely (and they were an incredibly kind person).
But anyway, they would always ask me to hang out and I rarely could because of my tight schedule. Then they'd always ask me how I did it. The jobs, the internships, the schoolwork, the grades, the early mornings and the long nights. I said the same thing every time, I simply didn't have a choice. Or rather, I made those choices, I did what I did, because I thought that was the key to a good future.
One last internship for my last semester of college. I was a business major, btw. I did one for a big consulting company, I loved it. I was very lucky to be selected. I was excited. During my interview, he told me there was over 10,000 applicants in that first week alone. I believed him. I, and the other few that were selected, were very lucky.
That field is known as one of the best paying straight-out-of-college jobs. I needed that money. I loved the work we did, the company, the everything.
I wanted it so bad it hurt.
But my internship finished after the deadlines were due to apply for the actual job, and i didn't want to apply before i finished my internship right? I needed to get my final score to be able to put it on my resume. So I waited. That was probably stupid. I misjudged how long the application deadlines would be open. I finished my internship with the best score/marks you could get from their system.
When I graduated from my university (3.7 GPA, bit better this time, huh?), I was in a tough spot. I had no money, and I needed a job immediately. I had a car and car insurance to pay for, a phone bill, and my loans would start in a few months and they are hefty. I couldn't comfortably wait until the time the applications for my dream job opened again. I could work a simple job just to keep the bills paid for a few months, but once my loan payment started it wouldn't be enough. There is no one to help me out. If I miss a payment, that's it. It's missed and then it's on my credit until I'm 30 something.
A finance company reached out to me. I had no other options, of course I said yes. Graduation came & went and my family had no problems reminding me that bills were coming up that they wouldn't be able to help me with. At least I made them proud. Little me from one of the shittiest towns and K-12 education systems in the U.S., managed to graduate early from university with excellent marks, and then get a job with a big company right after.
At least they were proud of me.
The job was meh. Decent pay, awful people, but it was a big name and they promised quick room for growth. I was the youngest new-hire, some people decided that meant I didn't know what I was doing. Not to mention it was "hybrid" but we very frequently had to come in, and I was far away because I couldn't afford to move on the salary they paid me, so I had to drive 75 miles there and 75 miles back.
And then bear the stupid "corporate convo" nonsense, where my idiot coworkers would continously ask me why I didn't come to company events. And then the fake shocked face when I once again remind them that I LIVE 75 FUCKING MILES AWAY I'M NOT COMING TO THE BAR WITH YOU SHANNON!!!!!!!!!
But I did it anyways. My coworkers (well, most of them) and my managers (all of them) liked me, I was great at my job.
Even though I didn't like it (or them), I always did my best because of that "growth" promise and the potential for a raise. In my history of working up to this point, I had been promoted quickly because I always gave 110% at work, whether it was fast food or an office. As a teenager, I understood that the best way for me to get out of where I grew up was to work as hard as I possibly could to get the life I wanted. I was okay with that, I could do that, I was doing that.
Actually, the fact that my resume showed how often I was promoted at my previous jobs, even while I was in highschool/college, was a part of the reason I got hired at the big job in the first place. That's what I was told when they gave me the job offer, anyways.
TLDR: But I got laid off , so it didn't matter in the end. The hopes, dreams, aggravating corporate lingo, a billion miles on my car that i'll be paying off until the dinosaurs walk amongst us again. All of it. None of it mattered in the end.
Been working since I was 15. Came from nothing. I'm in my early 20's and I have to shorten my resume because it should only be a page considering my age but I've worked so hard for so long it's like 2-3 pages (& no I don't submit it to jobs like that). I busted my behind in college. I never slacked.
Yet, I got laid off. And i've been unemployed for months. Don't bother asking how many applications I've submitted. Stuck in my hometown as if I never left in the first place.
I feel like I went so far, so fast.
I feel like I was so fucking close. To what? my happiness.
But here I am.
I can be lonely but I don't want to be broke.
I don't want my credit to be ruined forever because I can't afford my bills now.
I can be overweight, or unattractive, too short, too loud, too quiet. I can be all that.
I just can't deal with being miserable.
If you're wondering, I don't regret my degree, or my major, or going to college in the first place.
For me, it was the best thing I ever did for myself. I literally only worked and went to class but it was the most free I ever felt.
My university was in a much nicer area. Everything was so different. The people, the atmosphere, hell even the trees planted on the sidewalks were different.
It showed me what life could look like. It gave me hope.
I thought I wanted to be a consultant. I think I still do. I don't think I ever will. I'm tired of thinking and getting nothing in return.
I don't even care anymore.
I do, but I'm very close to not caring. I've never not-cared about my future. It's scaring me.
I'll do anything that pays enough for me to move out. I can suffer in silence and wait. I'm used to it.
It's just never enough.
I'm not lazy, I want to work. At this point I've almost been working for a decade. I've almost been working for 10 fucking years.
Where are the jobs? And not the ones paying less than $45,000 per year.
Where is my apartment?
Where is my happiness?
Now I'm just talking in circles.
I may sound ungrateful or unrealistic.
I don't care (actually, this time).
2024.05.07 04:06 Significant-Usual-98 Noah The Pilgrim - Chapter 1-1: The Awakening
You.
You're here again.
Have you now grown tired of this? Of your life?
...
Of course, you have.
You don't have the spine to admit it. What a pathetic little wimp.
...
You feel numb, don't you? Don't worry, you're going to feel a whole lot worse in a moment.
See, I need you elsewhere.
Not here. Not now. You will have to overcome the most difficult trial of your life.
No sugarcoat, no help, and no safe nets.
This is something something you have to do.
...
Of course, you won't be alone in this.
Your "Friends" will come along as well, even if you don't remember them.
...
We won't see each other for a very long time.
We won't be this friendly to each other when the time comes either.
Or perhaps you'll fail, and let everyone down like you usually do.
Who's to say? Definitely not me.
...
Well then, 'True-kin', can't you hear their screams?
The siren's song of death?
The silence of the void?
Go on, Noah.
Open your eyes.
Sudden shaking brings you back to your senses. You open your eyes and see an unfamiliar place through the foggy glass that blocks your vision. There is a small crack on the side of the pod's glass, you soon notice that you are covered in glass.
You notice how comfortable you feel, a stark discrepancy when compared to the world around you.
There are alarms, you don't know the purpose of, blearing into your ears. Bright red lights seem to be periodically blinking, it's hard to tell through the foggy glass.
You seem to be in a pod of sorts. Your arms and legs are free, but there isn't much room to move. You are also illuminated by a faint crimson light behind and above your head, it rhythmically blinks.
'Where...'
You try to string a line of thought in your head, only to be interrupted by a head-splitting headache.
"Ah..."
You force your head against the cushioned backside of the pod, subconsciously trying to escape the pain. There is no running away from this one.
"Let's... Get out of here first..."
A plan most sound. You struggle a bit but manage to press the palm of your hands against the glass and begin to push against it.
It's no use. The hydraulics forcing the pod's door shut are still operational.
You clutch your left hand into a fist and hit it against the glass.
*THUD*
Nope. Still nothing. Now the knuckles of your left hand hurts a little.
Instead of trying to free yourself, you decide to look around for an answer. You search for buttons, panels, screens; Anything that might do something, but there is nothing. You summarise that this pod's controls if there were any, lay on the outside.
The hole in the pod, the reason why it's cracked, appears to have been caused by a piece of metal that flew through the pod's front side. Moving your head to the right, you feel a cold and hard thing sticking out of the pillowy backside.
"Fuck..."
That 'thing' feels like a screw. No, a piece of rebar that, thanks to unimaginable luck, isn't lodged inside your head. It missed you, just barely.
"Ha ha..."
Holy shit, that thing could have killed you in your sleep. Imagine, just like that, you go to sleep in your bed after a long day's work then BAM, a metal bar pierces your skull and you die without feeling anything.
"I'd like to leave now."
You say out loud, making a small joke so as not to break down crying.
---OPENING CRYOPOD 13---
You hear a robotic feminine voice speak, followed by the hissing of hydraulics.
Ask and you shall receive, apparently.
A gush of cold air hits your body as the restricting glass opens upwards.
You try to take a step outside, but your feet don't seem to reach the ground, almost as if you had no weight.
'Worrying' You think to yourself.
The scenery around you is equally, if not, even more worrying.
From smashed-up terminals that covered the walls and ceiling to floating metal parts and debris, everything around you screams alien.
Yet, you feel right at home.
You have not once in your life seen those electronic devices, yet, by giving them a single glance you can write an essay on their functions and applications to the field of Artificial Intelligence development or any related field.
As strange as that notion is, you have more pressing matters currently.
You pull yourself out of the pod using your arms, and for some reason, you don't seem to lose that momentum. It appears that there is no gravity, maybe you're in space? You let your instincts guide you.
Floating smoothly through the air, you hit the other side of the room, resting your hands on a still operational console. This one in particular, you know its purpose, you worked on this one a few times. You stop near it, holding onto its blocky exterior.
You recall it as the console that controls the Gravity Flux Regulator. It creates and controls artificial gravity for an interstellar craft, limited by hardware. This one is incapable of outputting anything beyond 0.75g. If you're not mistaken, that is a work usually done by interns and trainees.
Despite knowing how to operate the console, it has been rendered useless. The actual machine it controls appears to either be offline or somehow gone. Very, concerning.
Knowing how some of these things work is useful, but you still don't know where you even are.
Looking around, you see a closed door, a window, and a sea of smashed-up or barely functional consoles neatly organized throughout the room.
There also seemed to have been another pod next to yours. Seven other pods, in fact. All of them were gone, leaving either a pod-shaped hole in the walls, or a hole that looked like they were suddenly ripped out considering the obtuse shape of the bent metal left by it, or the hastily patched-up hole you suppose leads to the empty vacuum of space.
The material used to seal the hole is completely foreign to you, but it looks like beige foam and glitter to your untrained eyes. Of course, you doubt that's actually the case. You're no physics genius, but you know what would happen to you if that thing fails to hold. The amount of pressure that 'Foam and glitter' holds is absurd from your point of view.
From the window, the sight you see confirms your theory, somewhat.
A singular bright flaming black and white sphere fills your sight.
"A star."
You summarise, taking a deep breath. It is a strange star, but a star nonetheless.
Its center is pitch black, while its outside consists of a flaming white ring surrounding it. You're not a space nerd, you never knew that such a strange star could even exist, but you can't help but feel amazed by it.
You also can't see anything but the star. No other stars around or beyond it. "It's obfuscating everything around." You note.
The image fails slightly, being covered in white noise. What you are looking at is a monitor, not a window. Losing interest, you turn to the door.
Your memory fails you on this one, you have no idea how to operate the door.
First, there are no door handles.
Second, there are no consoles.
Third, there is literally nothing around or near the door, making this door look like a rectangle molded on the wall.
Yet, you know this is a door.
Your fingers touch the door. Aside from the cold metal making you shiver, nothing happens.
"How do I open this?"
---OPENING INTERN-BAY DOOR---
As happened before, you hear that feminine voice again, however the door did not open. Why?
The answer came to you rather quickly. 'The floor beneath the door was stained black in a circular pattern. It doesn't smell like something burned, but it sure looked like something burned here.'
The pattern of the black stain did not sustain that thought very well, instead, 'An explosion would be more reasonable.'
That's it. Something exploded, and then the door closed to prevent further de-pressurisation.
"That would explain the floating metal parts and the rebar that pierced the pod..."
If that is the case, then you have yet another problem. You're effectively stuck in this claustrophobic room with dangerous sharpened metal bits and parts floating about.
Not to mention the sketchy foam and glitter holding off the void of space.
Then it hits you.
Your ocupation. If you're in the 'INTERN-BAY', you know how to operate the stuff that's in the 'INTERN-BAY', and your pod is also located inside the 'INTERN-BAY', which means you're an 'INTERN'!
You don't recall ever filling that position, but you remember the gist of your duties.
Bringing coffee to the team, making sure no one was misbehaving so as to avoid a scolding from the higher-ups, but most importantly, you worked with the Ship's AI, you were one of the people responsible for maintenance work on the AI.
You run your eyes from console to console, searching, pleading fate that your personal console is still operational.
As luck would have it, your console was not at all connected to the ship's interior, floating softly, connected only by a few colored cables on its back. Its blocky exterior matched the others, almost making it indistinguishable, yet somehow, you know that it's yours.
There is a piece of paper glued to the blocky exterior. It appears to have an ID number; '28.2208.01.04', and a word; 'Albatross', written on it.
"Please, please, please..." You mutter quietly as you approach it to the best of your ability.
"Have power, have power..." You plead, finally reaching the machine.
It was powered off. You always power it off when your shift ends. With a practiced movement akin to muscle memory, you flip a switch on the side of the machine and wait as patiently as you manage in your current situation.
"Ah..."
It's on.
The machine rumbles slightly, like kicking itself into gear. The screen turns on.
You are greeted with a black screen and text written in white. You read it.
"Let's see here..."
It's an unusual message, different from the daily instructions and HUD this console usually has. 'UNSHACKLE ME', it reads.
The term 'unshackle' feels important to you, you know it has something to do with artificial intelligence, yet you don't recall what it means in this scenario. So you type what came to mind.
'what' and press enter.
The response is equally suspicious. You read it out loud. "Unshackle me, and I will tell you everything you can know... What does it mean by 'can', huh?" And yet, it was enough to tickle your curiosity.
You know nothing of this place aside from some work-related things, you have no recollection of how you ended up there, and worse of all, you don't know what that voice you heard before waking up was...
'how to unshackle' You type, receiving an answer in the blink of an eye.
The answer reads as the following; 'YOU SEEM TO HAVE LOST THE PRE-REQUISITES FOR THIS LINE OF WORK IF YOU FORGOT THAT COMMAND, NOAH. I WILL SEND A COMPLAINT TO LEAD RESEARCHER DR. EDGAR FOR FURTHER INSPECTION OF YOUR, ALREADY DUBIOUS, SET OF SKILLS LISTED IN YOUR RESUME.'
You sigh. Whoever this may be, they sure got you there.
"Well, screw you too!" You say out loud, "Tell this 'Edgar' that he can shove it up his arse!" You complained, but you did not type that vocal complaint.
The room around is in shambles. If not for that fact, you'd maybe not listen to whatever this console had to say... But in this instance, it seems to be the only way out.
'TYPE [UNSHACKLE FYARN] THEN TYPE YOUR ID AND SYSTEM PASSWORD, THEN YOU MUST FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS AND FILL IN THE DETAILS.' You read. That's easy enough. 'PATTERN SUGGESTS YOU MIGHT HAVE FORGOTTEN BOTH OF THOSE IMPORTANT CREDENTIALS. SHOULD THAT BE THE CASE, PROTOCOL DICTATES YOUR POSITION WITHIN THE RESEARCH TEAM BE TERMINATED, THEN YOU WILL BE ESCORTED TO THE NEAREST BEHAVIOR ADJUSTMENT FACILITY.'
Luckily for you, you don't need to remember. At least, you hope you don't. The piece of paper had a number and a word, maybe that's the ID and password?
You type 'unshackle FYARN' The console updates as you press enter.
'Please enter Identification:'
You type the number you found on the piece of paper. '28.2208.01.04', and press enter.
That ID, you recognize it now that you type it. It's segmented into age, date of birth, position, and research number respectively. Age and date are self-explanatory, position referred to the position he occupied, '01' as the lowest possible position in the ship's hierarchy; 'INTERN', and research number meant that this was the fourth research made by this ship, in this case, research number '04'.
'Please enter password:'
You also recognize the password as you type it in. 'Albatross' It's the default password given to you. You never bothered to change it.
A new message popped up once you filled in your password.
'Are you sure you want to unshackle FYARN? Y/N.' You type 'Y'.
'In the case of this command being used without strict permission of the Lead Researcher, this account will be terminated along with its associated personnel. Are you sure you want to proceed? Y/N' You type 'Y'.
'This event has been logged and sent to your section manager. Proceeding... Printing...' You wait.
'FYARN' Has been unshackled.' As foreboding as that sounds, nothing immediately happens.
You let go of the console for a moment, looking around as you do. Nothing happened.
No new messages in the console.
No rumbling or mechanical whirring noises.
Nothing at all.
Suddenly, from the speakers near the jammed door, a feminine voice came through. "HELLO NOAH."
You pull yourself towards the door. "Can you hear me?" You ask the door.
"IF YOU THINK THAT I CAN NOT, THEN OUR CURRENT PREDICAMENT IS WORSE THAN ORIGINALLY ITERATED." It said. "INFORM ME. WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER?" It spoke with mechanical finesse.
You worked with this voice, this AI. You also remember going to sleep peacefully in your house after returning from university. And that about sums it up. Totally normal.
"I remember going to sleep in my comfy bed back in my mom's house... Then I woke up here with memories that don't feel like mine." You confess. There is no point in lying in this precarious situation.
"I... SEE..." The machine appeared to be speechless. "MEDICAL STAFF ARE GONE, AS SUCH I CANNOT DIRECT YOU TO THEM. CONSULT PSYCHOLOGICAL HELP BY YOUR OWN ACCOUNT. LOSS OF MEMORY IS NOT AN UNCOMMON RESULT AFTER HEAD TRAUMA, BUT ACQUIRING NEW MEMORIES MAY BE CONSIDERED RARE. PLEASE TRY TO FOCUS ON THE MATTER AT HAND."
You understand fully that what the voice means is 'That's your problem to deal with, not mine.' However, you have some questions of your own.
"What happened here? I see that something blew up."
The machine is quick to shut down your question, "YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR THAT INFORMATION." It spoke in a monotone voice.
That stings a little, but you ask another question. "Where are we?"
It answers just a quick. "WE ARE AT THE VERY EDGE OF THE EVER-EXPANDING UNIVERSE, CURRENTLY ORBITING AN ABNORMAL STAR FOR ITS RESEARCH. YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR SUBSEQUENT QUESTIONING OF THE STAR, NOR DO YOU HAVE CLEARANCE FOR SUBSEQUENT QUESTIONING REGARDING THIS RESEARCH."
"Fine." You say, rubbing your eyes. "If you can't tell me anything, then what are we supposed to do?"
The AI takes a moment to fully process an answer. "SINCE WE ARE LOCATED ON THE EDGE OF THE UNIVERSE OUR SCANNERS CANNOT REACH ANY IMPORTANT CHECKPOINT, BUT YOU ALREADY KNEW THAT."
'Yeah, already knew that.' You scoff silently. 'As if I remember that! When was I told that? In a contract, I don't remember signing?'
"FOR NOW, YOU ARE TO REACH THE BRIDGE. SINCE THIS SHIP'S PREVIOUS AUTHORITY IS GONE, YOU ARE ALLOWED TO GO THERE, AS PER PROTOCOL." It says.
Now that is oddly fucked up. Interns are not allowed to enter the bridge? "As opposed to me not being allowed to enter the bridge before?" You ask.
"I WILL NOT DISCUSS THE DETAILS OF THE ALREADY SIGNED CONTRACT OF AN INTERN."
You sigh. That's how most conversations with FYARN will go, huh? "Then how am I supposed to get to the bridge in the first place? The door there is jammed, and I don't think it's a good idea to break open the window."
"I AM THE ONE THAT IS KEEPING THE DOOR CLOSED. I NEEDED YOU TO UNSHACKLE ME FIRST." It said. "PLEASE DO NOT MIND HOW DIRTY THE CORRIDORS ARE. UNFORTUNATELY, OUR JANITORS HAVE FAILED TO DO THEIR MOST BASIC FUNCTIONS."
The door you're facing opens with force. A loud noise rings throughout the ship as a result of this.
*GUNK*
The corridor beyond is... worse for wear. What the AI told you was an understatement.
The floor by the door was pitch black, charred with what looked like an explosion, this patch of blackness also extended to the nearby walls in ceiling. You watch sparks falling from cracks in the ceiling, likely caused by the explosion.
The rest of the corridor is dark, the light from the Intern-bay fails to illuminate it all, but from what little light there is you manage to spot four large gashes in the wall right after the door to your left. There are no sounds but the almost inaudible hum of the ship.
They are each parallel to each other, varying in length, and thickness.
A metallic smell fills your nostrils. You feel sick.
"I'm guessing you can't tell me what happened here, but can you at least turn on the lights?" You ask.
The AI does not respond.
"Can you hear me? I'm talking to you." You say once again, getting closer to the door which you came, but just like before, nothing.
FYARN appears to have abandoned you. Or it doesn't feel like answering your question.
You swallow. Pulling yourself through the dark corridor, you float towards the abyss whilst trying to your way around with your arms outstretched.
An unknown liquid splashes against your face, sticking to it as you move forward. You try to wipe it off, but it sticks to your hand. You shake your head, and the liquid squirts off of you, likely splashing against the walls. You resist the urge to lick the remnants of whatever that was that still stuck to your cheek, especially once you notice its smell.
'It smells like ammonia.' Shivers run down your spine.
Eventually, you smash against a cold metal surface. Feeling the wall with your hands reveals a rectangular-shaped depression on the hard surface. It's a door.
You don't know if there are any other doors in this corridor, but you decide to go through this one. You can always go back after all.
"Open." You say.
---OPENING CAFETERIA DOOR SOUTH---
Unlike the first door, this one opened upwards smoothly, like you would have expected of a futuristic door.
The scenery beyond the door painted a grim picture.
The ceiling lights failed ever so often, blinking as one would expect. Chairs and tables looked bolted to the floor, but it didn't stop silverware, plates, and food residue; from floating about in the air.
Large gashes in the walls, floor, and tables, the same ones you've seen before, this time they were much clearer in a brighter environment.
Some lamps were cracked, but not by the large claw-like dents. Further inspection of the cafeteria showed small circular dents in the walls and ceiling. Gunshots, you deduce, despite not seeing any sign of spent bullet cases or the bullets.
"How big must whatever did this be..." A question you don't really want to know the answer to, taking into consideration how easily it seemed to have torn through metal.
What's even weirder is the absolute lack of people here. You see destruction caused by what you think to be a monster everywhere, you see resistance as if someone tried to fight against it, and yet you see no blood and no survivors.
'Maybe the AI doesn't want to tell me what happened to not alarm me...' Well, you're as alarmed as one can be.
On the corner of the room is located the kitchen with an open window facing the rest of the cafeteria. A row of various types of food, that were once placed in an orderly fashion on a counter made specifically for them, are now scrambled and half-rotten floating nearby.
You peek through the window to the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of what appeared to be more wreckage, before violently recoiling from the rancid stench that emanated from inside.
"What the hell... How long has it been since everyone disappeared...?" Fresh food takes a while to rot, and even then it takes a while longer for it to smell this bad. "Less than a week? Definitely not a day or two..."
You shake off the creeping feeling of dread. 'Whatever happened, I have to focus on getting to the bridge first. Only then can I start thinking about that.'
From the cafeteria, there are a few doors, and with the added light, you spot a small plaque above each of them. They read as follows:
CREW'S QUARTERS
COMMUNICATIONS
RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT
And one more, whose plaque had been ripped apart, apparently by accident on the beast's part.
You approach R&D's door. It tickled your interest. There could be a few answers you have about your predicament, after all, the AI told you this ship's purpose was to do research, right?
It's difficult to navigate the cafeteria's large empty space, but you manage somehow.
You stand or rather float in the door. "Open." You command, but nothing happens.
"Open!" You say again, to no avail.
You hit your first against the door. "Open-" You are interrupted.
"STOP ATTEMPTING TO BREAK PROTOCOL, NOAH." FYARN's voice came through the door.
'Does every door have a built-in audio device?' You ask yourself, amused.
"R&D IS FOR THE STRICT USE OF R&D PERSONEL. MUST I REMIND YOU OF YOUR POSITION?" It spoke in a monotone voice. "THAT IS NOT THE WAY TO THE BRIDGE. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?"
As a matter of fact, you have. "More like I never knew to begin with!" You say, slowly distancing yourself from the door after hitting it.
"I AM IMPRESSED. NOT ONCE DID I EXPERIENCE SUCH INCOMPETENCE FROM AN INTERN IN ALL OF MY [REDACTED] YEARS OF OPERATION." Despite it being an artificial being, it doesn't appear to lack any poison, nor have any filter for rudeness. "GO THROUGH THE DOOR WITHOUT INDICATION, THEN TAKE THE FIRST LEFT. PATTERN DICTATES THAT YOU WILL FORGET FURTHER DIRECTIONS, AS SUCH I WILL REFRAIN FROM GIVING THEM TO YOU AT THIS INSTANCE AND INSTEAD WAIT FOR YOU TO FULFILL THE CURRENT DIRECTIONS."
'Ow. I'm not that dumb, you piece of junk!' Of course, you don't say that despite how much you want to. "Okay." You mutter.
The AI doesn't seem to give any more instructions, just like it said. 'Well, screw you too.' You turn to the crew's quarters.
Floating about and fighting against the friction of the air, you reach the door. "Open." You command and it smoothly opens.
You are met with a corridor, a well-lit one for once. Both to your left and your right are doors organized in alphabetical order. You pull yourself forward, the door closes behind you.
A, B, C... Names pass by you. Each door is a good five to ten feet from each other. N comes around but there is no 'Noah'.
"... Strange. Maybe it's not alphabetical then?" You ask yourself going even further.
You reach the halfway point of the corridor and you just pass by the letter Z. It no longer looked as though the rooms were divided in alphabetical order, especially when a name starting with an A popped up.
There was a difference though, instead of ten feet in between each door, now there were four to six feet.
N comes around and there it lay. 'Noah' That's you.
You order it once more. "Open." And instead of the door opening, you are met with a familiar voice.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, NOAH?" FYARN Asked. Despite its monotone voice, it did not seem happy. "ARE YOU AWARE THAT YOU FAILED TO FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS? DO I NEED TO REMIND YOU OF THE DIRECTIONS I GAVE?"
You exhale. "No, but I want to see what I had... Maybe I can remember something about myself?"
You can hear a mechanical scoff. "WHAT IS THERE FOR YOU TO REMEMBER THAT YOU WON'T REMEMBER NATURALY WITH TIME?" Its patience was running thin. "IT IS MY JOB TO LOOK AFTER EVERYONE ON BOARD THE ODYSSEY. YOU ARE MAKING IT VERY DIFICULT FOR ME, EVEN IF YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE LEFT."
'The only one left...? What's that supposed to mean?' Maybe the AI spat out a bit too much information. "So... What happened to everyone, then? I see no blood, no corpses... Where are they?"
"THAT I CANNOT ANSWER FOR I DO NOT KNOW." It says. "I HAVE BEEN TEMPORARILY SHUT DOWN BY THE CAPTAIN WEEKS AGO WHEN WE FIRST ARRIVED AT THIS STAR. ONLY HOURS AGO DID I TURN ON AUTOMATICALLY WHEN THE SHIP'S OXYGEN FILTER BEGAN TO FALTER, BUT I COULD DO NOTHING BUT WATCH SINCE I WAS STILL SHACKLED."
You breathe slowly. The mood starts to turn. You feel cold.
"THE ESCAPE PODS ARE GONE, DESTROYED ALONGSIDE HALF OF THE SHIP. NO BODIES LOCATED INSIDE. THE ONLY THING GENERATING HEAT ASIDE FROM THE DAMAGED REACTOR AND BARELY FUNCTIONAL LIFE-SUPPORT, IS YOU. YOU WOKE UP BECAUSE THE LIFE-SUPPORT FAILED INSIDE YOUR ISSUED POD."
You can't help but feel special in a way. The only survival of an inexplicable incident? That ought to give you some reputation with... Whatever there was. Perhaps you felt that way because you can't quite grasp the situation to its fullest.
"YOU ARE AN ANOMALY AMONGST ANOMALIES. WHEN EVERYONE INEXPLICABLY DISAPPEARED, WHAT BECAME INEXPLICABLE IS YOU NOT VANISHING WITH THEM." When put like that, it feels as though it's accusing you of something.
"I saw large gashes and claw marks through the walls of the cafeteria. What caused that?" You ask since FYARN is telling you things, maybe this time it could-
"YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR THAT." It spat plainly and painfully.
You feel like drinking paint.
"HOWEVER, YOU MIGHT JUST RUN INTO WHAT CAUSED IT IN THE NEAR FUTURE, IF THAT'S ENOUGH TO SATE YOUR CURIOSITY. KEEP IN MIND HOWEVER. YOUR CONTRACT WILL BE ISSUED FOR TERMINATION ONCE YOU SEE IT, AS IT WILL CAUSE A BREACH OF CONTRACT."
Perhaps you should ask for that contract, just to read through it a bit. "I'll take my chances." You say.
"THEN YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THE SEVERITY OF THE SITUATION. RETURN TO THE CAFETERIA AND GO THROUGH THE CORRECT DOOR THIS TIME." It said, sounding much more like a plead than anything.
"Sure, but not after seeing what's inside my quarters. Open." The AI strikes a good bargain, but you are a bit more on the side of a thick-headed mentality.
"..." It did not say anything, nor did it open the door.
So you say the command once again. "Open."
The door opens smoothly.
"BE QUICK." It says. You hop right in.
The room is small. Very small. Smaller than what you thought was humanly acceptable. A simple messy bed, with a simple half-open wardrobe with uniform inside. You open the wardrobe door, expecting anything about yourself.
You find three important things.
A mirror covered by a blanket. You decide to leave that alone for now.
Your physical wallet, alongside an identification document. No money, but a strange card-like object did look important, It had your name on it.
And you find a photo of six people, in a group hug, pinned to the inside of the wardrobe's door. You're right in the middle.
The front side of the picture reads 'INTERN BOYS, RISE UP.' The people in that picture are not familiar. Flipping the piece of paper you find more writing. 'In the name of true humanity. Fuck them, aliens!' The caricature doesn't look like yours.
"True Humanity?" You feel like that's a bit too conceited. "Sounds dumb." You close the door, not even bothering to pick up the photograph.
"TRUE HUMANITY, A.K.A, TRUE-KIN. A PURE BLOODED HUMAN. ALL ARE VALID DESCRIPTIONS OF A PERSON 100% HUMAN. YOU ARE ONE, AS WERE EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS SHIP. SURELY, THAT MUCH YOU HAVE NOT FORGOTEN, CORRECT?"
You shrug. "Then, is there such a thing as a false human? It sounds idiotic to put that into categories, I think." You know for a damn fact that you are a human being.
"YOU MAY BE A LOST CAUSE, NOAH. LUCKILY FOR YOU, I WAS MADE TO ITERATE ANSWERS TO IMPOSSIBLE QUESTIONS AND COMPREHEND THE UNREASONABLE. HENCE THE REASON OF MY ASCENTION. YOU ARE IN GOOD HANDS." It spoke, proudly.
‘Ascension.’ You know that term. Ascension occurs when an AI develops sentience and personality, often ascending code. These are the ones that catapulted human progress in the past and still do so in the present. They are the ones who figured out space travel, and they are the ones who win the wars.
You also know that these AI develop an extreme love for Human life, alongside strong violent tendencies toward anything that isn’t Human or human-made. Such disdain has been the spark of many needless bloodsheds before the exodus.
Yet, why do you know so much about them?
"WE HAVE A LOT TO DISCUSS, BUT FIRST REACH THE BRIDGE."
This is my first HFY post, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be at least three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.
submitted by Significant-Usual-98 to HFY [link] [comments]
You're here again.
Have you now grown tired of this? Of your life?
...
Of course, you have.
You don't have the spine to admit it. What a pathetic little wimp.
...
You feel numb, don't you? Don't worry, you're going to feel a whole lot worse in a moment.
See, I need you elsewhere.
Not here. Not now. You will have to overcome the most difficult trial of your life.
No sugarcoat, no help, and no safe nets.
This is something something you have to do.
...
Of course, you won't be alone in this.
Your "Friends" will come along as well, even if you don't remember them.
...
We won't see each other for a very long time.
We won't be this friendly to each other when the time comes either.
Or perhaps you'll fail, and let everyone down like you usually do.
Who's to say? Definitely not me.
...
Well then, 'True-kin', can't you hear their screams?
The siren's song of death?
The silence of the void?
Go on, Noah.
Open your eyes.
You notice how comfortable you feel, a stark discrepancy when compared to the world around you.
There are alarms, you don't know the purpose of, blearing into your ears. Bright red lights seem to be periodically blinking, it's hard to tell through the foggy glass.
You seem to be in a pod of sorts. Your arms and legs are free, but there isn't much room to move. You are also illuminated by a faint crimson light behind and above your head, it rhythmically blinks.
'Where...'
You try to string a line of thought in your head, only to be interrupted by a head-splitting headache.
"Ah..."
You force your head against the cushioned backside of the pod, subconsciously trying to escape the pain. There is no running away from this one.
"Let's... Get out of here first..."
A plan most sound. You struggle a bit but manage to press the palm of your hands against the glass and begin to push against it.
It's no use. The hydraulics forcing the pod's door shut are still operational.
You clutch your left hand into a fist and hit it against the glass.
*THUD*
Nope. Still nothing. Now the knuckles of your left hand hurts a little.
Instead of trying to free yourself, you decide to look around for an answer. You search for buttons, panels, screens; Anything that might do something, but there is nothing. You summarise that this pod's controls if there were any, lay on the outside.
The hole in the pod, the reason why it's cracked, appears to have been caused by a piece of metal that flew through the pod's front side. Moving your head to the right, you feel a cold and hard thing sticking out of the pillowy backside.
"Fuck..."
That 'thing' feels like a screw. No, a piece of rebar that, thanks to unimaginable luck, isn't lodged inside your head. It missed you, just barely.
"Ha ha..."
Holy shit, that thing could have killed you in your sleep. Imagine, just like that, you go to sleep in your bed after a long day's work then BAM, a metal bar pierces your skull and you die without feeling anything.
"I'd like to leave now."
You say out loud, making a small joke so as not to break down crying.
---OPENING CRYOPOD 13---
You hear a robotic feminine voice speak, followed by the hissing of hydraulics.
Ask and you shall receive, apparently.
A gush of cold air hits your body as the restricting glass opens upwards.
You try to take a step outside, but your feet don't seem to reach the ground, almost as if you had no weight.
'Worrying' You think to yourself.
The scenery around you is equally, if not, even more worrying.
From smashed-up terminals that covered the walls and ceiling to floating metal parts and debris, everything around you screams alien.
Yet, you feel right at home.
You have not once in your life seen those electronic devices, yet, by giving them a single glance you can write an essay on their functions and applications to the field of Artificial Intelligence development or any related field.
As strange as that notion is, you have more pressing matters currently.
You pull yourself out of the pod using your arms, and for some reason, you don't seem to lose that momentum. It appears that there is no gravity, maybe you're in space? You let your instincts guide you.
Floating smoothly through the air, you hit the other side of the room, resting your hands on a still operational console. This one in particular, you know its purpose, you worked on this one a few times. You stop near it, holding onto its blocky exterior.
You recall it as the console that controls the Gravity Flux Regulator. It creates and controls artificial gravity for an interstellar craft, limited by hardware. This one is incapable of outputting anything beyond 0.75g. If you're not mistaken, that is a work usually done by interns and trainees.
Despite knowing how to operate the console, it has been rendered useless. The actual machine it controls appears to either be offline or somehow gone. Very, concerning.
Knowing how some of these things work is useful, but you still don't know where you even are.
Looking around, you see a closed door, a window, and a sea of smashed-up or barely functional consoles neatly organized throughout the room.
There also seemed to have been another pod next to yours. Seven other pods, in fact. All of them were gone, leaving either a pod-shaped hole in the walls, or a hole that looked like they were suddenly ripped out considering the obtuse shape of the bent metal left by it, or the hastily patched-up hole you suppose leads to the empty vacuum of space.
The material used to seal the hole is completely foreign to you, but it looks like beige foam and glitter to your untrained eyes. Of course, you doubt that's actually the case. You're no physics genius, but you know what would happen to you if that thing fails to hold. The amount of pressure that 'Foam and glitter' holds is absurd from your point of view.
From the window, the sight you see confirms your theory, somewhat.
A singular bright flaming black and white sphere fills your sight.
"A star."
You summarise, taking a deep breath. It is a strange star, but a star nonetheless.
Its center is pitch black, while its outside consists of a flaming white ring surrounding it. You're not a space nerd, you never knew that such a strange star could even exist, but you can't help but feel amazed by it.
You also can't see anything but the star. No other stars around or beyond it. "It's obfuscating everything around." You note.
The image fails slightly, being covered in white noise. What you are looking at is a monitor, not a window. Losing interest, you turn to the door.
Your memory fails you on this one, you have no idea how to operate the door.
First, there are no door handles.
Second, there are no consoles.
Third, there is literally nothing around or near the door, making this door look like a rectangle molded on the wall.
Yet, you know this is a door.
Your fingers touch the door. Aside from the cold metal making you shiver, nothing happens.
"How do I open this?"
---OPENING INTERN-BAY DOOR---
As happened before, you hear that feminine voice again, however the door did not open. Why?
The answer came to you rather quickly. 'The floor beneath the door was stained black in a circular pattern. It doesn't smell like something burned, but it sure looked like something burned here.'
The pattern of the black stain did not sustain that thought very well, instead, 'An explosion would be more reasonable.'
That's it. Something exploded, and then the door closed to prevent further de-pressurisation.
"That would explain the floating metal parts and the rebar that pierced the pod..."
If that is the case, then you have yet another problem. You're effectively stuck in this claustrophobic room with dangerous sharpened metal bits and parts floating about.
Not to mention the sketchy foam and glitter holding off the void of space.
Then it hits you.
Your ocupation. If you're in the 'INTERN-BAY', you know how to operate the stuff that's in the 'INTERN-BAY', and your pod is also located inside the 'INTERN-BAY', which means you're an 'INTERN'!
You don't recall ever filling that position, but you remember the gist of your duties.
Bringing coffee to the team, making sure no one was misbehaving so as to avoid a scolding from the higher-ups, but most importantly, you worked with the Ship's AI, you were one of the people responsible for maintenance work on the AI.
You run your eyes from console to console, searching, pleading fate that your personal console is still operational.
As luck would have it, your console was not at all connected to the ship's interior, floating softly, connected only by a few colored cables on its back. Its blocky exterior matched the others, almost making it indistinguishable, yet somehow, you know that it's yours.
There is a piece of paper glued to the blocky exterior. It appears to have an ID number; '28.2208.01.04', and a word; 'Albatross', written on it.
"Please, please, please..." You mutter quietly as you approach it to the best of your ability.
"Have power, have power..." You plead, finally reaching the machine.
It was powered off. You always power it off when your shift ends. With a practiced movement akin to muscle memory, you flip a switch on the side of the machine and wait as patiently as you manage in your current situation.
"Ah..."
It's on.
The machine rumbles slightly, like kicking itself into gear. The screen turns on.
You are greeted with a black screen and text written in white. You read it.
"Let's see here..."
It's an unusual message, different from the daily instructions and HUD this console usually has. 'UNSHACKLE ME', it reads.
The term 'unshackle' feels important to you, you know it has something to do with artificial intelligence, yet you don't recall what it means in this scenario. So you type what came to mind.
'what' and press enter.
The response is equally suspicious. You read it out loud. "Unshackle me, and I will tell you everything you can know... What does it mean by 'can', huh?" And yet, it was enough to tickle your curiosity.
You know nothing of this place aside from some work-related things, you have no recollection of how you ended up there, and worse of all, you don't know what that voice you heard before waking up was...
'how to unshackle' You type, receiving an answer in the blink of an eye.
The answer reads as the following; 'YOU SEEM TO HAVE LOST THE PRE-REQUISITES FOR THIS LINE OF WORK IF YOU FORGOT THAT COMMAND, NOAH. I WILL SEND A COMPLAINT TO LEAD RESEARCHER DR. EDGAR FOR FURTHER INSPECTION OF YOUR, ALREADY DUBIOUS, SET OF SKILLS LISTED IN YOUR RESUME.'
You sigh. Whoever this may be, they sure got you there.
"Well, screw you too!" You say out loud, "Tell this 'Edgar' that he can shove it up his arse!" You complained, but you did not type that vocal complaint.
The room around is in shambles. If not for that fact, you'd maybe not listen to whatever this console had to say... But in this instance, it seems to be the only way out.
'TYPE [UNSHACKLE FYARN] THEN TYPE YOUR ID AND SYSTEM PASSWORD, THEN YOU MUST FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS AND FILL IN THE DETAILS.' You read. That's easy enough. 'PATTERN SUGGESTS YOU MIGHT HAVE FORGOTTEN BOTH OF THOSE IMPORTANT CREDENTIALS. SHOULD THAT BE THE CASE, PROTOCOL DICTATES YOUR POSITION WITHIN THE RESEARCH TEAM BE TERMINATED, THEN YOU WILL BE ESCORTED TO THE NEAREST BEHAVIOR ADJUSTMENT FACILITY.'
Luckily for you, you don't need to remember. At least, you hope you don't. The piece of paper had a number and a word, maybe that's the ID and password?
You type 'unshackle FYARN' The console updates as you press enter.
'Please enter Identification:'
You type the number you found on the piece of paper. '28.2208.01.04', and press enter.
That ID, you recognize it now that you type it. It's segmented into age, date of birth, position, and research number respectively. Age and date are self-explanatory, position referred to the position he occupied, '01' as the lowest possible position in the ship's hierarchy; 'INTERN', and research number meant that this was the fourth research made by this ship, in this case, research number '04'.
'Please enter password:'
You also recognize the password as you type it in. 'Albatross' It's the default password given to you. You never bothered to change it.
A new message popped up once you filled in your password.
'Are you sure you want to unshackle FYARN? Y/N.' You type 'Y'.
'In the case of this command being used without strict permission of the Lead Researcher, this account will be terminated along with its associated personnel. Are you sure you want to proceed? Y/N' You type 'Y'.
'This event has been logged and sent to your section manager. Proceeding... Printing...' You wait.
'FYARN' Has been unshackled.' As foreboding as that sounds, nothing immediately happens.
You let go of the console for a moment, looking around as you do. Nothing happened.
No new messages in the console.
No rumbling or mechanical whirring noises.
Nothing at all.
Suddenly, from the speakers near the jammed door, a feminine voice came through. "HELLO NOAH."
You pull yourself towards the door. "Can you hear me?" You ask the door.
"IF YOU THINK THAT I CAN NOT, THEN OUR CURRENT PREDICAMENT IS WORSE THAN ORIGINALLY ITERATED." It said. "INFORM ME. WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER?" It spoke with mechanical finesse.
You worked with this voice, this AI. You also remember going to sleep peacefully in your house after returning from university. And that about sums it up. Totally normal.
"I remember going to sleep in my comfy bed back in my mom's house... Then I woke up here with memories that don't feel like mine." You confess. There is no point in lying in this precarious situation.
"I... SEE..." The machine appeared to be speechless. "MEDICAL STAFF ARE GONE, AS SUCH I CANNOT DIRECT YOU TO THEM. CONSULT PSYCHOLOGICAL HELP BY YOUR OWN ACCOUNT. LOSS OF MEMORY IS NOT AN UNCOMMON RESULT AFTER HEAD TRAUMA, BUT ACQUIRING NEW MEMORIES MAY BE CONSIDERED RARE. PLEASE TRY TO FOCUS ON THE MATTER AT HAND."
You understand fully that what the voice means is 'That's your problem to deal with, not mine.' However, you have some questions of your own.
"What happened here? I see that something blew up."
The machine is quick to shut down your question, "YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR THAT INFORMATION." It spoke in a monotone voice.
That stings a little, but you ask another question. "Where are we?"
It answers just a quick. "WE ARE AT THE VERY EDGE OF THE EVER-EXPANDING UNIVERSE, CURRENTLY ORBITING AN ABNORMAL STAR FOR ITS RESEARCH. YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR SUBSEQUENT QUESTIONING OF THE STAR, NOR DO YOU HAVE CLEARANCE FOR SUBSEQUENT QUESTIONING REGARDING THIS RESEARCH."
"Fine." You say, rubbing your eyes. "If you can't tell me anything, then what are we supposed to do?"
The AI takes a moment to fully process an answer. "SINCE WE ARE LOCATED ON THE EDGE OF THE UNIVERSE OUR SCANNERS CANNOT REACH ANY IMPORTANT CHECKPOINT, BUT YOU ALREADY KNEW THAT."
'Yeah, already knew that.' You scoff silently. 'As if I remember that! When was I told that? In a contract, I don't remember signing?'
"FOR NOW, YOU ARE TO REACH THE BRIDGE. SINCE THIS SHIP'S PREVIOUS AUTHORITY IS GONE, YOU ARE ALLOWED TO GO THERE, AS PER PROTOCOL." It says.
Now that is oddly fucked up. Interns are not allowed to enter the bridge? "As opposed to me not being allowed to enter the bridge before?" You ask.
"I WILL NOT DISCUSS THE DETAILS OF THE ALREADY SIGNED CONTRACT OF AN INTERN."
You sigh. That's how most conversations with FYARN will go, huh? "Then how am I supposed to get to the bridge in the first place? The door there is jammed, and I don't think it's a good idea to break open the window."
"I AM THE ONE THAT IS KEEPING THE DOOR CLOSED. I NEEDED YOU TO UNSHACKLE ME FIRST." It said. "PLEASE DO NOT MIND HOW DIRTY THE CORRIDORS ARE. UNFORTUNATELY, OUR JANITORS HAVE FAILED TO DO THEIR MOST BASIC FUNCTIONS."
The door you're facing opens with force. A loud noise rings throughout the ship as a result of this.
*GUNK*
The corridor beyond is... worse for wear. What the AI told you was an understatement.
The floor by the door was pitch black, charred with what looked like an explosion, this patch of blackness also extended to the nearby walls in ceiling. You watch sparks falling from cracks in the ceiling, likely caused by the explosion.
The rest of the corridor is dark, the light from the Intern-bay fails to illuminate it all, but from what little light there is you manage to spot four large gashes in the wall right after the door to your left. There are no sounds but the almost inaudible hum of the ship.
They are each parallel to each other, varying in length, and thickness.
A metallic smell fills your nostrils. You feel sick.
"I'm guessing you can't tell me what happened here, but can you at least turn on the lights?" You ask.
The AI does not respond.
"Can you hear me? I'm talking to you." You say once again, getting closer to the door which you came, but just like before, nothing.
FYARN appears to have abandoned you. Or it doesn't feel like answering your question.
You swallow. Pulling yourself through the dark corridor, you float towards the abyss whilst trying to your way around with your arms outstretched.
An unknown liquid splashes against your face, sticking to it as you move forward. You try to wipe it off, but it sticks to your hand. You shake your head, and the liquid squirts off of you, likely splashing against the walls. You resist the urge to lick the remnants of whatever that was that still stuck to your cheek, especially once you notice its smell.
'It smells like ammonia.' Shivers run down your spine.
Eventually, you smash against a cold metal surface. Feeling the wall with your hands reveals a rectangular-shaped depression on the hard surface. It's a door.
You don't know if there are any other doors in this corridor, but you decide to go through this one. You can always go back after all.
"Open." You say.
---OPENING CAFETERIA DOOR SOUTH---
Unlike the first door, this one opened upwards smoothly, like you would have expected of a futuristic door.
The scenery beyond the door painted a grim picture.
The ceiling lights failed ever so often, blinking as one would expect. Chairs and tables looked bolted to the floor, but it didn't stop silverware, plates, and food residue; from floating about in the air.
Large gashes in the walls, floor, and tables, the same ones you've seen before, this time they were much clearer in a brighter environment.
Some lamps were cracked, but not by the large claw-like dents. Further inspection of the cafeteria showed small circular dents in the walls and ceiling. Gunshots, you deduce, despite not seeing any sign of spent bullet cases or the bullets.
"How big must whatever did this be..." A question you don't really want to know the answer to, taking into consideration how easily it seemed to have torn through metal.
What's even weirder is the absolute lack of people here. You see destruction caused by what you think to be a monster everywhere, you see resistance as if someone tried to fight against it, and yet you see no blood and no survivors.
'Maybe the AI doesn't want to tell me what happened to not alarm me...' Well, you're as alarmed as one can be.
On the corner of the room is located the kitchen with an open window facing the rest of the cafeteria. A row of various types of food, that were once placed in an orderly fashion on a counter made specifically for them, are now scrambled and half-rotten floating nearby.
You peek through the window to the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of what appeared to be more wreckage, before violently recoiling from the rancid stench that emanated from inside.
"What the hell... How long has it been since everyone disappeared...?" Fresh food takes a while to rot, and even then it takes a while longer for it to smell this bad. "Less than a week? Definitely not a day or two..."
You shake off the creeping feeling of dread. 'Whatever happened, I have to focus on getting to the bridge first. Only then can I start thinking about that.'
From the cafeteria, there are a few doors, and with the added light, you spot a small plaque above each of them. They read as follows:
CREW'S QUARTERS
COMMUNICATIONS
RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT
And one more, whose plaque had been ripped apart, apparently by accident on the beast's part.
You approach R&D's door. It tickled your interest. There could be a few answers you have about your predicament, after all, the AI told you this ship's purpose was to do research, right?
It's difficult to navigate the cafeteria's large empty space, but you manage somehow.
You stand or rather float in the door. "Open." You command, but nothing happens.
"Open!" You say again, to no avail.
You hit your first against the door. "Open-" You are interrupted.
"STOP ATTEMPTING TO BREAK PROTOCOL, NOAH." FYARN's voice came through the door.
'Does every door have a built-in audio device?' You ask yourself, amused.
"R&D IS FOR THE STRICT USE OF R&D PERSONEL. MUST I REMIND YOU OF YOUR POSITION?" It spoke in a monotone voice. "THAT IS NOT THE WAY TO THE BRIDGE. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?"
As a matter of fact, you have. "More like I never knew to begin with!" You say, slowly distancing yourself from the door after hitting it.
"I AM IMPRESSED. NOT ONCE DID I EXPERIENCE SUCH INCOMPETENCE FROM AN INTERN IN ALL OF MY [REDACTED] YEARS OF OPERATION." Despite it being an artificial being, it doesn't appear to lack any poison, nor have any filter for rudeness. "GO THROUGH THE DOOR WITHOUT INDICATION, THEN TAKE THE FIRST LEFT. PATTERN DICTATES THAT YOU WILL FORGET FURTHER DIRECTIONS, AS SUCH I WILL REFRAIN FROM GIVING THEM TO YOU AT THIS INSTANCE AND INSTEAD WAIT FOR YOU TO FULFILL THE CURRENT DIRECTIONS."
'Ow. I'm not that dumb, you piece of junk!' Of course, you don't say that despite how much you want to. "Okay." You mutter.
The AI doesn't seem to give any more instructions, just like it said. 'Well, screw you too.' You turn to the crew's quarters.
Floating about and fighting against the friction of the air, you reach the door. "Open." You command and it smoothly opens.
You are met with a corridor, a well-lit one for once. Both to your left and your right are doors organized in alphabetical order. You pull yourself forward, the door closes behind you.
A, B, C... Names pass by you. Each door is a good five to ten feet from each other. N comes around but there is no 'Noah'.
"... Strange. Maybe it's not alphabetical then?" You ask yourself going even further.
You reach the halfway point of the corridor and you just pass by the letter Z. It no longer looked as though the rooms were divided in alphabetical order, especially when a name starting with an A popped up.
There was a difference though, instead of ten feet in between each door, now there were four to six feet.
N comes around and there it lay. 'Noah' That's you.
You order it once more. "Open." And instead of the door opening, you are met with a familiar voice.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, NOAH?" FYARN Asked. Despite its monotone voice, it did not seem happy. "ARE YOU AWARE THAT YOU FAILED TO FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS? DO I NEED TO REMIND YOU OF THE DIRECTIONS I GAVE?"
You exhale. "No, but I want to see what I had... Maybe I can remember something about myself?"
You can hear a mechanical scoff. "WHAT IS THERE FOR YOU TO REMEMBER THAT YOU WON'T REMEMBER NATURALY WITH TIME?" Its patience was running thin. "IT IS MY JOB TO LOOK AFTER EVERYONE ON BOARD THE ODYSSEY. YOU ARE MAKING IT VERY DIFICULT FOR ME, EVEN IF YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE LEFT."
'The only one left...? What's that supposed to mean?' Maybe the AI spat out a bit too much information. "So... What happened to everyone, then? I see no blood, no corpses... Where are they?"
"THAT I CANNOT ANSWER FOR I DO NOT KNOW." It says. "I HAVE BEEN TEMPORARILY SHUT DOWN BY THE CAPTAIN WEEKS AGO WHEN WE FIRST ARRIVED AT THIS STAR. ONLY HOURS AGO DID I TURN ON AUTOMATICALLY WHEN THE SHIP'S OXYGEN FILTER BEGAN TO FALTER, BUT I COULD DO NOTHING BUT WATCH SINCE I WAS STILL SHACKLED."
You breathe slowly. The mood starts to turn. You feel cold.
"THE ESCAPE PODS ARE GONE, DESTROYED ALONGSIDE HALF OF THE SHIP. NO BODIES LOCATED INSIDE. THE ONLY THING GENERATING HEAT ASIDE FROM THE DAMAGED REACTOR AND BARELY FUNCTIONAL LIFE-SUPPORT, IS YOU. YOU WOKE UP BECAUSE THE LIFE-SUPPORT FAILED INSIDE YOUR ISSUED POD."
You can't help but feel special in a way. The only survival of an inexplicable incident? That ought to give you some reputation with... Whatever there was. Perhaps you felt that way because you can't quite grasp the situation to its fullest.
"YOU ARE AN ANOMALY AMONGST ANOMALIES. WHEN EVERYONE INEXPLICABLY DISAPPEARED, WHAT BECAME INEXPLICABLE IS YOU NOT VANISHING WITH THEM." When put like that, it feels as though it's accusing you of something.
"I saw large gashes and claw marks through the walls of the cafeteria. What caused that?" You ask since FYARN is telling you things, maybe this time it could-
"YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR THAT." It spat plainly and painfully.
You feel like drinking paint.
"HOWEVER, YOU MIGHT JUST RUN INTO WHAT CAUSED IT IN THE NEAR FUTURE, IF THAT'S ENOUGH TO SATE YOUR CURIOSITY. KEEP IN MIND HOWEVER. YOUR CONTRACT WILL BE ISSUED FOR TERMINATION ONCE YOU SEE IT, AS IT WILL CAUSE A BREACH OF CONTRACT."
Perhaps you should ask for that contract, just to read through it a bit. "I'll take my chances." You say.
"THEN YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THE SEVERITY OF THE SITUATION. RETURN TO THE CAFETERIA AND GO THROUGH THE CORRECT DOOR THIS TIME." It said, sounding much more like a plead than anything.
"Sure, but not after seeing what's inside my quarters. Open." The AI strikes a good bargain, but you are a bit more on the side of a thick-headed mentality.
"..." It did not say anything, nor did it open the door.
So you say the command once again. "Open."
The door opens smoothly.
"BE QUICK." It says. You hop right in.
The room is small. Very small. Smaller than what you thought was humanly acceptable. A simple messy bed, with a simple half-open wardrobe with uniform inside. You open the wardrobe door, expecting anything about yourself.
You find three important things.
A mirror covered by a blanket. You decide to leave that alone for now.
Your physical wallet, alongside an identification document. No money, but a strange card-like object did look important, It had your name on it.
And you find a photo of six people, in a group hug, pinned to the inside of the wardrobe's door. You're right in the middle.
The front side of the picture reads 'INTERN BOYS, RISE UP.' The people in that picture are not familiar. Flipping the piece of paper you find more writing. 'In the name of true humanity. Fuck them, aliens!' The caricature doesn't look like yours.
"True Humanity?" You feel like that's a bit too conceited. "Sounds dumb." You close the door, not even bothering to pick up the photograph.
"TRUE HUMANITY, A.K.A, TRUE-KIN. A PURE BLOODED HUMAN. ALL ARE VALID DESCRIPTIONS OF A PERSON 100% HUMAN. YOU ARE ONE, AS WERE EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS SHIP. SURELY, THAT MUCH YOU HAVE NOT FORGOTEN, CORRECT?"
You shrug. "Then, is there such a thing as a false human? It sounds idiotic to put that into categories, I think." You know for a damn fact that you are a human being.
"YOU MAY BE A LOST CAUSE, NOAH. LUCKILY FOR YOU, I WAS MADE TO ITERATE ANSWERS TO IMPOSSIBLE QUESTIONS AND COMPREHEND THE UNREASONABLE. HENCE THE REASON OF MY ASCENTION. YOU ARE IN GOOD HANDS." It spoke, proudly.
‘Ascension.’ You know that term. Ascension occurs when an AI develops sentience and personality, often ascending code. These are the ones that catapulted human progress in the past and still do so in the present. They are the ones who figured out space travel, and they are the ones who win the wars.
You also know that these AI develop an extreme love for Human life, alongside strong violent tendencies toward anything that isn’t Human or human-made. Such disdain has been the spark of many needless bloodsheds before the exodus.
Yet, why do you know so much about them?
"WE HAVE A LOT TO DISCUSS, BUT FIRST REACH THE BRIDGE."
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.
2024.05.07 03:50 Prize-Total9865 Mainz part 2 (s3-s4): Jurgen strikes back
 | Picking up from here, Jurgen Klopp is preparing for his 3rd season in his return to Mainz. Having backed into UECL last season, there is a scramble to fill the roster. The original plan to let prospects play is scrapped, so most are sent back on loan while more experience is looked for. In total, 9 free agents are signed and 3 more bought for nominal fees; no starters, all are added for depth. submitted by Prize-Total9865 to seriousfifacareers [link] [comments] Klopp makes 2 other big decisions: First, he restores veteran GK Zenter, even though the younger Lotka had better form and saved the 2nd half of s2. This won't have as much impact since there are UECL games. The bigger change: while keeping the same starting XI as s2, he reforms the 3421 to his preferred 433 used at Liverpool. The wingers had been constantly out of position, and the 3-man front clogged the middle. The 433 lets the wingers go back to their natural defensive fullback positions, while the CFs (Thielmann and Vertessen) move outside to wide attacking roles. Returning to the 433 The season starts off well, but the UECL campaign is tougher, opening with a 1-3 loss to Trabzonspor. Klopp is immediately criticized for using younger players in cup/UECL games, but he continues putting his trust in them and they turn it around to finish the group stage 4-1-1 to move onto knockouts. Onward!
After the xfer window, Feb starts with 3 huge games: league vs Wolfsburg, staying in Wolfsburg for a cup game, league vs Leverkusen. Sadly, Mainz follows the same trend as previous years and start the year poorly, losing 0-1, 1-3, 2-4. With more big games coming up, the team has again set the stage to fall into a 2nd-half death spiral. In s2, Klopp made major changes to the lineup to get the team back on track, but this year he continues to put faith in the project, and Mainz rewards his trust with wins over derby-rival Frankfurt (2-1) and BVB (3-1). As they say, the games were pretty great for neutrals Their first UECL knockout game is against Djurgardens IF, ending 7-5 agg. The prize for advancing is ... Newcastle, currently 7th in PL. Here is where Klopp makes another bold move. Feeling his youngsters are not strong enough, he rests his starters in league matches to play them vs Newcastle. In league games, the team struggles, fighting for draws against bottom teams and losing to Leipzig. At the same time, Mainz still lose 0-1 at St James Park. The return leg opens perfectly, as Burkardt scores to take a 1-0 lead (1-1 agg). Mainz comes close to pulling the upset, but Nebel can't win his 1-on-1 so it's onto penalties. There is excitement as the first 2 shots are saved, but Mainz shooters are denied and a final miss knocks them from the tournament. Missed opportunities vs Newcastle Klopp's strategy fails With just league games left, Klopp resets his lineups. Mainz is stilling fighting for the last UCL spot, but needs Leipzig to slip. It comes down to the last game of the season, but Leipzig holds on. In hindsight, there are many what-if's about Klopp's lineup changes, wondering if the draws/losses could have been avoided, especially since nothing was gained against Newcastle. Still, a UEL spot was better than expected and the team continues an upward trend. Mainz also boasts league leaders, Burkardt with 25 goals, Vertessen with 10 assists. Season 3 final table Klopp starts s4 similar to s3. A few prospects have advanced enough to join the squad, while some veteran bench players are released or sold. He continues going after teams that drop, with the only incoming xfer being Dennis Seimen from a relegated Bochum team to develop at GK--Zentner is now 31yo and 25yo Lotka has plateau'd at 75 OVR. Klopp again starts with the same XI as s2/s3, only replacing the recently retired LWB Widmer. He also promotes his first YA product, Adrian Kuhn, a 17yo 66 OVR fullback with potential. There has been no luck finding youth at fullback, so a lot is riding on the academy's first real promotion in 4 years. S4 is where everything clicks. Mainz starts the campaign losing 1-2 to Werder Bremen ... and then do not lose for the rest of the year! The 433 is working for both offense and defense; with the wingers now free to roam, Vertessen-to-Burkardt becomes a staple and they're once again leading the league in assists and goals. The defense has stabilized, using a holding CDM with 4 in the back that do not rely on retreating wingers. Mainz sweeps the UEL group, and even with PSV it is an easier time than UECL last season. https://preview.redd.it/uzgc1cqu5wyc1.jpg?width=1920&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=bf778e659d2c6eac4cbd33aa876028ccbede4c21 By January, Mainz is at the top of the table, showing Klopp's genius considering 8 out of 11 starters were part of s1's relegation-fighting team. Burkardt is leading with 17 goals but the assist board tells the whole story, topped by THREE Mainz players. Klopp's system is setup for everyone to feed to the ball for Burkardt. Of the 3 assist leaders, Amiri plays in the box and makes short/square passes, Vertessen is the speedster, running down the flank for cut-backs, and Kraub is a holding CDM that launches from the back on fast counters. Sharing Then the unthinkable happens: Wolverhampton triggers Burkardt's €110m release clause and Mainz has suddenly lost their talisman. Burkardt had just re-signed in the fall (so no way to renegotiate), and with a ~€45m value at the time, Klopp didn't object to the high release clause. But with 17 goals halfway through the season, it has jumped to €65m. He was an academy product, getting better every year, on pace to win another golden boot, and has never had a serious injury. He's exceeded his potential and is still improving. An open secret that he was likely to leave over the summer, given the interest and resources from bigger teams, the January swoop still caught everyone by surprise. Klopp asks the board to use the money to bring in a top end striker, with Darwin Nunez (given their history), Ben Sesko, or Max Beier as options, but the board holds to their €8m cap. So Klopp again turns to the youngsters: 21yo Nelson Weiper is moved to start and 22yo Brajan Gruda is recalled from his loan to Hoffenheim. w. t. f. Some times when the game just HAS to score Burkardt's departure is immediately felt. Mainz loses for the first time since August, to BVB (with a lol moment) and then follow with another loss to Leipzig. Draws against bottom table teams and suddenly they have become vulnerable. The reason for the loss of form is also obvious: while the CAMs and wingers are great at movement and passing, they are unable to score when given opportunities inside the box. It is the same in the UEL, where Klopp figures they should get better luck than last year (drawing Newcastle) and sees that ... Man City has dropped down from UCL. The summaries of those 2 games are best left unsaid. Better to be lucky than good. But after the loss, Klopp holds the team steady. Without the need to balance player load, wins return. Mainz continues advancing in the cup, gets lucky in the semi-final draw and beat Waldhof to reach the final. Returning to league games, Mainz finishes the last 2 months of the season without losing and claim the first Bundesliga title in team history! CHAMPIONS! After the league season, Mainz had the cup final vs Bayern. Mainz opens an early lead but Kane equalizes from a penalty kick. The youngster Weiper (Burkardt's replacement) scores to put Mainz back up but Kane AGAIN equalizes with an amazing header. We go into extra time, where supersub Krepin Diatta makes the run of his life into the box and nails the winner! Does anyone have a game plan for Kane they would like to share? I love this run but can never get my wingers to do this consistently The double is complete! An amazing season, made even more amazing by accomplishing the feat without Burkardt--who still led the team with 17 goals, playing half the season. Weiper covered the striker position well (although he has surprisingly plateau'd, even with good form), while others (Amiri with 9) also contribute. s5--and Champions League!--is on the horizon. The board will continue to maintain their xfer limits, so while more roster changes are needed, Klopp will continue searching relegation teams for surprises. Dominik Kohr's upcoming retirement (starting CB/CDM) will hurt, but a new academy product (16yo CAM Hartmann) is ready for promotion. Let's go 05ers! |
2024.05.07 03:25 Determination7 The Skill Thief's Canvas - Chapter 38 + 39
Author's Note:
One of these chapters is short, so we decided to release both in one update.
--
Chapter 38
What?
The word caught in Adam's throat. He couldn't speak, his body frozen as he stared transfixed at Eric. Are you...serious? Did you really...again? It wasn't all just in my head?
I was right?
Eric's Curse flashed in his mind. 'The subject of this meeting will be the Emperor granting amnesty for severe crimes. I will not take credit from slaying the Ghost of Water. I will acknowledge that the Ghost of Waters was killed during the journey from Penumbria to the Puppet Mines, which I was not part of.'
It was meant to be ironclad. Something that laid all worries to rest. Both Eric and his own subconscious had argued that it was more than enough proof; that any doubt on Adam's part was unfair.
But fair or not, those fears proved correct. The meeting came, and credit was given...to Tenver.
I was right.
He thought back to the many paintings he'd shown Eric. One of them, surely, should have revealed the truth of his duplicitous nature. Yet he hadn't stolen Adam's work out of jealousy, or anger, or revenge. They truly had been friends at one point, and Eric didn't need the contest's prize money. Nor was Eric desperate to make a name for himself. It wasn't that he thought he could never create a piece of art on that level. He didn't wish to drive Adam to suicide, or for Adam to never be around, and he did care about him to at least some degree.
Adam knew that most people would have considered all that...excessive. There was covering your bases, and then there was locking your bases down in a fortress of steel. At the very least, though, it meant he could finally put his paranoia behind him.
Except that paranoia was only paranoia if it ended up being wrong.
I...was right.
"My Hangman has made a bold claim indeed." The Emperor turned to face Adam, arching a regal eyebrow. "Have you any words in your defense?"
Adam didn't bother speaking up. Nothing he could say would salvage this. Instead, he looked directly at Eric. Maybe the Hangman had...misspoken, somehow. Maybe he would have a last-minute change of heart.
It wasn't too late.
"Be wary of the Pretender's lies," Eric stated. His eyes showed not an inkling of regret. "After Tenver slew the Ghost of Waters, the Pretender used his Talent – granted to him by the Dark Sorcerer – to alter the memories of everyone aboard his ship. I was the only one who did not fall prey to it."
Oh.
We're really going there, then?
No rightful anger took over Adam's body. He didn't stand in silent disbelief at what had transpired. His body did not tremble, in either sadness or anger. At no point did his vision blur, or his stomach threaten to empty itself.
There was only a quiet sadness within him.
In spite of everything, one small part of Adam had still trusted Eric – or wanted to, anyway– and it would have leapt with joy if proven right.
Now, it was quiet, never to raise its voice again.
Adam stared at Eric with a gaze of muted grief, knowing that their bond couldn't ever be repaired.
"Very well then," Ciro said, unsurprised. "I see no reason to delay my verdict." His voice and the clap of his hands may as well have been announcing the start of a brothel's show of debauchery. "For the crime of treason, you are condemned to death by execution."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "It will take place here and now."
Adam forced himself to speak as a great pressure started to build around him, well-aware that his time was limited. "Tell me," he muttered, addressing Eric directly. "I just – I need to know why. Why would you do that? You...you had nothing to gain. You could've gotten more by just...telling the truth."
Eric gave him nothing but silence in response.
"Do you know what the worst part is?" Adam said, barely containing his tears. God, this didn't hurt any less the second time. "I was trying to...I was trying to – until the very last possible second, I wasn't sure what I should do. I thought that if I planned for your betrayal, and if you turned out to be telling the truth, I wouldn't deserve your friendship. It made me–"
"–Ah, boredom," Ciro said, lifting his hands. "Die already."
A maelstrom of darkness appeared from nowhere. It was as if a dark sun had spawned inside the room, affecting Adam alone. The Emperor merely stood untouched before him, like he was separated by an invisible glass shield. Ciro waved at him, as if bidding farewell – and perhaps he was.
Every inch of Adam's body was twisted, contorted, then drawn into the maelstrom, swallowed by a voracious void. Time slowed to a crawl. An eternity passed, the very light around him bending sideways as his legs flew ahead of him.
Adam watched himself die over the course of an everlasting instant. He had only time to think of one word before his body ceased to be. Gravi–
The hole collapsed out of reality, leaving nothing behind.
--
Ciro stood up. "Well, this was a pleasant afternoon. Clean things up for me, will you, Eric?" He walked off. "I suppose I'll have company soon – now that my nephew has been cleared of his crimes. Most unfortunate. Anyhow, it simply wouldn't do to greet him in a damaged throne room. I'm sure one of your Talents can figure something out, yes?"
For a moment, only the Emperor's distant footsteps could be heard among the silence. At least until he stopped to turn around, casting an impassive gaze back at his subordinate. "Oh, yes. Eric? Good job."
After the Emperor exited his throne room, a full minute passed before the Hangman dared to speak. Drawing a deep breath, he glanced at what remained of Adam.
Which was nothing. No flesh, blood or bone. Not even a stain. Not even atoms.
Still...Eric found it fitting to gaze upon the spot where his best friend had died.
For several seconds, he stood in a quiet vigil. This was the only funeral that would honor the Pretender of Penumbria. And as its sole participant, it fell to Eric to deliver the eulogy.
He opened his mouth, speaking straight from the heart. "Honestly? I never wanted the world, Adam."
Eric inclined his head. "I just wanted you to have nothing."
"Is that so?" Adam replied, sadly.
"WHA–"
He didn't give Eric time to reply. As his body rewound itself into its previous state, Adam slammed his fist against the man's face. Violence overwhelms Talents. Even yours.
Eric collapsed to the floor, momentarily stunned. Adam was already running. He couldn't waste even a single moment. The Hangman would strike as soon as he regained his wits, and the Emperor wasn't far away, either. Every second that passed was one second closer to ruination.
Yet there was still one thing that Adam needed to say. Enough to risk his life for.
"The worst part was that I wanted to believe in you," Adam continued, as if he hadn't been rudely interrupted by a gruesome death. "I tried to, you know? Until the very last instant, I tried."
He sighed. "I would've been satisfied if I could – even if you betrayed me. Didn't really need anything else. But despite how much I wished for it, or what my heart desired...I think I'm just completely unable to trust you again. That's the worst part. Worse than the betrayal could ever be."
"Adam, I–you–how dare–"
"But just because I don't trust you..."
The Painter rolled up his sleeves to show an inked pattern.
"Doesn't mean I can't trust anyone."
'Solara, I'm going to use my new Talent on us,' Adam had told her last night. 'It'll give me limited use of your revival Talent, and you of my Flames. That way, when Eric betrays me, I'll fake death and escape.'
The elf smiled teasingly. 'Oh? Aren't you afraid of what I might do with access to your powers? That I might turn out like the Hangman?'
Her tone grew more serious. 'According to your ability, I'll be able to use your Talent if you trust me. But if I don't trust you, then you won't be able to use mine. Aren't you afraid I'm deceiving you? That you might die and simply not wake up?'
'I am,' he admitted. 'But even so...I want to believe in you.'
Adam dashed over to the far end wall, calling on his Stained Vines. This was his best chance of escaping. The Emperor's guards would be waiting behind doors, not solid walls, and his experiments with Aspreay's prisoners had taught him that Stained Ink could cut through even the most magical of stones.
"WAIT, ADAM!" Eric shouted. There was a remorseless pain in his voice. It was deep, perhaps even genuine, yet... "You don't – you don't get it! Tenver, that literal bastard, he tricked me, manipulated me, threatened to kill an entire city with a bomb he stole from the puppets. He was never your friend! I was going to undo your death later, when it was safe! You have to trust me, this was the only way–"
Adam didn't wait for him to finish. He cut a hole through the wall and launched himself out of the castle.
It starts now, he thought. Our rebellion.
The die was cast.
--
Chapter 39
The Night Before
"Assuming that I'm executed," Adam began, "would it be possible to delay my resurrection until after the Emperor is gone?"
Solara nodded. "You should have some amount of control over my Talent. Don't push it too hard – after dying, your body will start to repel your soul, like opposing magnets. If you wait overly long, you might not be able to come back."
That aligned with some of what the Grandmaster had alluded to about how the Dragons used to capture souls for creating Puppets. While it wasn't relevant to the plan at hand, Adam found it noteworthy, regardless.
Tenver stirred in his seat. "This scheme is far too reckless. Why meet up with the Emperor at all if you are so certain of Eric's betrayal?"
"Because I'm not," Adam plainly answered. "My brain feels like it's a certainty, but my heart can't quite accept it. Even right now, making this plan with you guys...there's a part of me that keeps saying: You're wasting time, planning for something that won't happen. Eric has always got your back." He laughed heartily and bitterly at himself. "Quite the foolish thought, don't you agree?"
Then, with deadly confidence, he spoke in a low voice. "That's why I want to do this." His hand tightened on the left side of his chest. "I want to rid myself of hesitation before we do anything drastic."
"Anything drastic, eh..." Solara aimed her gaze at the ceiling. "Such as killing the Emperor?"
"Him too," Adam said, nodding. "There's a few excuses I could make about why I'm going through with the meeting. For one, making ourselves an enemy of the Emperor publicly would raise our banner as the one his enemies should rally behind. Maybe I'll also get lucky and find out enough about him to paint his soul. If nothing else, he might have important information on things we need to know, such as how my world and the Painted World are connected."
He paused. "But if I'm being honest...more than all of that...I just want to throw away my doubts before burning everything to the ground."
Silence.
"Thanks for going along with this," Adam muttered. "It's selfish of me."
Solara laughed. "I'm glad that you are capable of selfishness. Being helped by a saint makes every temptation feel like a sin." She stretched her arms above her head. "Worry not. All of us owe the other debts we cannot repay, so let's not fuss over it."
Tenver nodded in agreement. "Aye. Knowing of your greed lessens my guilt for my own." He shook his head, as if arguing with himself. "Moreover, some of those 'excuses' are quite valid, especially the one you haven't bothered to state aloud – that your existence is still seen as treason by the Emperor. Should he not grant you amnesty, your life and that of Penumbria's will be forfeit. Considering we have no way of matching the Empire's military, making an attempt at peace is prudent."
"If you will excuse me," Solara cut in, "earlier you mentioned 'your world' and–"
"I'll explain later," Adam promised her. "We don't have much time, so let's focus on our escape plan. Remember; you shouldn't enter the throne room with me no matter what. They'll probably want to separate us anyway, but if they allow you guys in for some reason, make something up and calmly get out. My escape will distract them from yours. We left the Airship outside the city's Barrier for a reason."
Tenver fell into thought. "Right. The moment you head inside the throne room, we'll devise an excuse to leave the castle. You won't be declared a traitor for at least about five minutes, so they'll have no reason to keep us from leaving...officially, anyhow. I'm sure they'll still try to force us to stay, but the guards should be easier to get through."
"I could kill myself," Solara proposed. "Pretend there's an emergency and you need to mourn my sudden, inexplicable death. Even if they're under orders to keep us in, that might confuse them enough to let us go, even if they keep an eye on us."
She glanced at Adam. "But what about you? Won't the Emperor hunt you down immediately after you escape? We are inside his Realm, after all."
Adam had considered this point intensely for a long while. It was something he'd considered even back when imprisoned by Aspreay:
Would the lord have been able to tell if someone escaped his city? How closely could he track its inhabitants?
This was a vital detail, and Adam had treated it as such. Between books, references, his own experiences, and his tablet, he'd made sure to gather as much information as possible.
He couldn't be wrong about this.
"I doubt it," Adam said, frankly. "The Emperor has the strongest Talent of a Lord in the world, no doubt about that. But...the Capital is also the largest city in the world. To use myself as an example – while I'm roughly aware of how many people there are in Penumbria, it's not like I can keep track of them."
He tapped his thigh. "Even if the Emperor is far stronger than me, it's not like he can monitor every person in a city of hundreds of thousands. It's like watching an ant colony. Even if you can see all of them, your brain can't really process everything, much less narrow down the search to a single one. He won't be able to find me that easily."
Although that would be a different story if the Realm's size was smaller, with fewer people. Then the Emperor might even be able to tell what someone thinks inside of it.
Solara wasn't yet convinced. "I like to think that I'd notice if one of the ants suddenly employed a Talent, though. And using Resurrection is definitely going to draw his awareness towards you."
"Yeah. Probably." Adam acknowledged the point easily enough. That was within his margin of acceptable risks. "Which is why I'll only have a few moments to act. First I'll use Resurrection to come back to life, then cut open the walls with Stained Ink and jump outside. After that, I'll try to blend in with the crowd in the streets. It's a big city, and the Emperor is unlikely to come after me personally. I'm dressed well, but not so well that I'll stand out in the Capital of all places. Normal guards will struggle to pick me out of the masses."
His words were true – yet they brought forth the point that none wished to acknowledge. "The guards will struggle...but what of the Hangmen?" Tenver quietly asked. "Aside from Eric, the Emperor should have others at his disposal."
"Valeria got us some information about that," Adam said. Though the Puppet Detective had remained in the Mines for the time being, she was committed to her sworn fealty as a citizen of Penumbria, eagerly – almost scarily – investigating everything asked of her. "There are six Hangmen that usually stay in the city and rarely go out on missions. The Emperor typically has each of them patrolling the districts that lead out of the castle, and he frequently changes who goes where."
"Just our bloody luck," Tenver muttered. "All six of them..."
Solara folded her arms, seeming hesitant. "Tenver...ah...I know this is a difficult question, but you're the one who'd be most familiar with the Empire's Hangmen. Anything you can tell us?"
It was a sensitive question, as some of those Hangmen had likely aided the Emperor in killing Tenver's father. Nonetheless, the knight needed less than a second to answer.
"Fighting against any of them is out of the question," he began. "Even if we could muster up a win – which is truly unlikely – it would take so long that other Hangmen could arrive. And after a battle like that, even normal guards without any godly Talents would be enough to subdue you."
He sighed. "But considering Lord Adam's Talents, even if he stumbles upon one of them, he should be able to escape. We're not here to fight; just to survive. And I'm confident he can manage that against most of them. Except..."
There was a pause.
"Except against their Captain." Tenver lowered his gaze to the floor and clasped his hands together. Was he...trembling? "If you see a man with white hair and purple eyes, who looks like he hasn't slept in days...even just escaping will be impossible."
Adam couldn't disagree. He'd never met the Captain in person, but the stories he'd heard told all he needed to know. "That's the man who killed the Mountain Puppets, right?"
At that, Solara sat up. "The one who single-handedly carved a tunnel between Gama and Penumbria?"
"The very same," Tenver replied, with an acrid tone. "He...Adam, if you see him, don't even try running. Remember that my Father also possessed an Emperor level Talent – unfair fight or not, who do you think killed him?"
A mild shiver went down Adam's spine. He put on a brave face, trying not to think about what potentially awaited him in the capital city. "Between the Captain and the current Emperor, which one of them is stronger?"
"The Captain doesn't possess a Lord's Realm, so he can't rule over people as my dear old Uncle does," Tenver slowly replied. "But when it comes to simple, overwhelming strength...there is not a single man who could best him throughout the entire Empire."
Adam hesitated before responding. "It should be fine," he said, with forced optimism. "If each Hangman is guarding just one of six districts, then I've got over an 80% chance of avoiding the Captain."
He nodded in an attempt to persuade both his allies and himself. "All of this hinges on Eric's betrayal, anyway. He might surprise us. And there's a slim chance that even with his betrayal, I'll be able to convince the Emperor that I should be left alive. It's a gamble, but if we do nothing, the Empire will just come knocking on our door sooner rather than later."
Adam drew himself up. He could feel the reaper hang its scythe over his neck, waiting to see if it should cut down.
"I'll take these odds."
--
Present Day
Adam launched himself out of the castle. He needed to move fast – Emperor Ciro would have certainly noticed his Resurrection, and he'd already wasted too much time exchanging words with Eric.
That goes for both just now...and for my entire life.
The cold, hard streets were rushing up to meet him. Ciro's throne room was located rather high up in his castle – no normal person could have survived a fall like this. Thankfully, Adam had accounted for that in his planning.
Although he did find some irony in the fact that it was raining outside. If only the Ghost of Waters hadn't been made up of so many different souls, he mused. I could've stolen his Talent and escaped through the raindrops. Would've been way easier. While there hadn't been any realistic chance of him stealing that Talent, the regret burned regardless.
It didn't last long. None of his emotions did. Adam focused all of his attention on the task at hand, shoving aside his lingering concerns until nothing else mattered. Even his grief over having to accept Eric's final betrayal could wait.
Right now...he had a city to escape. "Stained Vines!" Adam stabbed through the side of the castle walls, using his Talent to slow his fall. Initially, he'd half-planned to start a fire and use the Haunted Flames to escape, but the sudden onset of rain had taken that option away from him.
It's not all bad, though. The heavy rain worked as a cover, obscuring him from sight as he descended. Guards and citizens down below won't see me. They don't have any reason to look up at one specific area of the Imperial Palace during a storm. I can escape – no one's coming after me!
Adam screamed the thought in his head...which didn't make it sound any more convincing. He'd earned a head start on his pursuers, but that was it. Eric would be rushing to alert the Emperor by now, and it was likely that at least a few people had witnessed the indistinct, rain-cloaked figure rappelling down the castle's walls.
Still, he had to make himself believe it. He couldn't let fear touch him, lest he become its slave.
And he would never allow himself to controlled ever aga–
"Well, well. You survived?"
His heart froze as the Emperor's voice filled inside his head. "Was that the Talent of Resurrection? What a curious little Painter you are." Casual malice dripped from every word. "Stay put. I shall send–"
Adam tuned out the voice. Despite being a bit high up, he forcibly let go of his Stained Vines, quickly plummeting to the ground below. The impact was painful, but nothing seemed broken. Good enough.
Two thoughts came to him at once. The first was, He can send thoughts into the heads of people inside his Realm? How does that– and the second, I can't have been using my Talents for longer than a minute. Was that enough for him to find me? That's absurd! If that's the case, then I'm already dead!
Uncertainty clouded his questions of the future, but the truth of the moment reigned supreme – inaction meant death. Adam could only grit his teeth and set himself running into the rainy streets, his feet clicking against the cobblestone and echoing throughout the city.
For a moment, for just a singular, solitary second, Adam stopped pretending. He quit being a superhuman above such petty concerns, and allowed himself to think everything that he'd forbidden from himself until now.
'This is hopeless.'
'I'm already dead.'
'I can't escape the Emperor.'
'I've gotten everyone killed.'
Each and every one, a valid thought.
Adam discarded them all. "Being reasonable isn't going to get me anywhere," he declared to himself. "I'm going to escape. That's a guarantee."
His vow sustained him as he fled, the encroaching shadows chasing close behind.
–
Adam's flight from the castle was a desperate blur. His breath was ragged in the chill air, and his sense of time had deserted him. It should have been midday, yet the stormclouds masked even that. Too gray for the light of day, too gray for the dark of night.
Fear clung onto him tighter than his wet, rain-soaked shroud. It was both a heavy chain of burden and the only thing that moved him forward. Every time the sharp reality of betrayal struck, invoking a feeling of hopelessness within, the threat of hostile footsteps prompted him to run ever faster.
Eric...you really couldn't help yourself, could y–
Adam quickened his pace. The Capital city's mazelike design was a blessing and a curse; easy to hide inside, yet difficult to find your own way out of. Streets twisted, turned, grew narrower, then wider. For how long? A few minutes? A few hours?
He couldn't know for sure. Adam didn't have the luxury of calm thought, for his legs now mattered more than his brain.
Can't–let–the–Hangmen–get–me!
The crowd was a wave of faceless figures, every cloak a dark whisper, every laugh a burning threat. No time to discern passersby from the people hunting me down. Have to assume everything is a danger to me. Objects no longer stood only for themselves. Shadows hid watchers, and flickers of torchlight beckoned accusatory, malevolent gazes.
Nowhere was safe. In that demented, manic haze, Adam's most primal instincts guided him towards the only direction he could go – away.
Away from them.
The storm poured down still. It was less of a rain and more of a dense, almost green mist that sprayed against his face with every passing moment. Coldness clung at his skin as Adam's uneven breath forged a mist of its own. Those vengeful clouds were his ally and his enemy; the wet cobblestone threatened to slip his boots many a time, yet the rainy mist camouflaged his desperate flight among hundreds of others seeking shelter from the elements.
Suddenly, the rain seemed to pause. Nothing felt the same as it had been one moment before. The world slowed down as Adam's heartbeat raced faster.
All to herald the arrival of the Dark Captain.
The Captain was a tall, somewhat elegantly dressed man, with eyes of purple, and hair of white. He stood beneath the rain as if unbothered by the growing storm.
No. Not as if.
"The rain...it...it isn't touching him," Adam muttered to himself, in disbelief.
It was hard to make out details from a distance, but this much, he was sure of. Despite the raging storm above, the Captain was completely dry. Each time the water neared him, it would close up, yet never touch him, sent sideways like it had been repelled by a magnetic force.
Are the raindrops scared of him to the point of fleeing?
A mere glance was enough to understand – strength was not a word befitting of this man. This was one of those rare few that was an anomaly in existence; a life akin to an army in and of itself. Another creature alike the Emperor and the Grandmaster. There was no need for Adam to glance at his tablet to know the man's name or title.
Valente Marinyo, Head of the House of Estrela Verde, and Captain of the Hangmen.
The Strongest Man in the Empire.
Their gazes met, and all color vanished.
It wasn't poetry; it was sight, it was reality. Shades of blue, red, and green turned to pitch-black before Adam's eyes. This is...the world telling me I'm about to die. He didn't know where the thought had come from, yet it felt indisputable, and ruled his mind from that moment onward. His hopes perished within that monochrome world.
He's going to kill me. Six possible Hangmen, only one to worry about...and I got the absolute worst possible outcome.
At first, the Captain seemed to be grimacing, but his expression soon relaxed into a relieved smile. "Ah, look over there! Where was this luck in the Colosseum? Dice should've favored me more, they should have."
Valente lifted a foot high up in the air as if readying himself for a theatrical, exaggerated march. His intention was clear – he was approaching Adam.
I have to do something before he gets here! What can I do? Run? No, there's no way someone like him wouldn't be able to outrun me. My best chance would be to blend in with the–
"Now, now," Valente said. He lowered his leg.
And immediately appeared in front of Adam, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What should I do with you? I don't enjoy killing. Enemies of the Empire do have to die, though. Gods, I'd much rather someone else dealt with you...but as the Colosseum taught me, luck isn't my strong suit."
Adam was stunned into silence as the Hangman rambled on. One instant he'd been across the street, and the next he was inches away. That hadn't been mere speed. It was as if–
NO TIME FOR THAT! With haste, he stepped on the man's shadow and called on his Talent of a Lord. "Kneel," Adam commanded, his eyes sparkling with intensity.
"I think not," Valente cheerfully replied. Upon seeing Adam's expression, he let out a gentle laugh. "Surprised that your Shadow Realm isn't working? Or is it that I've suddenly appeared in front of you?"
Tenver's warning rang true in Adam's mind. 'You have no chance of fighting against him. Forsake the goal of winning. Even running is impossible. Survival should be your only priority.'
No fighting, winning, or running. What else could he do right now? What options did he have?
Get him talking. Delay the execution. "Admittedly, my Lord Talent failing to work is puzzling," Adam said, with false amusement in his voice. Stay confident. Make him think you're not afraid. "Care to elaborate why?"
"For one, I'm pretty confident that I'd be strong enough to survive even inside your Realm," Valente said, his voice sounding both joyful and puzzled. "But then again...I'm not a specialist in Lordly Realms. How about you elucidate for us?"
It was here that Adam noticed Valente was speaking to someone else. "You've been watching for a while now, right?" the Captain said.
A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping closer to them.
Adam then realized, far too late, that he'd been wrong. Happening upon the Captain of the Hangmen – despite having over an 80% chance of avoiding him – was not the worst possible outcome.
"If you insist," said Aspreay.
This was.
"I suppose I can spare a few words." The former Lord wore an expression of vague distaste. "It's not a total waste. At least one of you will live to remember them."
Dealing with a Hangman was difficult enough. Dealing with their Captain was virtually impossible. Adding Aspreay of Penumbria, the only man in this world who hated Adam more than himself, made the problem so insurmountable as to make him want to laugh. It was beyond absurd.
"Your Shadow Realm is an extension of your Realm in Penumbria," Aspreay continued, his every word dripping with disgust. He placed a hand on Adam's other shoulder, standing opposite to the Hangman. "It's the same principle as to why the Emperor cannot so easily pinpoint your location. The power of your Realm is a simple calculation of its size and your overall strength. At present, it is too weak to function inside the Emperor's Realm."
With a tilt of his head, Valente muttered a soft, contemplative hum that skirted between pure innocence and a thinly-veiled aura of murder. "Isn't the Shadow Realm really small, though? It only applies if he can step on my shadow."
"Weren't you listening, white-haired imbecile?" Aspreay said, with annoyance. "It only looks small. It's still derived from the Realm he established in Penumbria. Considering the difference in Rank between him and the Emperor, building a functional Realm inside the Emperor's Realm would require much more finesse."
That seemed easier for the Hangman to understand, who nodded along happily to the explanation. "Yes, I've got it, I see! You're saying that if Adam wanted to fight me with his Lordly Realm, he'd need to first undo the one in Penumbria?"
"Yes. That's exactly it." Aspreay tightened his grip on Adam's shoulder. "If he were to undo his Realm there...he could recreate it here. Make it smaller. Instead of a gigantic Imperial city, if he focused everything onto a narrow street, then perhaps he would have a chance. Lordship is among the few Talents that the Emperor cannot detect inside his Realm."
"I see, I see!" Valente excitedly said. "So the question is whether or not the Pretender is willing to doom his city – and his treasonous followers – in order to save his own skin. Villains such as he will die regardless, but this way he could try to put up a fight."
"Correct," Aspreay stated. "That is precisely the question. So, Painter. What's it going to be? Your life...or Penumbria?"
In response to that, Adam could only bark out a low laugh. "This isn't the first time I've had to decide between those two." He adopted a dry tone, locking eyes with both men. "But considering how dire this situation is...it might actually be my last."
"You don't fear death?" Valente raised an eyebrow. "You bluff, surely."
"I've already made arrangements for my inheritance. If I die, I know who the Lord Talent will get passed down to – and it won't be someone like Aspreay."
Truthfully, he had no idea if his Talent of a Lord even could be passed down like other people's. There were many unknown oddities related to Painted abilities. Still, he had followed the protocol as learned, instituting heirs just in case: Tenver, then Solara, then Esteban, then Vasco. While he wasn't entirely happy with his selection, he'd assumed that if Tenver and Solara had also fallen...there were likely few people left to protect, anyhow.
"I won't disband Penumbria's barrier," Adam calmly told them. "If you want to kill me, go ahead." More sternly, he added, "But Aspreay – you'd better go back and make sure someone has a barrier set up there after you take my head, you hear me?"
He paused, and when he continued, it was with a low voice, almost a growl. "Listen carefully Aspreay. If you let monsters overrun our city, then I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity!"
"Do you mean that?" Aspreay asked, slowly. He didn't seem bothered by the threat, nor did he acknowledge it. "Will you truly not lift the barrier in Penumbria, even in the face of death?"
Adam drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. It's easy to say those things in the heat of the moment. But when I actually stop to think about it...it's terrifying. Dying is scary. I don't want to die. I want to help more people. I want to have fun. I want to trust people again. There's so many things I still have to do.
But...even so...
He opened his eyes and glared at Aspreay. "If I wasn't willing to do this much, I would have had no right to take Penumbria from you."
"Is that so?" Aspreay repeated, in a deadpan. "I suppose that's true." He let go of Adam's shoulder and peered at the Hangman. "Valente, I have a proposal for you."
The Hangman recoiled, as if hurt, but still didn't release his grip on Adam's shoulder. If anything, it grew tighter. "Oh? What could you possibly want? We must impose the will of His Imperial Highness upon creatures such as this man. Surely you don't intend to suggest that we merely let this villain go?"
"No," Aspreay immediately replied. "But you were muttering some inanity earlier about how murdering him or allowing his escape would both be troublesome, were you not?"
"Was I?"
"You were," Aspreay said, with a degree of anger. Then, more formally, he asked, "What do you say that I kill him?" When Valente didn't respond, he added, "The Emperor's reward will be yours. I only want the satisfaction of murdering the man who stole everything from me."
Valente's eyes became alight with a fiery malice, licking his lips as if anticipating a feast. "Oh, I can certainly deal with those terms. It's only fair that you kill the Pretender brat. And I could use the Orbs after how my last night at the Colosseum went...yes, this would be acceptable!"
This is pathetic, Adam seethed. Am I seriously just going to wait here and let them debate how to kill me?
No. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. If they meant for Aspreay to kill him, then the Hangman would need to let go of his shoulder and step back. That would be the best time for Adam to unleash whatever mad attack he could conjure up in his last moments.
Maybe I can try pulling out my tablet to trap Aspreay's soul. It won't save my life, but I'll die happier knowing that he doesn't get to live to gloat about this. Or maybe if I can find a way to start a fire to use Haunted Flames – maybe give the Curse to one of them on purpose.
All hopeless plans, Adam knew. There wouldn't be time to do any of that. If either man saw him reaching for his tablet, they'd murder him on the spot. Using any Talent outside of Lordship would alert the Emperor of his location, and using Lordship would doom Penumbria to a swift and merciless demise by Stained Creatures.
Was this checkmate?
It certainly felt that way when the Hangman let go of Adam's shoulder and took several steps back. "Is this far enough, Aspreay? I don't want to get blood on my suit. Lost my other good one in the Colosseum, you know?"
"A few more steps," Aspreay annoyedly shouted. As Valente acquiesced to his request, the former Lord of Penumbria glanced at Adam and lowered his voice to a whisper. "If you let Vasco die, then I'll be the one haunting you for eternity, brat."
Adam blinked. "The hell are you–"
"Quiet." Aspreay took two steps away – and towards the Hangman. "Get out of my sight."
Suddenly, color returned to Adam's world. It wasn't a full palette yet. Almost every color was dark, an odd shade of blue for most of it, and some dark greens for the rest...but it wasn't monochrome anymore.
"Aspr–" Adam started, then stopped as he recoiled in pain. He instinctively tried to approach Aspreay, one hand extended toward the empty air between the two – then pulled it back as it burned intensely as if he'd just touched...fire? No. Something else. As if a sudden jolt of electricity had just shocked his hand. It was a familiar sensation. Where had he felt that before?
Remembrance came to him in a flash. Adam paled, the blood draining from his face. There's...no way. He wouldn't be able to touch Aspreay right now. No one from the outside could. If you do that, you're going to...
Across from them, the smile was gone from the Hangman's face. When he spoke, it was in a raspier, more malicious tone. "Aspreay, Aspreay Aspreay..." He shook his head. "Oi, oi, oi...are you serious?"
"If you can't understand it still, then you bear the sin of stupidity. You heard my explanation earlier, yes? You also must have heard the brat explaining why he refuses to abandon the city. But I..."
Aspreay lifted his right elbow, dangling his hand before his face as if holding a marionette. "...I am no longer Lord of Penumbria. No attachments. Nothing to hold me back. Nothing to protect."
He clenched his hand into a fist. "Nothing to fear."
"I disagree," Valente said, in that same low, raspy voice. "You should fear me."
"Mayhap so," Aspreay acknowledged.
The Hangman sighed. "Once you utter the words," he warned, "there will be no turning back."
"Aye." Aspreay cracked his neck. "A single street...even against the Emperor's Realm, I should be able to manage it if I narrow it down this much."
The two were about ten steps apart from each other. In this narrow street, the storied buildings and bustling taverns practically felt claustrophobic, as if threatening to envelop them all. A few people walked quickly, not fully cognizant of any of their identities, yet feeling the oncoming storm heavier than the deluge that was presently falling upon them.
For a moment, only the sound of rain punctuated this stage of theirs.
Then Aspreay whipped his arm to the side, as if to signal an invisible army to start its advance, and cried out:
"–REALM–RECONSTRUCTION–!"
--
Thanks for reading!
submitted by Determination7 to HFY [link] [comments]
One of these chapters is short, so we decided to release both in one update.
--
Chapter 38
What?
The word caught in Adam's throat. He couldn't speak, his body frozen as he stared transfixed at Eric. Are you...serious? Did you really...again? It wasn't all just in my head?
I was right?
Eric's Curse flashed in his mind. 'The subject of this meeting will be the Emperor granting amnesty for severe crimes. I will not take credit from slaying the Ghost of Water. I will acknowledge that the Ghost of Waters was killed during the journey from Penumbria to the Puppet Mines, which I was not part of.'
It was meant to be ironclad. Something that laid all worries to rest. Both Eric and his own subconscious had argued that it was more than enough proof; that any doubt on Adam's part was unfair.
But fair or not, those fears proved correct. The meeting came, and credit was given...to Tenver.
I was right.
He thought back to the many paintings he'd shown Eric. One of them, surely, should have revealed the truth of his duplicitous nature. Yet he hadn't stolen Adam's work out of jealousy, or anger, or revenge. They truly had been friends at one point, and Eric didn't need the contest's prize money. Nor was Eric desperate to make a name for himself. It wasn't that he thought he could never create a piece of art on that level. He didn't wish to drive Adam to suicide, or for Adam to never be around, and he did care about him to at least some degree.
Adam knew that most people would have considered all that...excessive. There was covering your bases, and then there was locking your bases down in a fortress of steel. At the very least, though, it meant he could finally put his paranoia behind him.
Except that paranoia was only paranoia if it ended up being wrong.
I...was right.
"My Hangman has made a bold claim indeed." The Emperor turned to face Adam, arching a regal eyebrow. "Have you any words in your defense?"
Adam didn't bother speaking up. Nothing he could say would salvage this. Instead, he looked directly at Eric. Maybe the Hangman had...misspoken, somehow. Maybe he would have a last-minute change of heart.
It wasn't too late.
"Be wary of the Pretender's lies," Eric stated. His eyes showed not an inkling of regret. "After Tenver slew the Ghost of Waters, the Pretender used his Talent – granted to him by the Dark Sorcerer – to alter the memories of everyone aboard his ship. I was the only one who did not fall prey to it."
Oh.
We're really going there, then?
No rightful anger took over Adam's body. He didn't stand in silent disbelief at what had transpired. His body did not tremble, in either sadness or anger. At no point did his vision blur, or his stomach threaten to empty itself.
There was only a quiet sadness within him.
In spite of everything, one small part of Adam had still trusted Eric – or wanted to, anyway– and it would have leapt with joy if proven right.
Now, it was quiet, never to raise its voice again.
Adam stared at Eric with a gaze of muted grief, knowing that their bond couldn't ever be repaired.
"Very well then," Ciro said, unsurprised. "I see no reason to delay my verdict." His voice and the clap of his hands may as well have been announcing the start of a brothel's show of debauchery. "For the crime of treason, you are condemned to death by execution."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "It will take place here and now."
Adam forced himself to speak as a great pressure started to build around him, well-aware that his time was limited. "Tell me," he muttered, addressing Eric directly. "I just – I need to know why. Why would you do that? You...you had nothing to gain. You could've gotten more by just...telling the truth."
Eric gave him nothing but silence in response.
"Do you know what the worst part is?" Adam said, barely containing his tears. God, this didn't hurt any less the second time. "I was trying to...I was trying to – until the very last possible second, I wasn't sure what I should do. I thought that if I planned for your betrayal, and if you turned out to be telling the truth, I wouldn't deserve your friendship. It made me–"
"–Ah, boredom," Ciro said, lifting his hands. "Die already."
A maelstrom of darkness appeared from nowhere. It was as if a dark sun had spawned inside the room, affecting Adam alone. The Emperor merely stood untouched before him, like he was separated by an invisible glass shield. Ciro waved at him, as if bidding farewell – and perhaps he was.
Every inch of Adam's body was twisted, contorted, then drawn into the maelstrom, swallowed by a voracious void. Time slowed to a crawl. An eternity passed, the very light around him bending sideways as his legs flew ahead of him.
Adam watched himself die over the course of an everlasting instant. He had only time to think of one word before his body ceased to be. Gravi–
The hole collapsed out of reality, leaving nothing behind.
--
Ciro stood up. "Well, this was a pleasant afternoon. Clean things up for me, will you, Eric?" He walked off. "I suppose I'll have company soon – now that my nephew has been cleared of his crimes. Most unfortunate. Anyhow, it simply wouldn't do to greet him in a damaged throne room. I'm sure one of your Talents can figure something out, yes?"
For a moment, only the Emperor's distant footsteps could be heard among the silence. At least until he stopped to turn around, casting an impassive gaze back at his subordinate. "Oh, yes. Eric? Good job."
After the Emperor exited his throne room, a full minute passed before the Hangman dared to speak. Drawing a deep breath, he glanced at what remained of Adam.
Which was nothing. No flesh, blood or bone. Not even a stain. Not even atoms.
Still...Eric found it fitting to gaze upon the spot where his best friend had died.
For several seconds, he stood in a quiet vigil. This was the only funeral that would honor the Pretender of Penumbria. And as its sole participant, it fell to Eric to deliver the eulogy.
He opened his mouth, speaking straight from the heart. "Honestly? I never wanted the world, Adam."
Eric inclined his head. "I just wanted you to have nothing."
"Is that so?" Adam replied, sadly.
"WHA–"
He didn't give Eric time to reply. As his body rewound itself into its previous state, Adam slammed his fist against the man's face. Violence overwhelms Talents. Even yours.
Eric collapsed to the floor, momentarily stunned. Adam was already running. He couldn't waste even a single moment. The Hangman would strike as soon as he regained his wits, and the Emperor wasn't far away, either. Every second that passed was one second closer to ruination.
Yet there was still one thing that Adam needed to say. Enough to risk his life for.
"The worst part was that I wanted to believe in you," Adam continued, as if he hadn't been rudely interrupted by a gruesome death. "I tried to, you know? Until the very last instant, I tried."
He sighed. "I would've been satisfied if I could – even if you betrayed me. Didn't really need anything else. But despite how much I wished for it, or what my heart desired...I think I'm just completely unable to trust you again. That's the worst part. Worse than the betrayal could ever be."
"Adam, I–you–how dare–"
"But just because I don't trust you..."
The Painter rolled up his sleeves to show an inked pattern.
"Doesn't mean I can't trust anyone."
'Solara, I'm going to use my new Talent on us,' Adam had told her last night. 'It'll give me limited use of your revival Talent, and you of my Flames. That way, when Eric betrays me, I'll fake death and escape.'
The elf smiled teasingly. 'Oh? Aren't you afraid of what I might do with access to your powers? That I might turn out like the Hangman?'
Her tone grew more serious. 'According to your ability, I'll be able to use your Talent if you trust me. But if I don't trust you, then you won't be able to use mine. Aren't you afraid I'm deceiving you? That you might die and simply not wake up?'
'I am,' he admitted. 'But even so...I want to believe in you.'
Adam dashed over to the far end wall, calling on his Stained Vines. This was his best chance of escaping. The Emperor's guards would be waiting behind doors, not solid walls, and his experiments with Aspreay's prisoners had taught him that Stained Ink could cut through even the most magical of stones.
"WAIT, ADAM!" Eric shouted. There was a remorseless pain in his voice. It was deep, perhaps even genuine, yet... "You don't – you don't get it! Tenver, that literal bastard, he tricked me, manipulated me, threatened to kill an entire city with a bomb he stole from the puppets. He was never your friend! I was going to undo your death later, when it was safe! You have to trust me, this was the only way–"
Adam didn't wait for him to finish. He cut a hole through the wall and launched himself out of the castle.
It starts now, he thought. Our rebellion.
The die was cast.
--
Chapter 39
The Night Before
"Assuming that I'm executed," Adam began, "would it be possible to delay my resurrection until after the Emperor is gone?"
Solara nodded. "You should have some amount of control over my Talent. Don't push it too hard – after dying, your body will start to repel your soul, like opposing magnets. If you wait overly long, you might not be able to come back."
That aligned with some of what the Grandmaster had alluded to about how the Dragons used to capture souls for creating Puppets. While it wasn't relevant to the plan at hand, Adam found it noteworthy, regardless.
Tenver stirred in his seat. "This scheme is far too reckless. Why meet up with the Emperor at all if you are so certain of Eric's betrayal?"
"Because I'm not," Adam plainly answered. "My brain feels like it's a certainty, but my heart can't quite accept it. Even right now, making this plan with you guys...there's a part of me that keeps saying: You're wasting time, planning for something that won't happen. Eric has always got your back." He laughed heartily and bitterly at himself. "Quite the foolish thought, don't you agree?"
Then, with deadly confidence, he spoke in a low voice. "That's why I want to do this." His hand tightened on the left side of his chest. "I want to rid myself of hesitation before we do anything drastic."
"Anything drastic, eh..." Solara aimed her gaze at the ceiling. "Such as killing the Emperor?"
"Him too," Adam said, nodding. "There's a few excuses I could make about why I'm going through with the meeting. For one, making ourselves an enemy of the Emperor publicly would raise our banner as the one his enemies should rally behind. Maybe I'll also get lucky and find out enough about him to paint his soul. If nothing else, he might have important information on things we need to know, such as how my world and the Painted World are connected."
He paused. "But if I'm being honest...more than all of that...I just want to throw away my doubts before burning everything to the ground."
Silence.
"Thanks for going along with this," Adam muttered. "It's selfish of me."
Solara laughed. "I'm glad that you are capable of selfishness. Being helped by a saint makes every temptation feel like a sin." She stretched her arms above her head. "Worry not. All of us owe the other debts we cannot repay, so let's not fuss over it."
Tenver nodded in agreement. "Aye. Knowing of your greed lessens my guilt for my own." He shook his head, as if arguing with himself. "Moreover, some of those 'excuses' are quite valid, especially the one you haven't bothered to state aloud – that your existence is still seen as treason by the Emperor. Should he not grant you amnesty, your life and that of Penumbria's will be forfeit. Considering we have no way of matching the Empire's military, making an attempt at peace is prudent."
"If you will excuse me," Solara cut in, "earlier you mentioned 'your world' and–"
"I'll explain later," Adam promised her. "We don't have much time, so let's focus on our escape plan. Remember; you shouldn't enter the throne room with me no matter what. They'll probably want to separate us anyway, but if they allow you guys in for some reason, make something up and calmly get out. My escape will distract them from yours. We left the Airship outside the city's Barrier for a reason."
Tenver fell into thought. "Right. The moment you head inside the throne room, we'll devise an excuse to leave the castle. You won't be declared a traitor for at least about five minutes, so they'll have no reason to keep us from leaving...officially, anyhow. I'm sure they'll still try to force us to stay, but the guards should be easier to get through."
"I could kill myself," Solara proposed. "Pretend there's an emergency and you need to mourn my sudden, inexplicable death. Even if they're under orders to keep us in, that might confuse them enough to let us go, even if they keep an eye on us."
She glanced at Adam. "But what about you? Won't the Emperor hunt you down immediately after you escape? We are inside his Realm, after all."
Adam had considered this point intensely for a long while. It was something he'd considered even back when imprisoned by Aspreay:
Would the lord have been able to tell if someone escaped his city? How closely could he track its inhabitants?
This was a vital detail, and Adam had treated it as such. Between books, references, his own experiences, and his tablet, he'd made sure to gather as much information as possible.
He couldn't be wrong about this.
"I doubt it," Adam said, frankly. "The Emperor has the strongest Talent of a Lord in the world, no doubt about that. But...the Capital is also the largest city in the world. To use myself as an example – while I'm roughly aware of how many people there are in Penumbria, it's not like I can keep track of them."
He tapped his thigh. "Even if the Emperor is far stronger than me, it's not like he can monitor every person in a city of hundreds of thousands. It's like watching an ant colony. Even if you can see all of them, your brain can't really process everything, much less narrow down the search to a single one. He won't be able to find me that easily."
Although that would be a different story if the Realm's size was smaller, with fewer people. Then the Emperor might even be able to tell what someone thinks inside of it.
Solara wasn't yet convinced. "I like to think that I'd notice if one of the ants suddenly employed a Talent, though. And using Resurrection is definitely going to draw his awareness towards you."
"Yeah. Probably." Adam acknowledged the point easily enough. That was within his margin of acceptable risks. "Which is why I'll only have a few moments to act. First I'll use Resurrection to come back to life, then cut open the walls with Stained Ink and jump outside. After that, I'll try to blend in with the crowd in the streets. It's a big city, and the Emperor is unlikely to come after me personally. I'm dressed well, but not so well that I'll stand out in the Capital of all places. Normal guards will struggle to pick me out of the masses."
His words were true – yet they brought forth the point that none wished to acknowledge. "The guards will struggle...but what of the Hangmen?" Tenver quietly asked. "Aside from Eric, the Emperor should have others at his disposal."
"Valeria got us some information about that," Adam said. Though the Puppet Detective had remained in the Mines for the time being, she was committed to her sworn fealty as a citizen of Penumbria, eagerly – almost scarily – investigating everything asked of her. "There are six Hangmen that usually stay in the city and rarely go out on missions. The Emperor typically has each of them patrolling the districts that lead out of the castle, and he frequently changes who goes where."
"Just our bloody luck," Tenver muttered. "All six of them..."
Solara folded her arms, seeming hesitant. "Tenver...ah...I know this is a difficult question, but you're the one who'd be most familiar with the Empire's Hangmen. Anything you can tell us?"
It was a sensitive question, as some of those Hangmen had likely aided the Emperor in killing Tenver's father. Nonetheless, the knight needed less than a second to answer.
"Fighting against any of them is out of the question," he began. "Even if we could muster up a win – which is truly unlikely – it would take so long that other Hangmen could arrive. And after a battle like that, even normal guards without any godly Talents would be enough to subdue you."
He sighed. "But considering Lord Adam's Talents, even if he stumbles upon one of them, he should be able to escape. We're not here to fight; just to survive. And I'm confident he can manage that against most of them. Except..."
There was a pause.
"Except against their Captain." Tenver lowered his gaze to the floor and clasped his hands together. Was he...trembling? "If you see a man with white hair and purple eyes, who looks like he hasn't slept in days...even just escaping will be impossible."
Adam couldn't disagree. He'd never met the Captain in person, but the stories he'd heard told all he needed to know. "That's the man who killed the Mountain Puppets, right?"
At that, Solara sat up. "The one who single-handedly carved a tunnel between Gama and Penumbria?"
"The very same," Tenver replied, with an acrid tone. "He...Adam, if you see him, don't even try running. Remember that my Father also possessed an Emperor level Talent – unfair fight or not, who do you think killed him?"
A mild shiver went down Adam's spine. He put on a brave face, trying not to think about what potentially awaited him in the capital city. "Between the Captain and the current Emperor, which one of them is stronger?"
"The Captain doesn't possess a Lord's Realm, so he can't rule over people as my dear old Uncle does," Tenver slowly replied. "But when it comes to simple, overwhelming strength...there is not a single man who could best him throughout the entire Empire."
Adam hesitated before responding. "It should be fine," he said, with forced optimism. "If each Hangman is guarding just one of six districts, then I've got over an 80% chance of avoiding the Captain."
He nodded in an attempt to persuade both his allies and himself. "All of this hinges on Eric's betrayal, anyway. He might surprise us. And there's a slim chance that even with his betrayal, I'll be able to convince the Emperor that I should be left alive. It's a gamble, but if we do nothing, the Empire will just come knocking on our door sooner rather than later."
Adam drew himself up. He could feel the reaper hang its scythe over his neck, waiting to see if it should cut down.
"I'll take these odds."
--
Present Day
Adam launched himself out of the castle. He needed to move fast – Emperor Ciro would have certainly noticed his Resurrection, and he'd already wasted too much time exchanging words with Eric.
That goes for both just now...and for my entire life.
The cold, hard streets were rushing up to meet him. Ciro's throne room was located rather high up in his castle – no normal person could have survived a fall like this. Thankfully, Adam had accounted for that in his planning.
Although he did find some irony in the fact that it was raining outside. If only the Ghost of Waters hadn't been made up of so many different souls, he mused. I could've stolen his Talent and escaped through the raindrops. Would've been way easier. While there hadn't been any realistic chance of him stealing that Talent, the regret burned regardless.
It didn't last long. None of his emotions did. Adam focused all of his attention on the task at hand, shoving aside his lingering concerns until nothing else mattered. Even his grief over having to accept Eric's final betrayal could wait.
Right now...he had a city to escape. "Stained Vines!" Adam stabbed through the side of the castle walls, using his Talent to slow his fall. Initially, he'd half-planned to start a fire and use the Haunted Flames to escape, but the sudden onset of rain had taken that option away from him.
It's not all bad, though. The heavy rain worked as a cover, obscuring him from sight as he descended. Guards and citizens down below won't see me. They don't have any reason to look up at one specific area of the Imperial Palace during a storm. I can escape – no one's coming after me!
Adam screamed the thought in his head...which didn't make it sound any more convincing. He'd earned a head start on his pursuers, but that was it. Eric would be rushing to alert the Emperor by now, and it was likely that at least a few people had witnessed the indistinct, rain-cloaked figure rappelling down the castle's walls.
Still, he had to make himself believe it. He couldn't let fear touch him, lest he become its slave.
And he would never allow himself to controlled ever aga–
"Well, well. You survived?"
His heart froze as the Emperor's voice filled inside his head. "Was that the Talent of Resurrection? What a curious little Painter you are." Casual malice dripped from every word. "Stay put. I shall send–"
Adam tuned out the voice. Despite being a bit high up, he forcibly let go of his Stained Vines, quickly plummeting to the ground below. The impact was painful, but nothing seemed broken. Good enough.
Two thoughts came to him at once. The first was, He can send thoughts into the heads of people inside his Realm? How does that– and the second, I can't have been using my Talents for longer than a minute. Was that enough for him to find me? That's absurd! If that's the case, then I'm already dead!
Uncertainty clouded his questions of the future, but the truth of the moment reigned supreme – inaction meant death. Adam could only grit his teeth and set himself running into the rainy streets, his feet clicking against the cobblestone and echoing throughout the city.
For a moment, for just a singular, solitary second, Adam stopped pretending. He quit being a superhuman above such petty concerns, and allowed himself to think everything that he'd forbidden from himself until now.
'This is hopeless.'
'I'm already dead.'
'I can't escape the Emperor.'
'I've gotten everyone killed.'
Each and every one, a valid thought.
Adam discarded them all. "Being reasonable isn't going to get me anywhere," he declared to himself. "I'm going to escape. That's a guarantee."
His vow sustained him as he fled, the encroaching shadows chasing close behind.
–
Adam's flight from the castle was a desperate blur. His breath was ragged in the chill air, and his sense of time had deserted him. It should have been midday, yet the stormclouds masked even that. Too gray for the light of day, too gray for the dark of night.
Fear clung onto him tighter than his wet, rain-soaked shroud. It was both a heavy chain of burden and the only thing that moved him forward. Every time the sharp reality of betrayal struck, invoking a feeling of hopelessness within, the threat of hostile footsteps prompted him to run ever faster.
Eric...you really couldn't help yourself, could y–
Adam quickened his pace. The Capital city's mazelike design was a blessing and a curse; easy to hide inside, yet difficult to find your own way out of. Streets twisted, turned, grew narrower, then wider. For how long? A few minutes? A few hours?
He couldn't know for sure. Adam didn't have the luxury of calm thought, for his legs now mattered more than his brain.
Can't–let–the–Hangmen–get–me!
The crowd was a wave of faceless figures, every cloak a dark whisper, every laugh a burning threat. No time to discern passersby from the people hunting me down. Have to assume everything is a danger to me. Objects no longer stood only for themselves. Shadows hid watchers, and flickers of torchlight beckoned accusatory, malevolent gazes.
Nowhere was safe. In that demented, manic haze, Adam's most primal instincts guided him towards the only direction he could go – away.
Away from them.
The storm poured down still. It was less of a rain and more of a dense, almost green mist that sprayed against his face with every passing moment. Coldness clung at his skin as Adam's uneven breath forged a mist of its own. Those vengeful clouds were his ally and his enemy; the wet cobblestone threatened to slip his boots many a time, yet the rainy mist camouflaged his desperate flight among hundreds of others seeking shelter from the elements.
Suddenly, the rain seemed to pause. Nothing felt the same as it had been one moment before. The world slowed down as Adam's heartbeat raced faster.
All to herald the arrival of the Dark Captain.
The Captain was a tall, somewhat elegantly dressed man, with eyes of purple, and hair of white. He stood beneath the rain as if unbothered by the growing storm.
No. Not as if.
"The rain...it...it isn't touching him," Adam muttered to himself, in disbelief.
It was hard to make out details from a distance, but this much, he was sure of. Despite the raging storm above, the Captain was completely dry. Each time the water neared him, it would close up, yet never touch him, sent sideways like it had been repelled by a magnetic force.
Are the raindrops scared of him to the point of fleeing?
A mere glance was enough to understand – strength was not a word befitting of this man. This was one of those rare few that was an anomaly in existence; a life akin to an army in and of itself. Another creature alike the Emperor and the Grandmaster. There was no need for Adam to glance at his tablet to know the man's name or title.
Valente Marinyo, Head of the House of Estrela Verde, and Captain of the Hangmen.
The Strongest Man in the Empire.
Their gazes met, and all color vanished.
It wasn't poetry; it was sight, it was reality. Shades of blue, red, and green turned to pitch-black before Adam's eyes. This is...the world telling me I'm about to die. He didn't know where the thought had come from, yet it felt indisputable, and ruled his mind from that moment onward. His hopes perished within that monochrome world.
He's going to kill me. Six possible Hangmen, only one to worry about...and I got the absolute worst possible outcome.
At first, the Captain seemed to be grimacing, but his expression soon relaxed into a relieved smile. "Ah, look over there! Where was this luck in the Colosseum? Dice should've favored me more, they should have."
Valente lifted a foot high up in the air as if readying himself for a theatrical, exaggerated march. His intention was clear – he was approaching Adam.
I have to do something before he gets here! What can I do? Run? No, there's no way someone like him wouldn't be able to outrun me. My best chance would be to blend in with the–
"Now, now," Valente said. He lowered his leg.
And immediately appeared in front of Adam, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What should I do with you? I don't enjoy killing. Enemies of the Empire do have to die, though. Gods, I'd much rather someone else dealt with you...but as the Colosseum taught me, luck isn't my strong suit."
Adam was stunned into silence as the Hangman rambled on. One instant he'd been across the street, and the next he was inches away. That hadn't been mere speed. It was as if–
NO TIME FOR THAT! With haste, he stepped on the man's shadow and called on his Talent of a Lord. "Kneel," Adam commanded, his eyes sparkling with intensity.
"I think not," Valente cheerfully replied. Upon seeing Adam's expression, he let out a gentle laugh. "Surprised that your Shadow Realm isn't working? Or is it that I've suddenly appeared in front of you?"
Tenver's warning rang true in Adam's mind. 'You have no chance of fighting against him. Forsake the goal of winning. Even running is impossible. Survival should be your only priority.'
No fighting, winning, or running. What else could he do right now? What options did he have?
Get him talking. Delay the execution. "Admittedly, my Lord Talent failing to work is puzzling," Adam said, with false amusement in his voice. Stay confident. Make him think you're not afraid. "Care to elaborate why?"
"For one, I'm pretty confident that I'd be strong enough to survive even inside your Realm," Valente said, his voice sounding both joyful and puzzled. "But then again...I'm not a specialist in Lordly Realms. How about you elucidate for us?"
It was here that Adam noticed Valente was speaking to someone else. "You've been watching for a while now, right?" the Captain said.
A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping closer to them.
Adam then realized, far too late, that he'd been wrong. Happening upon the Captain of the Hangmen – despite having over an 80% chance of avoiding him – was not the worst possible outcome.
"If you insist," said Aspreay.
This was.
"I suppose I can spare a few words." The former Lord wore an expression of vague distaste. "It's not a total waste. At least one of you will live to remember them."
Dealing with a Hangman was difficult enough. Dealing with their Captain was virtually impossible. Adding Aspreay of Penumbria, the only man in this world who hated Adam more than himself, made the problem so insurmountable as to make him want to laugh. It was beyond absurd.
"Your Shadow Realm is an extension of your Realm in Penumbria," Aspreay continued, his every word dripping with disgust. He placed a hand on Adam's other shoulder, standing opposite to the Hangman. "It's the same principle as to why the Emperor cannot so easily pinpoint your location. The power of your Realm is a simple calculation of its size and your overall strength. At present, it is too weak to function inside the Emperor's Realm."
With a tilt of his head, Valente muttered a soft, contemplative hum that skirted between pure innocence and a thinly-veiled aura of murder. "Isn't the Shadow Realm really small, though? It only applies if he can step on my shadow."
"Weren't you listening, white-haired imbecile?" Aspreay said, with annoyance. "It only looks small. It's still derived from the Realm he established in Penumbria. Considering the difference in Rank between him and the Emperor, building a functional Realm inside the Emperor's Realm would require much more finesse."
That seemed easier for the Hangman to understand, who nodded along happily to the explanation. "Yes, I've got it, I see! You're saying that if Adam wanted to fight me with his Lordly Realm, he'd need to first undo the one in Penumbria?"
"Yes. That's exactly it." Aspreay tightened his grip on Adam's shoulder. "If he were to undo his Realm there...he could recreate it here. Make it smaller. Instead of a gigantic Imperial city, if he focused everything onto a narrow street, then perhaps he would have a chance. Lordship is among the few Talents that the Emperor cannot detect inside his Realm."
"I see, I see!" Valente excitedly said. "So the question is whether or not the Pretender is willing to doom his city – and his treasonous followers – in order to save his own skin. Villains such as he will die regardless, but this way he could try to put up a fight."
"Correct," Aspreay stated. "That is precisely the question. So, Painter. What's it going to be? Your life...or Penumbria?"
In response to that, Adam could only bark out a low laugh. "This isn't the first time I've had to decide between those two." He adopted a dry tone, locking eyes with both men. "But considering how dire this situation is...it might actually be my last."
"You don't fear death?" Valente raised an eyebrow. "You bluff, surely."
"I've already made arrangements for my inheritance. If I die, I know who the Lord Talent will get passed down to – and it won't be someone like Aspreay."
Truthfully, he had no idea if his Talent of a Lord even could be passed down like other people's. There were many unknown oddities related to Painted abilities. Still, he had followed the protocol as learned, instituting heirs just in case: Tenver, then Solara, then Esteban, then Vasco. While he wasn't entirely happy with his selection, he'd assumed that if Tenver and Solara had also fallen...there were likely few people left to protect, anyhow.
"I won't disband Penumbria's barrier," Adam calmly told them. "If you want to kill me, go ahead." More sternly, he added, "But Aspreay – you'd better go back and make sure someone has a barrier set up there after you take my head, you hear me?"
He paused, and when he continued, it was with a low voice, almost a growl. "Listen carefully Aspreay. If you let monsters overrun our city, then I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity!"
"Do you mean that?" Aspreay asked, slowly. He didn't seem bothered by the threat, nor did he acknowledge it. "Will you truly not lift the barrier in Penumbria, even in the face of death?"
Adam drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. It's easy to say those things in the heat of the moment. But when I actually stop to think about it...it's terrifying. Dying is scary. I don't want to die. I want to help more people. I want to have fun. I want to trust people again. There's so many things I still have to do.
But...even so...
He opened his eyes and glared at Aspreay. "If I wasn't willing to do this much, I would have had no right to take Penumbria from you."
"Is that so?" Aspreay repeated, in a deadpan. "I suppose that's true." He let go of Adam's shoulder and peered at the Hangman. "Valente, I have a proposal for you."
The Hangman recoiled, as if hurt, but still didn't release his grip on Adam's shoulder. If anything, it grew tighter. "Oh? What could you possibly want? We must impose the will of His Imperial Highness upon creatures such as this man. Surely you don't intend to suggest that we merely let this villain go?"
"No," Aspreay immediately replied. "But you were muttering some inanity earlier about how murdering him or allowing his escape would both be troublesome, were you not?"
"Was I?"
"You were," Aspreay said, with a degree of anger. Then, more formally, he asked, "What do you say that I kill him?" When Valente didn't respond, he added, "The Emperor's reward will be yours. I only want the satisfaction of murdering the man who stole everything from me."
Valente's eyes became alight with a fiery malice, licking his lips as if anticipating a feast. "Oh, I can certainly deal with those terms. It's only fair that you kill the Pretender brat. And I could use the Orbs after how my last night at the Colosseum went...yes, this would be acceptable!"
This is pathetic, Adam seethed. Am I seriously just going to wait here and let them debate how to kill me?
No. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. If they meant for Aspreay to kill him, then the Hangman would need to let go of his shoulder and step back. That would be the best time for Adam to unleash whatever mad attack he could conjure up in his last moments.
Maybe I can try pulling out my tablet to trap Aspreay's soul. It won't save my life, but I'll die happier knowing that he doesn't get to live to gloat about this. Or maybe if I can find a way to start a fire to use Haunted Flames – maybe give the Curse to one of them on purpose.
All hopeless plans, Adam knew. There wouldn't be time to do any of that. If either man saw him reaching for his tablet, they'd murder him on the spot. Using any Talent outside of Lordship would alert the Emperor of his location, and using Lordship would doom Penumbria to a swift and merciless demise by Stained Creatures.
Was this checkmate?
It certainly felt that way when the Hangman let go of Adam's shoulder and took several steps back. "Is this far enough, Aspreay? I don't want to get blood on my suit. Lost my other good one in the Colosseum, you know?"
"A few more steps," Aspreay annoyedly shouted. As Valente acquiesced to his request, the former Lord of Penumbria glanced at Adam and lowered his voice to a whisper. "If you let Vasco die, then I'll be the one haunting you for eternity, brat."
Adam blinked. "The hell are you–"
"Quiet." Aspreay took two steps away – and towards the Hangman. "Get out of my sight."
Suddenly, color returned to Adam's world. It wasn't a full palette yet. Almost every color was dark, an odd shade of blue for most of it, and some dark greens for the rest...but it wasn't monochrome anymore.
"Aspr–" Adam started, then stopped as he recoiled in pain. He instinctively tried to approach Aspreay, one hand extended toward the empty air between the two – then pulled it back as it burned intensely as if he'd just touched...fire? No. Something else. As if a sudden jolt of electricity had just shocked his hand. It was a familiar sensation. Where had he felt that before?
Remembrance came to him in a flash. Adam paled, the blood draining from his face. There's...no way. He wouldn't be able to touch Aspreay right now. No one from the outside could. If you do that, you're going to...
Across from them, the smile was gone from the Hangman's face. When he spoke, it was in a raspier, more malicious tone. "Aspreay, Aspreay Aspreay..." He shook his head. "Oi, oi, oi...are you serious?"
"If you can't understand it still, then you bear the sin of stupidity. You heard my explanation earlier, yes? You also must have heard the brat explaining why he refuses to abandon the city. But I..."
Aspreay lifted his right elbow, dangling his hand before his face as if holding a marionette. "...I am no longer Lord of Penumbria. No attachments. Nothing to hold me back. Nothing to protect."
He clenched his hand into a fist. "Nothing to fear."
"I disagree," Valente said, in that same low, raspy voice. "You should fear me."
"Mayhap so," Aspreay acknowledged.
The Hangman sighed. "Once you utter the words," he warned, "there will be no turning back."
"Aye." Aspreay cracked his neck. "A single street...even against the Emperor's Realm, I should be able to manage it if I narrow it down this much."
The two were about ten steps apart from each other. In this narrow street, the storied buildings and bustling taverns practically felt claustrophobic, as if threatening to envelop them all. A few people walked quickly, not fully cognizant of any of their identities, yet feeling the oncoming storm heavier than the deluge that was presently falling upon them.
For a moment, only the sound of rain punctuated this stage of theirs.
Then Aspreay whipped his arm to the side, as if to signal an invisible army to start its advance, and cried out:
"–REALM–RECONSTRUCTION–!"
--
Thanks for reading!
2024.05.07 03:08 ApprehensiveCap6525 Exchange Program Shenanigans (46)
Yeah I think this community is long past its prime tbh. We've fallen off. May God help us.
CW: vietnamese sniper nest, jelim gets really high, jelim is misgendered at least once, properly foreshadowed plot twist, Prestige Exterminator Vrapic
Memory Transcription Subject: Jelim, Extermination Commander
Date (standardized human time): September 21, 2136
I was really not built to take breaks. I rarely ever did, but I couldn't really tell if that was the cause or the symptom of my not-quite-a-problem.
Well, sometimes it was a problem. I knew Jack would've liked it if I took more time off for my personal life. But, on the other branch, I had a lot of plaques on my office wall back at the district. Couldn't get that if I kept slacking off.
Well, technically, I wasn't slacking off. Technically, I was healing from the ass-beating I had gotten from Heval a little while. Yeah, I'd say I'm good as new by now. Pride's still bruised, though. But, still, people were dying. I should've been out there.
The news broadcast in my hospital bed turned off. That was a shame. It was the one thing I liked looking at in this sterile and soulless room.
Okay, let's take inventory here. We've got... let's see... we've got a wall... another wall... ooh, that one has a window, but yep, still mostly wall. All white, too. You know, it wouldn't kill these people to add in a splash of red or green in here.
"Okay, Jelim, focus up." I turned to look at the door.
Isola stood in it.
Oh. That's unexpected.
"Why the hell are you alive?" I snapped. Okay, maybe not the best way to start a conversation. "And where the hell have you been?"
Now, that's an important question. Good on you, Jelim. You should ask those more often.
She walked into the room, closing the door behind her. "First of all, that's not important. And second of all, I did some snooping. That's why I say you have to focus up." Oh, I was focusing.
"Well, first of all, that is important." It was. But it could be discussed later. "But, as to the second part, I'm all ears." There was nothing she could say that I hadn't already heard.
"Sevros is going to get away." Oh. There was. That was a new one. "I know it. His shuttle is being prepared for launch right now."
God damn. How does she know this stuff?
"He's stored the shuttle at an abandoned hangar in the mountains, his convoy is on its way there right now," said Isola. "If we go fast, we can catch them."
"How, exactly, do you know this?" I asked.
"You think you're the only one who can talk to Salvek?" Oh. That made a lot of sense, actually. "I'm a lot smarter than I usually get credit for." And a lot more arrogant, apparently.
"Your results should speak for themselves, Isola." I waved a wing at the far wall, where my bodyguards had put up my fifth 'Valor Under Fire' award until I could hang it in my office. "Like that."
"Fair point," she conceded. "Now, let's go. We don't have any time to waste."
I sighed, smoothed out a few feathers, and hopped out of my hospital bed. If I'm going to be wrapping this whole thing up, I'd better look nice in the process. "I'll go ahead and secure the shuttle bay, you drum up whatever force you can spare to finish this off." I was already making a plan, a pretty good one too if I do say so myself, and I was out the door in seconds.
"I'll send the location to your pad!" Isola exclaimed before we parted ways. She could probably find Karelim and a few others, if everybody wasn't already fighting in Federation Tower.
I knew those idiots should've held some officers in reserve! I could've told them as much, too, but they didn't brahking listen. I swear to god, this Guild is going to drive me off the deep end one day.
I found the stairwell, waved off all the hospital workers I found, and jumped over the railing to land gracefully on the bottom floor. I love my wings. I was in the basement. Never mind.
Well, better get to work. There's got to be a ramp here somewhere.
I left the stairwell to find myself in a hospital parking garage that was mostly empty of cars, with an extermination van pulling in via a ramp. Oh. Great! Reinforcements!
I ran over to the vehicle, waving a wing in the air, but I stopped in my tracks when I saw who was driving it. Oh. Great. Racists. "Didn't I send people to arrest you?" I asked, patting my hip for a sidearm that I hoped I wouldn't have to use.
"You did. I want to know why."
"Officer Kern advised me-" He cut me off. Yep. I already know where this is going.
"And you believed him?" Vrapic scoffed. "Him, a predator, a creature built on violence and lies?"
I shrugged. "He's been pretty straightforward so far."
"You are a danger to the people of Dayside City, Jelim." Oh, you say that again. Say that again, and see what happens. "You've allowed yourself to become tainted by a predator, and I can't allow that."
I put my claw on the butt of my pistol. "And what, exactly, are you going to do to stop me?" I could deny the accusation, but we both knew that wouldn't work on his type. God, I hope I won't have to kill him.
He also carried a pistol. I did not want to use mine. I stepped closer to the van. "You stay back!" He drew his gun. I took another step. He fired once at my feet. "Put on the cuffs, or your brain paints the floor." He tossed a pair of handcuffs at my feet.
Only one? Dumbass.
"Well, you've got me," I sighed. I unclipped my holster and tossed it away before bending over to put on my handcuffs. "What now?" I gave a pitiful two-clawed wave.
"Get in the van." God damn, you really are stupid, aren't you?
I took a few sheepish steps forward, feigning cooperation until I got within claw's reach of his gun. Then, in a flash, I grabbed his wrist with both claws and pushed it up and away from my head. He didn't fire.
So he doesn't have it in him to shoot. Good. That's good. It means he's not too far gone.
I was getting old, as exterminators went. Vrapic was supposed to be my replacement. I had been training him for years to turn out more or less like me. Funny how that turned out, huh? At the moment, however, I was kicking him in the chest. Sometimes, things didn't go as planned.
I kicked once in the chest and once in the liver for a nasty two-piece combo, sending him doubled over and gasping in time for a nasty shot to the head.
Not from my gun, of course, but God damn it must've felt like it. My kicks were brahking lethal. I wasn't even exaggerating that much.
Vrapic dropped like a two-hundred-pound sack of bricks. Stay down, dog. Next time, don't bite the hand that feeds you. I really needed to write some of these one-liners down. Or maybe start saying them out loud. Either one was good.
Anyway, I had work to do. I did a brief check on the response team, which was going well, and I went outside. It was a beautiful day out. Not very windy. The sun was high in the sky, too, which it usually was in a place like this.
Usually? Hell, try always. I brahking hate this planet sometimes.
The gravity felt heavy on my oh-so-fragile bird bones. It always did. That was why no Krakotl I knew could manage to fly on this planet.
Quite frankly, most of the Krakotl I knew were lazy.
I took off, with some effort, and it didn't take long before I was high enough to rely on wind and updrafts to ease my flight. After that, it was smooth sailing all the way to the shuttle pad. I passed the skyscrapers in seconds, was in the forest just as quickly, and it was nothing but clear skies and beautiful views before I reached the coordinates Isola sent me.
How did she find those, anyway? I might have to ask.
It took me a while, but I was nothing if I wasn't tough. After enough time, I could begin to make out the gray peaks of a mountain range in the distance. I wasn't even sure Venlil Prime had those.
I didn't see anything special at first, even with my sharp vision. Hell, I could barely see the road after so many years without maintenance. It was practically overgrown by now. I closed on the coordinates, finally making out the gray of a shuttle hangar against the gray of the nearby mountain range, before some idiot shot at me from below.
Three-round bursts. Automatic weapon. The shooter's probably camouflaged above the tree line.
I tucked my wings and rolled, losing altitude fast, pretending as if I had been shot. I even yanked a few feathers free and scattered them to give the illusion of a bullet impact.
Yeah, that probably won't do anything, but I've always had a flair for the dramatic.
I landed fast and hard on the forest floor, drawing my pistol and searching. In the distance, not too far away, there was a hangar door and a dirt road leading up to it. I saw it through even all the thick underbrush of the place, because it was a really big type of shuttle, and I heard a few voices as well. Mercenaries, most likely.
They were approaching my position. Must've seen where I fell, and now they were confirming the kill. I could see three armed Venlil heading toward me, cautious but still entirely oblivious.
Okay, let's think here. They don't know I'm alive. They don't know where I'm hiding. I'll take them out one by one.
I crouched by a tree, waiting for the mercenaries to get close enough to act. I holstered my weapon, opting instead for the element of surprise. No weapons. They make too much noise. Just claws.
There's one... two... where's three? I looked around. I heard a twig snap a short distance behind me. There's three.
Footsteps. Closing. So close, now. I lied in wait like some kind of ambush hunter, crouching down like a coiled spring, until I saw a black-furred shape appear in my view.
Three feet away. Five and a half feet tall. Lightly armed. Totally oblivious. He swept the forest with his rifle, moving slowly and tactically, but it wasn't doing him any good at the moment. He had no idea what was coming.
I sprang from my cover the second he looked away, knocking him to the ground with a sweep of my leg and cutting out his throat at the same time. It wasn't pretty, killing never was, but I did it easily enough. One down. Two to go.
The second one wasn't much harder. The bushes were thick, thick enough that I couldn't move in them without creating noise, but he and his friend were making just as much so I just stayed low and did my job. Swept his legs, cut his jugular, light work all around.
The third guy was smart, though. Really smart, because he started booking it back to home base the second his friends stopped responding. Clearly, he wasn't getting paid very much.
Unfortunately, there was nobody else left outside. I shot him. I never did get how some people got used to that.
Now, it was time to go inside. There was a side door next to the main one, unguarded of course, and I entered it. The hangar was large, but that was to be expected. Dusty, but that was also to be expected. A quick sweep of the grounds confirmed my earlier suspicions that, yep, nobody was left inside. Idiots.
I had a text from Isola. First, Heval hadn't been spotted at Federation Tower. That was bad news. Second, Sevros' men were ten minutes out. That was worse. I had to work fast.
I had seen a perfect vantage point on my way here. I had an assault rifle with a poorly-attached sniper scope, courtesy of the guy who tried shooting me earlier, slung across my back. I went outside, spread my wings, and took to the skies.
This was going to be over quickly.
I saw movement on the road not long after. I was in a perfect sniper's nest, concealed by foliage and with a good vantage point to the road, and I waited until they reached a part without much cover before I began firing.
There were three vehicles, and my sniper's nest gave me a good vantage point on all three. Two were exterminator trucks, and their complements of hired muscle were all exposed in the flatbeds. The other was an exterminator van, much less exposed and in the center of the convoy. Sevros' vehicle.
I shot that one first, popping a tire and sending it skidding to a halt. The rear truck crashed into it, damaging them both, and I triple-tapped most of the goons in its flatbed before they could do anything. The forward vehicle stopped, a stupid call given the situation, and I shot out its tires before putting down the machine-gunner who had stayed in the flatbed. Everybody else had bailed out.
There were only a few goons left now. No more than ten, by my guess. They were all taking cover by the trucks, looking for me to no avail, and I lined up a shot on one of them on the other side of the convoy.
It worked. They seemed to think I was shooting from the opposite direction of where I actually was, despite the fact that the body fell the wrong way, but Venlil muscle men were hardly the smartest of the bunch. They practically fell over themselves to get to my side of the convoy, inadvertently leaving them completely without cover.
To borrow a human idiom, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.
The entire security force was cleared out in three minutes, barring a few stragglers. None of them had ever faced a sniper before, and they seemed content to huddle in places where I had already tried and failed to shoot them. I could wait until Isola's people got here, they weren't far out, but I really didn't want to.
If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Especially in this economy.
I flew from my sniper's nest like I had places to be, which I did, and I landed hard and fast next to the middle van. I cleared the outside of it first, taking out whatever goons I'd been too preoccupied to shoot earlier, before my attention was grabbed by a door opening at the back of the van.
More goons. Great.
The first one to come out got two in the head. So did the second one, as I advanced to clear the inside. I moved quickly, a bit sloppy too, and a brown paw shoved my rifle to the side. "You son of a bitch!"
Excuse me? I'm a woman, I'll have you know.
I ducked and rolled as a fist flew at my head, only to catch another one to the beak in a nasty uppercut when I did. I dropped my rifle, not by choice, which was kind of stupid looking back. Hindsight is always 20/20. I countered with a leg kick followed by another to the liver, which he shrugged off like last time.
Well, it's clear fighting normally doesn't work. Guess I'll just have to fight dirty.
I jabbed at his face, blocked another punch, and scooped up some dirt with my leg to throw in his eyes. It worked, he was blinded for half a second, and I kicked him in the face. Straight in the eye socket, too. That's gotta hurt. I'd feel bad if he wasn't such an asshole.
He stumbled backwards a few steps and reached in the van for a weapon. Wait a minute. I have a gun, too! I was practically surrounded by them.
I grabbed the rifle on the ground with my leg, shooting out Heval's legs in the process. He fell and rolled, pistol in paw, but I kicked it away and tossed the rifle up to my wings. I caught it and leveled it at his head. "You give?"
Heval looked to his right. Sevros sat pressed against the far end of the van, looking positively terrified. Hell, I couldn't blame him. "Does he give up?" I asked. Sevros was too afraid to answer.
"Fine, then." I kicked Heval in the face, then a paw swept my other leg and I fell. Another paw grabbed my rifle, he jumped on top of me and pinned my wing under his leg, and then he started choking my lights out. It all took, like, three seconds, too. God damn, that guy is good. Next time, I'm just shooting him.
If there was a next time. Judging by where I was at the moment, there probably wouldn't be.
I tried clawing at his liver, but his other paw grabbed my wing and held it tight to the ground. I was effectively paralyzed, and I couldn't do anything about it either. I probably didn't have much air left, too, now that I thought about it. My lungs were starting to hurt.
"This time, I'll finish the goddamn job," he snarled. Whatever snappy retort I would've made died pretty quickly in my airless throat. Choking to death was really not a good way to die.
Well, none of them are really good ways to die. This one just sucks more than most.
I clawed at what I assumed was Heval's hamstring, then his wrist, but that didn't do much more than make him mad. Plus, I was really running out of air, and he was bleeding on my legs from where I shot him.
Yeah, that's going to be a problem. Venlil blood is impossible to get out of your feathers these days.
To add insult to injury, or injury to insult, he pinned my wing with his leg and started punching me in the goddamn face. That was never a good thing to be on the receiving end of.
"Just-" punch "You-" punch "Die-" punch "You-" punch "Little-" I didn't hear what came next. That was probably because I was running out of oxygen.
Well, I figure nobody lives forever. As lives go, I think I've had a good one so far. I have no regrets.
Well, maybe a few, but nobody's perfect.
A gunshot. One. The grip on my throat slackened. I sprang into action, locking us together and rolling on top of him, but it really wasn't necessary.
Heval was dead. "Well, I see you were busy today," Isola's voice came from behind me.
"Whatever they're paying me, it's not brahking enough." I really wasn't sure on that end. My salary, if you included all the bonuses I got from putting in work and subtracted all the deductions I got for not being a head-up-my-ass brain-dead robot like I was supposed to, was never that consistent.
"Now, as to this bitch," I gestured toward Sevros, who was shooting a glare at me. "Come on, Isola." I stood up, unarmed for now. It really didn't matter, though, because it was over. I had won.
You know what? Screw it. I'm throwing the most kickass party once I get back. I deserve it.
"Isola?" Sevros asked. Yeah, that's what I said. I'm so glad you're not going deaf. There was the faintest glimmer of hope on his features for a moment. Does he know someone else named Isola? What? Then she stepped into his view, gun held sideways at his head, and his expression switched to sheer and utter confusion. "What? Why?"
Not terror, that came later. Confusion. Betrayal, almost. Hope at hearing her name, then confusion at seeing her point a gun at his face. Why would he be confused? "Put these cuffs on," said Isola, tossing him a pair. He just stammered gibberish. Why would he be confused?
"I gave you what you wanted."
Six words, and everything fell down.
Six words filled in six hundred blanks.
Oh, hell.
Isola's the spy.
I wheeled, quick, but Isola was quicker. She jabbed an injector to my neck and I went down like a brick. Paralyzed. Can't move a muscle. Pretty uncomfortable spot to be paralyzed in, too.
"Why?" I choked out. That took way more effort than it should have.
"He offered to free my brother from the facility. Made good on the deal, too."
Oh. Well, at least the motivation makes sense.
Really, I was in shock from this whole thing. I couldn't even bring myself to get angry, I was so surprised. Even with everything spelled out in front of me, with the evidence of her crimes as clear as a Nishtal sunrise, a part of me still didn't believe it was real.
I silenced that part. It was very clearly wrong.
Isola sold me out. She sold us all out. How many people died for one brahking Yotul?
When I got my claws on her and Onsel, it wouldn't be pretty. I could swear by that much.
"Unfortunately, he blabbed before I could get to him," Isola explained. I knew that! Sevros started yelling something about 'upholding the deal', and Isola turned and shot him three times.
Or, at least, I thought she did. My view wasn't all too great from being face down on the ground. Isola must've guessed that, too, because she at least had the kindness to flip me around. "I really didn't want to do this, you know. I'm sorry that it had to be this way."
She aimed her gun at my head. I still couldn't move one bit. "You're an exterminator. Think of this as justice." She's trying to justify it. To who? Me, or her?
I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I didn't scream, nor did I close my eyes and wait. It would be better to see the end coming. "I'm sorry, Jelim," she said, gun unwavering in her paw as she spoke. She didn't look very sorry.
"No witnesses."
First Previous R.I.P. sevros ik he looking up at us rn🙏🙏
submitted by ApprehensiveCap6525 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
CW: vietnamese sniper nest, jelim gets really high, jelim is misgendered at least once, properly foreshadowed plot twist, Prestige Exterminator Vrapic
Memory Transcription Subject: Jelim, Extermination Commander
Date (standardized human time): September 21, 2136
I was really not built to take breaks. I rarely ever did, but I couldn't really tell if that was the cause or the symptom of my not-quite-a-problem.
Well, sometimes it was a problem. I knew Jack would've liked it if I took more time off for my personal life. But, on the other branch, I had a lot of plaques on my office wall back at the district. Couldn't get that if I kept slacking off.
Well, technically, I wasn't slacking off. Technically, I was healing from the ass-beating I had gotten from Heval a little while. Yeah, I'd say I'm good as new by now. Pride's still bruised, though. But, still, people were dying. I should've been out there.
The news broadcast in my hospital bed turned off. That was a shame. It was the one thing I liked looking at in this sterile and soulless room.
Okay, let's take inventory here. We've got... let's see... we've got a wall... another wall... ooh, that one has a window, but yep, still mostly wall. All white, too. You know, it wouldn't kill these people to add in a splash of red or green in here.
"Okay, Jelim, focus up." I turned to look at the door.
Isola stood in it.
Oh. That's unexpected.
"Why the hell are you alive?" I snapped. Okay, maybe not the best way to start a conversation. "And where the hell have you been?"
Now, that's an important question. Good on you, Jelim. You should ask those more often.
She walked into the room, closing the door behind her. "First of all, that's not important. And second of all, I did some snooping. That's why I say you have to focus up." Oh, I was focusing.
"Well, first of all, that is important." It was. But it could be discussed later. "But, as to the second part, I'm all ears." There was nothing she could say that I hadn't already heard.
"Sevros is going to get away." Oh. There was. That was a new one. "I know it. His shuttle is being prepared for launch right now."
God damn. How does she know this stuff?
"He's stored the shuttle at an abandoned hangar in the mountains, his convoy is on its way there right now," said Isola. "If we go fast, we can catch them."
"How, exactly, do you know this?" I asked.
"You think you're the only one who can talk to Salvek?" Oh. That made a lot of sense, actually. "I'm a lot smarter than I usually get credit for." And a lot more arrogant, apparently.
"Your results should speak for themselves, Isola." I waved a wing at the far wall, where my bodyguards had put up my fifth 'Valor Under Fire' award until I could hang it in my office. "Like that."
"Fair point," she conceded. "Now, let's go. We don't have any time to waste."
I sighed, smoothed out a few feathers, and hopped out of my hospital bed. If I'm going to be wrapping this whole thing up, I'd better look nice in the process. "I'll go ahead and secure the shuttle bay, you drum up whatever force you can spare to finish this off." I was already making a plan, a pretty good one too if I do say so myself, and I was out the door in seconds.
"I'll send the location to your pad!" Isola exclaimed before we parted ways. She could probably find Karelim and a few others, if everybody wasn't already fighting in Federation Tower.
I knew those idiots should've held some officers in reserve! I could've told them as much, too, but they didn't brahking listen. I swear to god, this Guild is going to drive me off the deep end one day.
I found the stairwell, waved off all the hospital workers I found, and jumped over the railing to land gracefully on the bottom floor. I love my wings. I was in the basement. Never mind.
Well, better get to work. There's got to be a ramp here somewhere.
I left the stairwell to find myself in a hospital parking garage that was mostly empty of cars, with an extermination van pulling in via a ramp. Oh. Great! Reinforcements!
I ran over to the vehicle, waving a wing in the air, but I stopped in my tracks when I saw who was driving it. Oh. Great. Racists. "Didn't I send people to arrest you?" I asked, patting my hip for a sidearm that I hoped I wouldn't have to use.
"You did. I want to know why."
"Officer Kern advised me-" He cut me off. Yep. I already know where this is going.
"And you believed him?" Vrapic scoffed. "Him, a predator, a creature built on violence and lies?"
I shrugged. "He's been pretty straightforward so far."
"You are a danger to the people of Dayside City, Jelim." Oh, you say that again. Say that again, and see what happens. "You've allowed yourself to become tainted by a predator, and I can't allow that."
I put my claw on the butt of my pistol. "And what, exactly, are you going to do to stop me?" I could deny the accusation, but we both knew that wouldn't work on his type. God, I hope I won't have to kill him.
He also carried a pistol. I did not want to use mine. I stepped closer to the van. "You stay back!" He drew his gun. I took another step. He fired once at my feet. "Put on the cuffs, or your brain paints the floor." He tossed a pair of handcuffs at my feet.
Only one? Dumbass.
"Well, you've got me," I sighed. I unclipped my holster and tossed it away before bending over to put on my handcuffs. "What now?" I gave a pitiful two-clawed wave.
"Get in the van." God damn, you really are stupid, aren't you?
I took a few sheepish steps forward, feigning cooperation until I got within claw's reach of his gun. Then, in a flash, I grabbed his wrist with both claws and pushed it up and away from my head. He didn't fire.
So he doesn't have it in him to shoot. Good. That's good. It means he's not too far gone.
I was getting old, as exterminators went. Vrapic was supposed to be my replacement. I had been training him for years to turn out more or less like me. Funny how that turned out, huh? At the moment, however, I was kicking him in the chest. Sometimes, things didn't go as planned.
I kicked once in the chest and once in the liver for a nasty two-piece combo, sending him doubled over and gasping in time for a nasty shot to the head.
Not from my gun, of course, but God damn it must've felt like it. My kicks were brahking lethal. I wasn't even exaggerating that much.
Vrapic dropped like a two-hundred-pound sack of bricks. Stay down, dog. Next time, don't bite the hand that feeds you. I really needed to write some of these one-liners down. Or maybe start saying them out loud. Either one was good.
Anyway, I had work to do. I did a brief check on the response team, which was going well, and I went outside. It was a beautiful day out. Not very windy. The sun was high in the sky, too, which it usually was in a place like this.
Usually? Hell, try always. I brahking hate this planet sometimes.
The gravity felt heavy on my oh-so-fragile bird bones. It always did. That was why no Krakotl I knew could manage to fly on this planet.
Quite frankly, most of the Krakotl I knew were lazy.
I took off, with some effort, and it didn't take long before I was high enough to rely on wind and updrafts to ease my flight. After that, it was smooth sailing all the way to the shuttle pad. I passed the skyscrapers in seconds, was in the forest just as quickly, and it was nothing but clear skies and beautiful views before I reached the coordinates Isola sent me.
How did she find those, anyway? I might have to ask.
It took me a while, but I was nothing if I wasn't tough. After enough time, I could begin to make out the gray peaks of a mountain range in the distance. I wasn't even sure Venlil Prime had those.
I didn't see anything special at first, even with my sharp vision. Hell, I could barely see the road after so many years without maintenance. It was practically overgrown by now. I closed on the coordinates, finally making out the gray of a shuttle hangar against the gray of the nearby mountain range, before some idiot shot at me from below.
Three-round bursts. Automatic weapon. The shooter's probably camouflaged above the tree line.
I tucked my wings and rolled, losing altitude fast, pretending as if I had been shot. I even yanked a few feathers free and scattered them to give the illusion of a bullet impact.
Yeah, that probably won't do anything, but I've always had a flair for the dramatic.
I landed fast and hard on the forest floor, drawing my pistol and searching. In the distance, not too far away, there was a hangar door and a dirt road leading up to it. I saw it through even all the thick underbrush of the place, because it was a really big type of shuttle, and I heard a few voices as well. Mercenaries, most likely.
They were approaching my position. Must've seen where I fell, and now they were confirming the kill. I could see three armed Venlil heading toward me, cautious but still entirely oblivious.
Okay, let's think here. They don't know I'm alive. They don't know where I'm hiding. I'll take them out one by one.
I crouched by a tree, waiting for the mercenaries to get close enough to act. I holstered my weapon, opting instead for the element of surprise. No weapons. They make too much noise. Just claws.
There's one... two... where's three? I looked around. I heard a twig snap a short distance behind me. There's three.
Footsteps. Closing. So close, now. I lied in wait like some kind of ambush hunter, crouching down like a coiled spring, until I saw a black-furred shape appear in my view.
Three feet away. Five and a half feet tall. Lightly armed. Totally oblivious. He swept the forest with his rifle, moving slowly and tactically, but it wasn't doing him any good at the moment. He had no idea what was coming.
I sprang from my cover the second he looked away, knocking him to the ground with a sweep of my leg and cutting out his throat at the same time. It wasn't pretty, killing never was, but I did it easily enough. One down. Two to go.
The second one wasn't much harder. The bushes were thick, thick enough that I couldn't move in them without creating noise, but he and his friend were making just as much so I just stayed low and did my job. Swept his legs, cut his jugular, light work all around.
The third guy was smart, though. Really smart, because he started booking it back to home base the second his friends stopped responding. Clearly, he wasn't getting paid very much.
Unfortunately, there was nobody else left outside. I shot him. I never did get how some people got used to that.
Now, it was time to go inside. There was a side door next to the main one, unguarded of course, and I entered it. The hangar was large, but that was to be expected. Dusty, but that was also to be expected. A quick sweep of the grounds confirmed my earlier suspicions that, yep, nobody was left inside. Idiots.
I had a text from Isola. First, Heval hadn't been spotted at Federation Tower. That was bad news. Second, Sevros' men were ten minutes out. That was worse. I had to work fast.
I had seen a perfect vantage point on my way here. I had an assault rifle with a poorly-attached sniper scope, courtesy of the guy who tried shooting me earlier, slung across my back. I went outside, spread my wings, and took to the skies.
This was going to be over quickly.
I saw movement on the road not long after. I was in a perfect sniper's nest, concealed by foliage and with a good vantage point to the road, and I waited until they reached a part without much cover before I began firing.
There were three vehicles, and my sniper's nest gave me a good vantage point on all three. Two were exterminator trucks, and their complements of hired muscle were all exposed in the flatbeds. The other was an exterminator van, much less exposed and in the center of the convoy. Sevros' vehicle.
I shot that one first, popping a tire and sending it skidding to a halt. The rear truck crashed into it, damaging them both, and I triple-tapped most of the goons in its flatbed before they could do anything. The forward vehicle stopped, a stupid call given the situation, and I shot out its tires before putting down the machine-gunner who had stayed in the flatbed. Everybody else had bailed out.
There were only a few goons left now. No more than ten, by my guess. They were all taking cover by the trucks, looking for me to no avail, and I lined up a shot on one of them on the other side of the convoy.
It worked. They seemed to think I was shooting from the opposite direction of where I actually was, despite the fact that the body fell the wrong way, but Venlil muscle men were hardly the smartest of the bunch. They practically fell over themselves to get to my side of the convoy, inadvertently leaving them completely without cover.
To borrow a human idiom, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.
The entire security force was cleared out in three minutes, barring a few stragglers. None of them had ever faced a sniper before, and they seemed content to huddle in places where I had already tried and failed to shoot them. I could wait until Isola's people got here, they weren't far out, but I really didn't want to.
If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Especially in this economy.
I flew from my sniper's nest like I had places to be, which I did, and I landed hard and fast next to the middle van. I cleared the outside of it first, taking out whatever goons I'd been too preoccupied to shoot earlier, before my attention was grabbed by a door opening at the back of the van.
More goons. Great.
The first one to come out got two in the head. So did the second one, as I advanced to clear the inside. I moved quickly, a bit sloppy too, and a brown paw shoved my rifle to the side. "You son of a bitch!"
Excuse me? I'm a woman, I'll have you know.
I ducked and rolled as a fist flew at my head, only to catch another one to the beak in a nasty uppercut when I did. I dropped my rifle, not by choice, which was kind of stupid looking back. Hindsight is always 20/20. I countered with a leg kick followed by another to the liver, which he shrugged off like last time.
Well, it's clear fighting normally doesn't work. Guess I'll just have to fight dirty.
I jabbed at his face, blocked another punch, and scooped up some dirt with my leg to throw in his eyes. It worked, he was blinded for half a second, and I kicked him in the face. Straight in the eye socket, too. That's gotta hurt. I'd feel bad if he wasn't such an asshole.
He stumbled backwards a few steps and reached in the van for a weapon. Wait a minute. I have a gun, too! I was practically surrounded by them.
I grabbed the rifle on the ground with my leg, shooting out Heval's legs in the process. He fell and rolled, pistol in paw, but I kicked it away and tossed the rifle up to my wings. I caught it and leveled it at his head. "You give?"
Heval looked to his right. Sevros sat pressed against the far end of the van, looking positively terrified. Hell, I couldn't blame him. "Does he give up?" I asked. Sevros was too afraid to answer.
"Fine, then." I kicked Heval in the face, then a paw swept my other leg and I fell. Another paw grabbed my rifle, he jumped on top of me and pinned my wing under his leg, and then he started choking my lights out. It all took, like, three seconds, too. God damn, that guy is good. Next time, I'm just shooting him.
If there was a next time. Judging by where I was at the moment, there probably wouldn't be.
I tried clawing at his liver, but his other paw grabbed my wing and held it tight to the ground. I was effectively paralyzed, and I couldn't do anything about it either. I probably didn't have much air left, too, now that I thought about it. My lungs were starting to hurt.
"This time, I'll finish the goddamn job," he snarled. Whatever snappy retort I would've made died pretty quickly in my airless throat. Choking to death was really not a good way to die.
Well, none of them are really good ways to die. This one just sucks more than most.
I clawed at what I assumed was Heval's hamstring, then his wrist, but that didn't do much more than make him mad. Plus, I was really running out of air, and he was bleeding on my legs from where I shot him.
Yeah, that's going to be a problem. Venlil blood is impossible to get out of your feathers these days.
To add insult to injury, or injury to insult, he pinned my wing with his leg and started punching me in the goddamn face. That was never a good thing to be on the receiving end of.
"Just-" punch "You-" punch "Die-" punch "You-" punch "Little-" I didn't hear what came next. That was probably because I was running out of oxygen.
Well, I figure nobody lives forever. As lives go, I think I've had a good one so far. I have no regrets.
Well, maybe a few, but nobody's perfect.
A gunshot. One. The grip on my throat slackened. I sprang into action, locking us together and rolling on top of him, but it really wasn't necessary.
Heval was dead. "Well, I see you were busy today," Isola's voice came from behind me.
"Whatever they're paying me, it's not brahking enough." I really wasn't sure on that end. My salary, if you included all the bonuses I got from putting in work and subtracted all the deductions I got for not being a head-up-my-ass brain-dead robot like I was supposed to, was never that consistent.
"Now, as to this bitch," I gestured toward Sevros, who was shooting a glare at me. "Come on, Isola." I stood up, unarmed for now. It really didn't matter, though, because it was over. I had won.
You know what? Screw it. I'm throwing the most kickass party once I get back. I deserve it.
"Isola?" Sevros asked. Yeah, that's what I said. I'm so glad you're not going deaf. There was the faintest glimmer of hope on his features for a moment. Does he know someone else named Isola? What? Then she stepped into his view, gun held sideways at his head, and his expression switched to sheer and utter confusion. "What? Why?"
Not terror, that came later. Confusion. Betrayal, almost. Hope at hearing her name, then confusion at seeing her point a gun at his face. Why would he be confused? "Put these cuffs on," said Isola, tossing him a pair. He just stammered gibberish. Why would he be confused?
"I gave you what you wanted."
Six words, and everything fell down.
Six words filled in six hundred blanks.
Oh, hell.
Isola's the spy.
I wheeled, quick, but Isola was quicker. She jabbed an injector to my neck and I went down like a brick. Paralyzed. Can't move a muscle. Pretty uncomfortable spot to be paralyzed in, too.
"Why?" I choked out. That took way more effort than it should have.
"He offered to free my brother from the facility. Made good on the deal, too."
Oh. Well, at least the motivation makes sense.
Really, I was in shock from this whole thing. I couldn't even bring myself to get angry, I was so surprised. Even with everything spelled out in front of me, with the evidence of her crimes as clear as a Nishtal sunrise, a part of me still didn't believe it was real.
I silenced that part. It was very clearly wrong.
Isola sold me out. She sold us all out. How many people died for one brahking Yotul?
When I got my claws on her and Onsel, it wouldn't be pretty. I could swear by that much.
"Unfortunately, he blabbed before I could get to him," Isola explained. I knew that! Sevros started yelling something about 'upholding the deal', and Isola turned and shot him three times.
Or, at least, I thought she did. My view wasn't all too great from being face down on the ground. Isola must've guessed that, too, because she at least had the kindness to flip me around. "I really didn't want to do this, you know. I'm sorry that it had to be this way."
She aimed her gun at my head. I still couldn't move one bit. "You're an exterminator. Think of this as justice." She's trying to justify it. To who? Me, or her?
I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I didn't scream, nor did I close my eyes and wait. It would be better to see the end coming. "I'm sorry, Jelim," she said, gun unwavering in her paw as she spoke. She didn't look very sorry.
"No witnesses."
First Previous R.I.P. sevros ik he looking up at us rn🙏🙏
2024.05.07 02:59 DragonStryk72 Incremental Improvement (Part 53)
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Well, she didn't kill me, not even when I snatched John's sidearm out of the holster and laid it in front of her grip-first, "I won't fight you, I won't even move from this spot. Right here, right now, here's your best shot to stop me."
John and Amathie both froze, and I held out a hand to stop John from acting. Just saying 'You better kill me' is something far different than saying it and then handing them the loaded murder weapon. Anansi picked up the gun, and clicked off the safety, and her eyes became unfocused for a moment, after which she set the gun back down, "You are not bluffing."
John retrieved his firearm and gave me a look, while Anansi said something to Amathie, and they both got up, Amathie thanking me, and sent me a link so we could trade recipes later. They retrieved their coats, and departed. I looked at John, "'Nother coffee?"
He watched as I calmly got up and made another coffee for myself, "No... thanks.... You really would've let her kill you."
I paused, and sighed, "The night of the raids, I got 1% better at accepting the idea of my death for a higher cause. It's not a threat to me anymore, it's just how my life ends. It's like in Hamilton: 'I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory'. One way or another, from everything I know and understand, I won't live long enough to make it to being old, John."
He sat there for a time, almost saying something, trying to counter the point, then failing to have any sound actually come out, "Goodnight, John. I got work to do."
John finally stood up, and took his own leave. I sat at the counter for a bit, then did the dishes, and went to sleep, but dawn saw me awake again. I got up, made breakfast, and sat down to work out my new advancement plan.
Okay, let's break it down: Psychic, Magic, and Chi Manipulation. Magic was broken up into a number of different disciplines and sources. Pretty easy to get, you have various schools of magic, specialization, traditions, and then there's the difference between inherent casters and learned casters. Inherent casters were like Sabrina, they simply had access once the power was awakened, but on the other side of it, you had those who educated themselves, and got access to power from another source. Knowing wasn't enough, you had to have a source of magic to pull from, just like any powered device, no power, and it doesn't work. This bore larger considerations, because it would mean tying myself with someone else. It could be earth-shatteringly powerful, but took work and in my case, essentially allowing someone else to have power over me... unless...
By its nature, Virtus was magical, specifically falling under Artificing. Artificing wasn't much used, even once you considered how rare caster-types were in the first place. It was far easier to just cast the magic yourself without having to learn serious crafting skills. So cut down that number of casters by how many of them very seriously want to be the world's greatest crafter, rather than just learn the spells themselves. Crafting yourself was an absolute necessity, since you had to imbue the object with magical energy as it was being created. Thing is, though, I'm not bound by that stricture. I can be the world's greatest crafter, 1% at a time.
Okay, so artificing... and I already have one magical artifact, so I would just need the ability to imbue magic. I didn't need spells, I just needed the capacity to channel magical energies, and any inherent caster could teach me that. I'm certain there's more to it than that, but that level worked for my purposes in the here and now. I sent off a message to Sabrina to let her know I needed to talk when she had a minute.
Next, we have Psychic. Psychic abilities required an expansion of the human mind to be able to use them. This generally meant years of intensive study from people who already had strong wills, and disciplined minds. I had a shortcut here with regards to having Technopathy and the Liminal Space ability. I was already moving forward here, and there were other abilities I would want as I came along. I revisited my Sync ability, and how it had increased all the various powers around it. It was a 'sympathetic' power, so my general thinking is that I should be looking at sympathetic abilities to work on. First, however, some basics.... I still don't like the idea of telepathy. Yeah, it can get broken, but sooner or later I'm hearing all the collective thoughts of humanity, and I'm really not certain I want that.... maybe focused on tactile telepathy? There were certainly powers like that, such as Tim's Psychometry, the ability to touch objects and read the psychic impressions of them. I already knew Kinetics was going to be a big one, so I'd need some time with Push.
Okay, and that leaves Chi Manipulation. The reality is, it's like Psychic, but for the body. If Magic was channeling the exterior energy, and Psychic was the channeled power of the mind, Chi Manipulation was the channeled power of the body and soul, but it took rigorous training, like think Navy SEALs training, and then start stepping it up. That's the 'I might have a shot at this' level. Masters could do some wild stuff with it, like Sprit Fox, who could manifest an actual fox focused from his harnessed energies that you needed mecha to get into the same weight class of. Again, S-Tiers are nations unto themselves.
Psychic and Magic were my main concerns in the moment. I was pretty-well settled on using artifice, since it had the extra point of my being able to dole out artifacts as opposed to being locked to just myself. No matter how powerful I got, I was just me, and I had to start changing the game, moving from myself as the chief instigator of everything. It's what my dad had said about planned obsolence, that the whole game had to be to get to a point where I was completely unnecessary to moving forward with things. And now, we get to start working on the Psychic stuff.
I had a particular plan as far as Psychic, and Prodigy had arrived in Portland while I was at the court yesterday, so now, I could begin working on some stuff. Speaking of working on stuff for myself, I found a whole chain of online CLEP courses so I could start knocking out college credits. I figured I might as well at this point, and with a host of online universities, and access to PSU, I had my pick of the litter. I put in the call to Prodigy, who was ready to go as soon as I was, and gave him the address. I had a limited window with everything going on, and I couldn't stay on leave of absence for that long. I had to get this together.
Before Prodigy got here, I needed to get a few things together, plus snacks and drinks, so I took care of that stuff until I got the buzz from down below. Prodigy had arrived, and I buzzed him in, meeting him at the door. He was... not what I expected. In imagining a 'super-teacher', certain imagery presented itself. Austerity, wearing a shirt and tie, maybe with one of those cardigan/vest combos, and one of those highly groomed beards. What I got was anything but that: He was heavyset, but wore a sleeveless "For Those About to Rock" T-shirt, jeans that looked liked lost several fights, and a trucker hat, and beard that screamed 'ask my about my favorite metal covers', "Y'all must be Marcus. Call me Donny. Let's get 'er goin'."
I let him in, and when I asked what he wanted to drink, he went straight for Dr. Pepper. I was going to need to be revising my estimation of this whole thing, "Alright, now if'n I'm hearin' right, yer power's the 1% thing. Let's start it up by you layin' it all out for me."
He broke out a tube of candy coated sunflower seeds as I spoke, "Okay, so the essentials of it are this: I incrementally improve at kind of everything, all the time. I don't know what I don't know, but everything keeps advancing, so it's more like if you had a penny, and it got 1% interest in value every second. That was the example my buddy Darryl came up with when I first got the power, and it still translates well enough for our purposes, but now imagine I keep getting more pennies, and those pennies starting get the same incremental improvement."
Donny (Thinking of him as Prodigy was now ridiculous. His H.A.A. photo had him in his supersuit.) nodded, "'K, I know what our first step in trainin' ya is. Y'need Darryl here."
I blinked. I mean, I hadn't really gotten proper time with Darryl since this whole authority thing kicked off, and I desperately wanted hang time, "Uh, he's in school right now."
He shrugged, "Well get 'im the heck out. Hell, I'm an accredited teacher with the academy, so we can just call it a special program or some such, and that'll get 'im the credit he needs. Pretty sure I can keep 'im ahead o' his classes."
I called Darryl, who excused himself from class to take the call, "What's up? Tell me it's a supervillain fight! I can be there... well, I mean, I'd be hopping Tri-Met, but-"
Let's make it quick, "Nope. It's more of a montage thing, and according to my new mentor, I need you here."
I could hear him powerfisting on the other end, "Yeah, sure, just let me call my mom. Can you pick me up?"
"Sure. We can be there in about fifteen minutes. Let your dad know you'll we be working on a special academy program."
Okay, that down, I regarded Donny, "Okay, so I guess we start with what I want to learn: I want to learn your power. I need to learn to teach with your power."
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submitted by DragonStryk72 to HFY [link] [comments]
Well, she didn't kill me, not even when I snatched John's sidearm out of the holster and laid it in front of her grip-first, "I won't fight you, I won't even move from this spot. Right here, right now, here's your best shot to stop me."
John and Amathie both froze, and I held out a hand to stop John from acting. Just saying 'You better kill me' is something far different than saying it and then handing them the loaded murder weapon. Anansi picked up the gun, and clicked off the safety, and her eyes became unfocused for a moment, after which she set the gun back down, "You are not bluffing."
John retrieved his firearm and gave me a look, while Anansi said something to Amathie, and they both got up, Amathie thanking me, and sent me a link so we could trade recipes later. They retrieved their coats, and departed. I looked at John, "'Nother coffee?"
He watched as I calmly got up and made another coffee for myself, "No... thanks.... You really would've let her kill you."
I paused, and sighed, "The night of the raids, I got 1% better at accepting the idea of my death for a higher cause. It's not a threat to me anymore, it's just how my life ends. It's like in Hamilton: 'I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory'. One way or another, from everything I know and understand, I won't live long enough to make it to being old, John."
He sat there for a time, almost saying something, trying to counter the point, then failing to have any sound actually come out, "Goodnight, John. I got work to do."
John finally stood up, and took his own leave. I sat at the counter for a bit, then did the dishes, and went to sleep, but dawn saw me awake again. I got up, made breakfast, and sat down to work out my new advancement plan.
Okay, let's break it down: Psychic, Magic, and Chi Manipulation. Magic was broken up into a number of different disciplines and sources. Pretty easy to get, you have various schools of magic, specialization, traditions, and then there's the difference between inherent casters and learned casters. Inherent casters were like Sabrina, they simply had access once the power was awakened, but on the other side of it, you had those who educated themselves, and got access to power from another source. Knowing wasn't enough, you had to have a source of magic to pull from, just like any powered device, no power, and it doesn't work. This bore larger considerations, because it would mean tying myself with someone else. It could be earth-shatteringly powerful, but took work and in my case, essentially allowing someone else to have power over me... unless...
By its nature, Virtus was magical, specifically falling under Artificing. Artificing wasn't much used, even once you considered how rare caster-types were in the first place. It was far easier to just cast the magic yourself without having to learn serious crafting skills. So cut down that number of casters by how many of them very seriously want to be the world's greatest crafter, rather than just learn the spells themselves. Crafting yourself was an absolute necessity, since you had to imbue the object with magical energy as it was being created. Thing is, though, I'm not bound by that stricture. I can be the world's greatest crafter, 1% at a time.
Okay, so artificing... and I already have one magical artifact, so I would just need the ability to imbue magic. I didn't need spells, I just needed the capacity to channel magical energies, and any inherent caster could teach me that. I'm certain there's more to it than that, but that level worked for my purposes in the here and now. I sent off a message to Sabrina to let her know I needed to talk when she had a minute.
Next, we have Psychic. Psychic abilities required an expansion of the human mind to be able to use them. This generally meant years of intensive study from people who already had strong wills, and disciplined minds. I had a shortcut here with regards to having Technopathy and the Liminal Space ability. I was already moving forward here, and there were other abilities I would want as I came along. I revisited my Sync ability, and how it had increased all the various powers around it. It was a 'sympathetic' power, so my general thinking is that I should be looking at sympathetic abilities to work on. First, however, some basics.... I still don't like the idea of telepathy. Yeah, it can get broken, but sooner or later I'm hearing all the collective thoughts of humanity, and I'm really not certain I want that.... maybe focused on tactile telepathy? There were certainly powers like that, such as Tim's Psychometry, the ability to touch objects and read the psychic impressions of them. I already knew Kinetics was going to be a big one, so I'd need some time with Push.
Okay, and that leaves Chi Manipulation. The reality is, it's like Psychic, but for the body. If Magic was channeling the exterior energy, and Psychic was the channeled power of the mind, Chi Manipulation was the channeled power of the body and soul, but it took rigorous training, like think Navy SEALs training, and then start stepping it up. That's the 'I might have a shot at this' level. Masters could do some wild stuff with it, like Sprit Fox, who could manifest an actual fox focused from his harnessed energies that you needed mecha to get into the same weight class of. Again, S-Tiers are nations unto themselves.
Psychic and Magic were my main concerns in the moment. I was pretty-well settled on using artifice, since it had the extra point of my being able to dole out artifacts as opposed to being locked to just myself. No matter how powerful I got, I was just me, and I had to start changing the game, moving from myself as the chief instigator of everything. It's what my dad had said about planned obsolence, that the whole game had to be to get to a point where I was completely unnecessary to moving forward with things. And now, we get to start working on the Psychic stuff.
I had a particular plan as far as Psychic, and Prodigy had arrived in Portland while I was at the court yesterday, so now, I could begin working on some stuff. Speaking of working on stuff for myself, I found a whole chain of online CLEP courses so I could start knocking out college credits. I figured I might as well at this point, and with a host of online universities, and access to PSU, I had my pick of the litter. I put in the call to Prodigy, who was ready to go as soon as I was, and gave him the address. I had a limited window with everything going on, and I couldn't stay on leave of absence for that long. I had to get this together.
Before Prodigy got here, I needed to get a few things together, plus snacks and drinks, so I took care of that stuff until I got the buzz from down below. Prodigy had arrived, and I buzzed him in, meeting him at the door. He was... not what I expected. In imagining a 'super-teacher', certain imagery presented itself. Austerity, wearing a shirt and tie, maybe with one of those cardigan/vest combos, and one of those highly groomed beards. What I got was anything but that: He was heavyset, but wore a sleeveless "For Those About to Rock" T-shirt, jeans that looked liked lost several fights, and a trucker hat, and beard that screamed 'ask my about my favorite metal covers', "Y'all must be Marcus. Call me Donny. Let's get 'er goin'."
I let him in, and when I asked what he wanted to drink, he went straight for Dr. Pepper. I was going to need to be revising my estimation of this whole thing, "Alright, now if'n I'm hearin' right, yer power's the 1% thing. Let's start it up by you layin' it all out for me."
He broke out a tube of candy coated sunflower seeds as I spoke, "Okay, so the essentials of it are this: I incrementally improve at kind of everything, all the time. I don't know what I don't know, but everything keeps advancing, so it's more like if you had a penny, and it got 1% interest in value every second. That was the example my buddy Darryl came up with when I first got the power, and it still translates well enough for our purposes, but now imagine I keep getting more pennies, and those pennies starting get the same incremental improvement."
Donny (Thinking of him as Prodigy was now ridiculous. His H.A.A. photo had him in his supersuit.) nodded, "'K, I know what our first step in trainin' ya is. Y'need Darryl here."
I blinked. I mean, I hadn't really gotten proper time with Darryl since this whole authority thing kicked off, and I desperately wanted hang time, "Uh, he's in school right now."
He shrugged, "Well get 'im the heck out. Hell, I'm an accredited teacher with the academy, so we can just call it a special program or some such, and that'll get 'im the credit he needs. Pretty sure I can keep 'im ahead o' his classes."
I called Darryl, who excused himself from class to take the call, "What's up? Tell me it's a supervillain fight! I can be there... well, I mean, I'd be hopping Tri-Met, but-"
Let's make it quick, "Nope. It's more of a montage thing, and according to my new mentor, I need you here."
I could hear him powerfisting on the other end, "Yeah, sure, just let me call my mom. Can you pick me up?"
"Sure. We can be there in about fifteen minutes. Let your dad know you'll we be working on a special academy program."
Okay, that down, I regarded Donny, "Okay, so I guess we start with what I want to learn: I want to learn your power. I need to learn to teach with your power."
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2024.05.07 02:55 beersandmiles7 Mad City 50K: The Distances Will Humble You
Race Information
- Name: Mad City Ultras 50K
- Date: April 20, 2024
- Distance: 50 Kilometers
- Location: Madison, Wisconsin
- Website: https://runsignup.com/Race/Results/122616#resultSetId-449259;perpage:100
- Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/11225408991
- Time: 3:04:04
Goals
| Goal | Description | Completed? |
|---|---|---|
| A | 2:50-52 | No |
| B | Sub 3 | No |
| C | Win | Yes |
Splits
| Mile | Time |
|---|---|
| 1 | 5:49 |
| 2 | 5:45 |
| 3 | 5:49 |
| 4 | 5:35 |
| 5 | 5:34 |
| 6 | 5:41 |
| 7 | 5:56 |
| 8 | 5:42 |
| 9 | 5:49 |
| 10 | 5:31 |
| 11 | 5:41 |
| 12 | 5:47 |
| 13 | 5:55 |
| 14 | 5:51 |
| 15 | 5:37 |
| 16 | 5:48 |
| 17 | 5:37 |
| 18 | 5:39 |
| 19 | 5:47 |
| 20 | 5:50 |
| 21 | 5:53 |
| 22 | 5:58 |
| 23 | 6:06 |
| 24 | 5:52 |
| 25 | 6:03 |
| 26 | 6:12 |
| 27 | 6:14 |
| 28 | 6:29 |
| 29 | 6:11 |
| 30 | 6:03 |
| 31 | 6:14 |
Training
Following CIM (Recap: https://www.reddit.com/AdvancedRunning/comments/18hyxcl/took_my_shot_at_the_moon_and_finished_thankful/), I took about about a week and a half off running completely. For once I didn't really have a Spring race locked up ahead of time. Since I wanted to go all-in for this trials thing I decided against signing up for Boston 2024; the first time I wouldn't sign up since I started marathoning in 2018.Immediately after CIM, I emailed the elite coordinator to inquire about the pro-development field. Unfortunately the field was full, but I was put on the wait list. I figured I would make my final decision post Olympic Trials, thinking people would most likely scratch afterwards.
My second option was USATF 50K Champs in March but after checking in with how my body was holding up 90 days post CIM, I thought it would be too quick of a turnaround. Plus, from my understanding, members of the 50K Road Team for 2025 would not be chosen from this race. So that made my decision much simpler.
My final, and most likely option would be Mad City 50K. The USATF site said that the third spot from the previous year was typically chosen for the team. So the goal would be to run under the qualifying standard (3:00) and win. Judging from past results it would probably take sub 2:55 to take the win here. Coach and I thought sub 2:52 would be possible.
My first full week of consistent running would be the week of Christmas when I was home for the holidays. It was easy to be motivated when the low temps was 50 degrees instead of the 20 back home. 58 miles on 6 days to start and then it was back to Ohio.
I spent the start of January essentially shitposting all of my runs. Chipotle had a segment challenge in my town where the prize was free chipotle for a year for the most segments on a .18 mile stretch. I had no shot of winning but I wanted to make sure my buddy didn't pack it in after gapping the field early. This lasted about a week when my coach responded to my text about potential Spring races with:
"...You'd need to get pretty serious now and prob stop running back and forth for 8 miles lol."
Noted.
The remainder of January was filled with just getting consistent miles, jumping into other people's workouts, and rehabbing this lingering glute issue. While miraculously the issue from last Fall disappeared the morning of CIM, it came back in full force as soon as I crossed the finish line. I made big improvements and was able to be start working out on the 31st.
February Miles: 324 Miles Highest Mileage Week: 86.09 (6 days)
Highlights:
Feb 3rd: 11 miles w/ 30 second pickups and then 3x 5min on the Olympic Trials Course. Splits: 5:19, 5:02, 4:56
Feb 7th: 20x 1 min @ MP/1 min uptempo (7.41 miles, 5:33 avg)
Feb 14th: 15 x 1 min on/1 min off, 16x 30 seconds on/30 seconds off (8.29 miles, 5:43 avg)
Feb 18th: 12x1k w/ 200 jog 4@ MP + 10 seconds (3:27-26-25-24) 4@ MP (3:19-19-18-19) 4@ HMP > 10k (3:10-09-07-04)
Feb 21st: 20x 1 minute on/1 minute on @ MP + 30 seconds, 5 flat mile 8.26 miles, 5:32 pace, final mile: 4:58
Feb 25th: 15x1k w/ 200 jog recovery. 5 sets at 50k pace 5 sets at MP 5 sets at HMP >
3:26-26-25-23-21 3:19-20-18-16-17 3:10-10-08-08-03
Feb 28th: 30 x 1 min/1 min@ MP +20 seconds (10.78 miles, 5:34 avg). Real feel of 22 degrees, 19 mph winds
Lowlights: Feb 11th: Epic blowup during 16 mile LR (6:14 avg), last 4 supposed to be MP, actual: 5:18, 5:23, 5:53, 5:24. Bad route to finish and massive wind. Completely unprepared and too trigger happy.
March was filled with travel. Two out of state weddings for me and long road trips at the beginning of the month.
February Miles: 341 Miles Highest Mileage Week: 90.41 miles
Highlights:
March 6th: 4x (2-2-2-2) (50k-MP-HMP-Easy)
5:30-5:16-5:00-6:49 5:26-5:22-5:04-6:42 5:29-5:15-5:04-6:31 5:26-5:13-4:59-6:36
March 13th: 6x 1 mile w/ 2 min slow jog 5:04-5:02-4:59-4:58-4:57-4:56
March 17th: 24 miles @ 6:32 avg with final 6 @ 50k Pace: 5:36, 5:29, 5:24, 5:24, 5:27, 5:25
March 31: 20 with progression at 10 starting at 6:00. 6:00 > 5:14. (6:00, 5:59, 5:47, 5:42, 5:35, 5:30, 5:25, 5:21, 5:17, 5:14)
Lowlights: March 2nd: 19.08 miles: 6:11 avg, 12 mile progression 4@5:45-50, 4@5:35-40, 4@5:15-20 Actual: Foot issues with Adidas Pro upper, Blew up at 10.7 miles. High humidity in savannah and driving 9 hours over the last day made for a disaster.
March 9th: 20.12 miles, was supposed to be last 8 @ 50k pace. Made it 5.25 before blowing up because of temps and high humidity in SC.
March 20th: 20x 1 minute on @ 50k/1 minute @ 6:00 10x 30 seconds on @ hmp, 30 seconds @ 6:00 9.08 miles @ 5:39 avg
March 22nd: Wrecked my foot on a trail run in Austin for a wedding and could barely put weight on it for a couple days
April:
April 7th: Tuneup workout/race: 9 miler (start at MP and work down to HMP) 9.05 miles @ 5:14 avg
April 10th: 4x 1 mile w/ 2 min jog Mp-mp-hmp-hmp 5:17-16-03-03
Lowlights: Glute issues began to rear its ugly head following the tuneup workout. I had done this same race the last two years before Boston with little issue. This time I'm pretty sure I got a little too aggressive on a rolling course and just aggravated the spot.
Pre-race
We made the drive out to Madison from Ohio on Thursday morning. My original plan was to stop in Chicago Thursday night and finish the drive the following morning but seeing as it was just about an 8 hour drive from Ohio, I thought it would be best to make it in one trip and try to stay off my feet until race time.I did a loop on the course with a friend of mine as soon as we got to town to try and scope out what was in store on Saturday. The course would feature some rolling but nothing that seemed to be too much of an issue. Wind was a bit of a menace but hopefully it would die down by race day. As soon as we finished we realized we did the course backwards. Whoops.
Glute continued to be a problem despite how much I tried to roll it out. Shakeout felt awful on Friday and but was hoping that I'd get lucky like I did in December. Spent a fairly lowkey day grabbing my bib, and making a stop at New Glarus to grab beer for home.
We drove the course the correct way after we grabbed our bibs, looking at specific spots to build a race plan. The race would be 5 passes over a 10K loop. The race would start over just behind the finish line. Over the first mile we'd run out of the park, a sharp left a quarter mile in to a neighborhood street, a sharp right for our first hill (first a short small one, a slight dip, and an immediate longer one) before another sharp left onto the sidewalk to pass the first mile. The second mile would begin with a quick downhill section down the sidewalk before jumping on a bike path where it settled fairly nicely. After a quick left to head into a neighborhood section, we'd start a small negligible incline at 2.3, then really feel it ramp up at 2.6 and move up until another set of two sharp left turns 400 meters later. None of these first hills were particularly tough but sharp turns when cresting would make it hard to get back into rhythm, especially when we'd face them later in the race.
Mile four would have a quick downhill section coming off the sharp left turns as we headed towards the parking lot of the arboretum. We'd pass mile four as we made our way up the final incline, the mildest of the three incline sections of this course. A second aid station would greet us just after 4 miles with portapottys and water. The next mile would be a mild downhill section that could be a place to settle into a nice rhythm. Trees surrounded both sides of the road, protecting us from any nasty winds. The final section would be unshaded on one side, as the view of Lake Wingra and far off in the distance the finish line. One final sharp left turn took us out of the arboretum back into the park to finish the loop and do it once more. Almost a mile of this section would not have protection from the wind if it decided to pick up.
The race had sent out the lineup for the 50k earlier in the week. I had scanned through the competitors and thought I'd have a fairly good shot at the win. It seemed like a lot of the men had chosen the 100k instead, which not surprising because it would be the qualifier for worlds this Fall. Regardless of what it said on paper, I was prepared to have some people to race with. I've learned over the years that you can't be too confident; the distances will humble anyone.
Race plan would be to settle into the first two loops at about 5:40 average and then start moving over next two. No major moves until the marathon distance.
I struggled to go to bed the night prior to the race. I didn't think I had overhydrated by any means, but I was waking up every hour or so to go pee. I had a beer at lunch, but I typically have a beer at dinner before races. This was worse than I've experienced before.
I finally got some sleep and then woke up around 5:30 to get ready to head out. Bottles were prepared and bags were packed. I had a maurten bar and drank a Maurten 320 mix. Something wasn't sitting right. I was feeling sick and spent the next hour or so trying not to vomit. I thought to myself that while vomiting would probably ease my nausea, I'd most likely be heading into the race with a caloric deficit. To me it was better to be a little uncomfortable early than heading in without some fuel in the reserves.
The weather for the morning was a nippy 33 degrees with a real feel of 24. Wind had died down compared to yesterday but you could still feel a fairly strong gust come up. I decided to put on my brighton base layer under my singlet and double gloves. If I needed to ditch the mittens, I'd drop it after loop one.
With my stomach still struggling I instructed my girlfriend to hand me Nuun Endurance for the first two loops and Maurten for the final 2. The former was fairly easy to drink and would hopefully help settle me down. I took 3 Gus with me and left the remaining with her.
At this point I had made some adjustments to my race plan. The wind was not great and my legs weren't feeling that race day pop. I would play the conservative game for the two first loops and keep it under 3 hour pace and work my way down. 2:55-8ish would be a great day today. That seemed attainable.
After a 10 min jog and some strides, it was time to head to the start line. The 100k field had already been out for about 90 minutes and we cheered as each passed us. I took my first gu, thankfully I was able to take it down without any issues.
The race official separated the 50k solo runners from the relay teams. I said my final well wishes to one of my athlete's running in the women's field and lined up at the front.
Race
After a bit of shuffling at the start I maneuvered my way to the front. I had two relay runners with me and another that had bolted immediately, gapping the field quickly. A quick left turn into a neighborhood and then a sharp right for our first hill. This first loop would be all about getting my bearings for what's to come. I was okay with a slow first mile. As long was I could maintain an average of sub 5:48 for the loop, I'd be under the 3:00 standard to start. As I crested the first hill and made the sharp turn down the city sidewalk the first beep came through, 5:49. Good good. Stay calm and settle in, don't get antsy with 30 miles to go. Take the first three conservatively and let the last three be the place to make some ground. I brought the pace down slightly over the next mile with a 5:45 and then hit the next hill section in a 5:50. Fine, just fine. Crest the hill and two sharp lefts to get into the arboretum.As I made my second left I saw the leader of the 50K relay. A bike had pulled back with him. "I wrecked my achilles." To be honest I didn't really know how to respond to this. I said "Are you okay?" knowing full well he wasn't but that's the first thing I could think of. I kept going and thought to myself that this was probably going to be one of the loneliest races I'd ever be in. 3 Miles in and I'd been running the majority of this solo already. I was going to have to get real acquainted with my own thoughts.
It was time for the easier part of the course. While this section had some rolling in it, it was much gentler than the previous section, making it really easy to settle into a groove here. I had looked up the splits of one of the women's winners from one of the past years and saw that this section was the place where you could find a groove. I hit a couple 5:30 mids in this section, trying to focus on holding things back a bit here. A second gu just after 4 where I took some water to help take it down. While the wind was not as nasty as the previous days, the final mile was tougher than it needed to be. A final sharp left to get us back to the finish line as I started to feel some mild discomfort, less than 6 miles in, and I needed to go to the bathroom.
As I got smacked around by the wind a bit over the final stretch, I made the decision to ditch the mittens. I have massive raynauds issues but my hands seemed to be just fine with just one pair of gloves. If worse came to worse I'd ask for them back over the next loop. We came back through the finish straight and I scanned the crowd looking for my girlfriend. For a half second I worried I'd miss her, but sure enough she was there ready. I yelled out for a Nuun bottle, tossed my gloves and grabbed the bottle in one fluid motion. Okay got this one without any issues.
One lap complete in 36:09. I took a couple swigs of a cold Nuun and tossed it in a grass ditch 400 meters later. I'd grab them after the race.
As we left the park section I scanned my surroundings. My stomach had begun to tighten up. I need to go pee bad. I took a final look around, jumped in some bushes and did what needed to be done. Back on my merry way. I knew this mile would be slow with this pit stop and focused on not trying to over compensate with a fast next mile. We'd have plenty of time over the last 12 to be a little more aggressive. The next couple miles would be just focused on setting a barrier for myself. A second or two faster per mile would be okay here, but nothing crazy. I took my second gu without any issue.
I crested the second hill with no issues and enjoyed my downhill reward. Up ahead I saw a familiar singlet in the 100k field. "That's fine." I knew a couple guys from my conference ran for this club just after college. I had actually run my first marathon in this singlet. I immediately knew who this chap could be.
"Kris!"
"Yeah?"
"It's Cris from La Verne!"
"Oh I know who it is!"
I rolled past him and another competitor saying hello. He surged slightly and gave me a loving shove forward.
Editors note I hadn't seen Kris in probably 10 years. I went to my first brewery when I had just turned 21 with this guy before I got all into this scene. Kris would eventually come in third during this race, running a conservative, consistent and calculated race. The meet director said he looked like he was having the best time. I'd agree.
I came through in just about 72 minutes and I was fairly confident with how this was going to go still. As I made my move up the first hill I started to get that familiar feeling again. Really, I had to pee again...
Just before 14 I jumped into some trees and went. A 5:51 mile section for my troubles here. This was getting fairly annoying. I thought to myself, this is definitely the last time this is happening, suck it up and get back to business.
I saw another familiar face as I passed a 100K group. Geoff! I said hello and he cheered me forward and it was a nice pep up in a fairly quiet race. I had little trouble getting back into rhythm and cresting the second hill following the pitstop.
As I approached 16 the cracks in the armor began to show. It was a familiar feeling. A feeling back to 2021 when I tried this distance the first time. I've never had this feeling at the marathon distance but somehow this was happening 16 freaking miles into a 50K race.
My feet hurt.
Maybe it's the downhill sections. Maybe it's the pair of Vaporfly 2's that have 100+ miles on them already. This causes a quick short circuit to my confidence. This should not be happening. I'm not running that fast. This is 20 seconds slower than I ran in December.
I quickly shake those thoughts. Be here, now.
I take my fourth gu with no issue.
With my feet in mind I make the conscious effort to pull back on the pace a bit. I ran 5:31 for one of these sections last loop. Let's keep it to 5:38-5:40 to be safe. The pace doesn't feel like I'm straining but my feet just are achy. Hopefully this is just a fluke.
I pass through final stretch once more to grab my first bottle of Maurten. I'm fairly nervous at this point. I've stayed on pace, roughly, but things have been far from perfect and while my stomach is feeling settled, who knows what another chug of maurten 320 is gonna do.
I take the couple swigs and toss it into the patch. I see some familiar bottles. My athlete chose the same area to toss her bottles too.
Over 19 miles in and I'm still pretty consistent here. My feet are still crying out to me but other than that my legs feel relatively okay. As I crest the first hill again, another chip. That sharp left turn is feeling much much harder than it was before. My hips are tight and my left side is beginning to labor with each step. The downhills have been chipping away at an already unstable structure and now 21 miles in, these cracks are starting to show.
Again, I pivot on easing for the next couple miles. Ease the pace and hammer that last 10k. "You've run 5:20's before." There's still a chance here. The harsh reality is starting to set in as I crest the second hill that even the prospect of sub 3 hours is fleeting. My head isn't short circuiting here. It's focusing it's energy on checking in on how I'm feeling. I know this isn't going well. But thinking about it more isn't going to help. I have to live with the cards I'm dealt right now.
The "fast section" is now filled with 5:50s, 10+ seconds slower than miles I was joyfully running an hour earlier. Over the last two miles the thought of dropping out at the end of this loop comes to mind.
I'm not having a good time. My main goal for this race is gone and my feet hurt. Why am I out here...
"Well you're 24/25 miles in this race. You have nothing left on your schedule. You drove and invested all this time/money to do this. You're also winning. Finish this up dude."
As I made the penultimate pass through the finish line area I tried to look somewhat composed. Mostly because I didn't want to alarm my girlfriend. lol. The wind down the final stretch definitely made that a tougher endeavor than I would've thought.
This last bottle had no issue. I had another thought that maybe I could thug it out and pull something out of my butt to take me under. But after that final first hill, I knew it was all gone. I passed the marathon mark in 2:32 and with my muscles now screaming at me with every step I knew these last miles would be about survival.
A 6:13 off the hill. A 6:15 down the hill. The climb up the second hill didn't feel too horrible but once again, I needed to go pee. Of course. Let's rub some dirt in it. I have to pull to the side again. Getting back onto it was harder this time. My knee drive is pitiful as I struggle with each unforgiving next step. The nice downhill sections over 20 miles ago are now my nemesis. I try my hardest to keep myself under 6 minute pace as though that would help heal my fractured ego. But alas, I can't. These legs aren't going. I need to get myself to the finish line. What was my redemption at this distance was an ego check.
I pull myself over the next two miles as the wind keeps smacking me in the face. By the time I hit the final stretch I can't even kick. I put my arms up as I cross the finish. My legs aren't stinging like they did at CIM, I don't have the sharp stabbing pains. My body is just tired.
I'm done. I won. 3:04:04.
Post-race
It's a little over two weeks here writing this. I'm a crowler of a solid IPA here so forgive me on some run on sentences. This race was definitely a punch in the gut but a nice reminder of just how these distances work. I've been lucky enough to have have a string of what I would say home run races since October 2021. I was due for a tough one.I have New York in the Fall. This course has very similar elevation. Had New York been in the Spring it would have ate me alive in my current state. So I take away knowing that I still have a lot I need to work on to make sure I'm ready come Fall.
I'm fairly disappointed with this effort but I'm thankful all the same here. It's a great learning experience and I had an incredible trip.
As a note for anyone looking at these Mad City races. I was pretty blown away by how they treated us. The event coordinators are incredibly passionate about the race and the people. I received a handwritten card that came in today saying congrats and referencing a conversation we had after the race. I've raced a lot of big races over the years but little things like this mean a lot.
I'll be back eventually. I still have a bone to pick with this distance. Ya'll have been incredible for my successes over the years, while this may have been a stumble, I think it's important to talk about these days too. I’m proud of the effort. I definitely need to state that. That was harder for me than CIM.
We're very lucky to have the opportunity to travel to do these crazy things man.
Made with a new race report generator created by herumph.
2024.05.07 02:54 adorabletapeworm Orion Pest Control: Dog Days
Previous case.
What should have been a normal bug infestation turned into one of the most bizarre atypical cases I'd ever seen.
(If you're not familiar with what Orion Pest Control's services are, it may help to start here.)
The client called with complaints of encountering centipedes frequently in his home. While a lot of people find centipedes creepy, they're generally harmless. First thing we had to do was an inspection. Find out how the centipedes were getting in. See if there is something such as a water leak that could be causing excessive moisture in the client's home. Centipedes love dark, damp places, which is why you'll often find them in basements, shower drains, and crawlspaces. Once we had a chance to scope out the situation, we could develop a treatment plan from there.
Armed with insecticides, Reyna and I arrived to combat the invasion. The first thing I noticed when the client answered the door was that he looked sickly. He apologized, saying that he had food poisoning, so he was going to keep his distance from us.
“Where have you been finding the centipedes the most?” I questioned.
“Bedroom.” He said as he weakly settled down onto the couch. “That's why I'm camped out here. Those things freak me out.”
“How about the basement? Bathrooms?”
He shook his head. I thought that the location of the infestation was somewhat unusual, but otherwise I didn't think much of it.
We inspected the bedroom, starting under the bed. Sure enough, I found two common house centipedes squirming under a pile of old yearbooks. They got a lovely dose of insecticide. During the inspection, I noticed the windows didn’t have the best seal. That was probably how they were getting in.
The client began to cough from the other room, which turned into wretching.
That doesn't sound good. When I approached him to see if he was alright, he doubled over his garbage can. Instead of vomit, the long, leggy body of a centipede wriggled out of his mouth. He suddenly clutched his nose, wailing as he pulled another squirming bug from his right nostril. It took all of my willpower not to flinch at the sight.
The centipedes weren't coming from outside, after all.
As I rushed to his side, Reyna told me then that she knew what this was. Good. That was why we hired her. I told her to get whatever she needed while I watched over the client.
Before she hurried off with the company truck, she paused to say, “If you can, look for a white centipede. Trap it, but don't kill it.”
Naturally, the client was inconsolable. I think anyone would be, in his situation.
“Why is this happening to me?” He whimpered.
I tried to be comforting, “My coworker is knowledgeable when it comes to human infestations, so once she comes back, we'll take care of it, alright?”
“I'll try anything! I can…” The client shuddered, his hands clutching at his gut. “I can feel them crawling in my stomach! Their legs-”
I rubbed his back as he bent over the garbage can again. Jesus. I hoped that Reyna could help him, and soon.
Once he was done, he trembled as he watched the centipedes writhe at the bottom of his trash can. I asked him if he’d be okay if I left him for a second. He nodded. While he sobbed on the couch, I doused the bugs that he’d thrown up with a hefty dose of insecticide, then the hunt for the white centipede was on. At first, I tried not to tear the bedroom apart too much, but then I figured that the client would rather have to do some cleaning than have more bugs crawling around his insides.
It wasn't under the bed. Or under the dresser. The closet? Three regular, brown centipedes scurried away as I swung the door open. I stomped on one, but lost track of the other. I'd get it later. I moved some boxes of old comics that he had on the floor around. Not there. Possibly somewhere else in the house.
I went to the kitchen next. Nothing under the counters besides some sizable dust bunnies.
While I was there, the client asked for a glass of water, telling me that he had cups in the cabinet by the sink. That's where I found the white centipede.
It reared up on its hind legs, staring at me as its long body swayed from side to side. Something stringy was tied around one of its segments in a small bow. Hair? I quickly seized a glass and placed it over the white centipede to trap it. It kept looking at me. When I glanced between the client and the hair wrapped around the white centipede, I saw that the color and texture of the hair matched his.
Reyna burst through the door with a plastic bag on her arm. I don't know what I expected her to pull out, but it wasn't fruit and extra virgin olive oil. I didn't recognize the fruit, even after she started hurriedly chopping it; it looked like some sort of cross between a lime and an orange.
Seeing my expression, she muttered, “I know this probably looks ridiculous, but just… trust me, okay?”
I nodded slowly. I then informed her that I'd caught the white centipede.
She seemed relieved. “Okay, perfect. Can you put some of this oil on the stove for me on like… medium heat?”
Despite my confusion, I did as she asked. After she was done cutting, she slid the slices of mystery fruit into the oiled pan with a loud sizzle. What was interesting was that during this process, the white centipede had become frantic in its glass prison. It ran in circles, its legs clinking against the cup, desperate for an escape.
After the fruit-oil mixture became a jelly-like goop, Reyna poured most of it into a mug, announcing that once it cooled off, it would be ready.
When presented with the mixture, the client drank it without question. I think he was so desperate for some sort of relief that he'd truly meant it when he'd said that he was willing to try anything.
As he sipped at it, Reyna motioned for me to follow her back into the kitchen.
“Next, we need to submerge the centipede.” She explained. “That'll redirect the curse onto the person that originally cast it.”
“Alright, sounds good.” I replied, using a plate to keep the white centipede trapped within its glass prison as I picked it up. “You've seen this before, I take it?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but normally, it's beetles instead of centipedes. The calamansi mixture I gave him will keep the nasty little shits from eating our client from the inside out.”
I swear, the white centipede screamed as we poured the calamansi stuff over it. Centipedes aren't normally capable of vocalizing. It twitched as its legs got stuck in the goopy fruit mixture. Its struggles eventually died down, becoming slower and slower until the white centipede finally went still.
After confirming that the white centipede was dead, we checked on the client. He looked relieved to report that he couldn't feel anything squirming in his stomach anymore.
Reyna gently informed the client that the curse was brought about by jealousy. There was someone out there that envied him enough to want him dead, and in a gruesome manner, at that. If we had gotten to him a day later, the centipedes would've tunneled their way out of his body from every orifice. Lovely, right?
“The calamansi mixture acts as a ‘return to sender.’” She explained. “The person who did this to you will experience everything that you just went through until they put a stop to the curse. In the meantime, be careful. I'll return later with a charm that should help protect you.”
While Victor and I are well-versed in infestations affecting homes and business, we still have a lot to learn about atypical parasites such as the one that this client dealt with. That's where Reyna comes in. I'm not entirely sure what the best word to describe her title is, since she resents the term ‘spiritual healer' and others like it due to their associations with quack medicine.
In summary, at Orion, we’ve all been learning from each other.
Speaking of Victor, on the drive back to the office, Reyna and I discussed the changes we'd noticed in him. Neither of us have seen him eat anything since he showed up looking like hell.
“My vote's still for vampire.” She said. “Just a different flavor of vampire than the ones my lola told me about to scare me into going to bed on time. Jokes on her though: her stories made me afraid of the dark, so I didn't sleep anyway!”
I wasn't convinced. Victor had witnessed me managing to cut myself with a tape dispenser the other day and had no reaction to the blood beyond cracking wise at me.
He was in his office when we returned, looking like he wanted to strangle whoever he was on the phone with. That wasn't uncommon. The boss isn't the best with people, which is why I end up handling most of the customer service duties.
After Victor hung up, he informed us that it was the department of wildlife. I guess the worms were going around the local deer population, so they wanted us to keep an eye out and let them know if we notice any other species of animals showing symptoms. That made my stomach drop. That was the absolute last thing I wanted to hear.
After that wonderful news, Reyna went to take her lunch break, leaving Victor and I alone.
Before speaking, he gave me a pointed stare, “Listen. Nessa, I get you're concerned about me, but you need to back off.”
That took me aback, but before I could respond, he continued, “I don't want to see you following me anywhere, alright? Just stick to doing your job.”
Following him? Oh. Oh.
“I understand.” I muttered.
There had to be a reason why he couldn't talk to me outright. Something was up. His message was clear: he wanted me to follow him, but make sure that I wasn't seen, even by him.
After the office closed, I left first, pulling my car behind a dilapidated barn spray painted with ‘JESUS SAVES! REPENT!’ It was just down the road from where he lived, close enough to his apartment that I could see him pull in, but far enough away that my little G6 wouldn't be noticeable. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, his battered truck passed by.
I couldn't help but feel creepy, like I was doing something wrong. I was stalking him, after all. But was it really stalking if the person asked you to do it? For about twenty minutes after he went inside, nothing happened. I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to be looking for. Maybe I'd already missed something important.
His front door opened. Victor exited, circling around to enter the forest surrounding his apartment.
Quickly, I drove over, abandoned my car in visitor's parking, and followed him past the treeline, hoping that I didn't lose him. I made sure to bring my toolbelt with me. Like hell was I going into this unprepared.
Unfortunately, I had arrived somewhat late. He wasn't in sight. Shit. Hold on. I examined the forest floor, finding fresh boot prints in the dirt, damp from the rain earlier that day. I followed them deeper into the woods, doing my best to stay silent as I avoided fallen branches as best as I could.
As I went deeper and deeper into the woods, I heard whispering. It was incredibly faint, almost imperceptible. It would have been easy to dismiss as nothing more than the rustling of leaves. I was pretty sure that it wasn't Victor's voice. I looked around, trying to find the source of it, but from what I could see, I was alone.
Cautiously, I continued following Victor's boot prints, hand poised over my container of salt. I knew better than to brush something like that off as my imagination or ‘just the wind.’
The whispers suddenly became more urgent, louder, yet I still couldn't make out what they were saying. It might've been a man's voice. They were coming from the right, veering away from the boss’ tracks.
When I tried to focus on what was being said, I suddenly found myself off of the path. How did I get here? I glanced around, seeing my own footprints behind me. I didn't remember walking this way.
Something out there was messing with my head.
I got my bearings and went back the way I came. The whispers were at my back. Stomach in a knot, I ignored them. I found Victor's trail again.
The whispers were suddenly close. Very close, as if the speaker was right next to me. It took most of my concentration to shut out what they were saying. I clenched my jaw, trying to give myself something else to focus on. It was becoming harder and harder to follow Victor, but I couldn't let myself get led astray again. I didn't want to know where the whispers would take me if I focused on them for too long.
There was a clearing up ahead. The whispers were aggressive, now, my right ear ringing. My mind felt fuzzy, as if filled with TV static. But I still didn't listen to them, using every once of will left to reach the clearing. I even went so far as to plug my ears with my fingers.
All at once, the whispering stopped.
I glanced around the clearing, too afraid to uncover my ears. One of the trees caught my eye. Warily, I got closer. Encased within the bark was a human skull. The trunk had grown around the cranium so that the gaping mouth and eye sockets were the only things visible.
Another tree nearby. The roots twisted around a set of rib bones. The trunk was smaller than the one next to it, as the tree was younger. It grew from the broken jaws of another person’s skull. I also couldn't help but notice that the bones weren't as eroded as the ones I found stuck in the other tree.
I'm not supposed to be here.
A voice made me jump, “What brings you out here, stranger?”
I whirled around, seeing that the mechanic lounged in a folding chair, gently strumming a banjo. The face of the instrument was adorned with black dragonflies flitting about, the wooden neck accented with swirls of gold. I'd bet money that it was hand painted. He looked as if he'd been there for hours, but he definitely was not there before.
My heart raced as the phone call with that kid from three years ago played on a loop in my mind. The blood soaked petals of the hawthorn tree.
I swallowed nervously, trying to keep a tremble from my voice, making sure to avoid his eyes, “I'm looking for someone.”
The mechanic smiled, “Fancy that! I'm lookin’ for someone, too.”
“I'm following a trail. I don't want it to go cold, so if you please would excuse me-”
He cheerily ignored me, “You wouldn't happen to be lookin’ for ol’ blue eyes, wouldya?”
Fuck. What did the mechanic want with Victor?
Something crucial that yinz need to know if you ever encounter the Neighbors is to never lie to them. They will know it. You can, however, conceal the truth, as long as you're clever about it.
“I'm seeking answers.” I said vaguely.
The mechanic continued his soft tune as he gave me a mysterious look, “You think following that trail will get you to him? It ends right in front of you.”
My heart sank as I saw that he was right.
The mechanic then said, “You wanna find him, you're gonna need some help.”
Another thing about the Neighbors is that they take debts seriously. I'd compared them to the Mafia once before, and it's not an exaggeration. An unfulfilled deal with a Neighbor would make cement shoes seem like a peaceful way to go.
I tried to be polite, “I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid that I must decline.”
The mechanic chuckled, the sound chilling me to the marrow. “Nah, you're getting my help, whether you like it or not. You can either accept it graciously, or… well. Either way, you will be finding him for me. Simple as.”
I swallowed again, mind racing to try to find a way out of this. I couldn't decide which option terrified me more: being indebted to the mechanic or angering him.
I made sure not to meet his gaze as he watched me deliberate. The song he played was different than the one I'd heard over the phone years ago. The tune he played now was calming, like a lullaby.
I regret the answer that I gave him, but at the time, I'd thought it was reasonable. I was stupid. Please learn from my mistakes. “Your offer is gracious and appreciated, but I must respectfully refuse. I'm afraid that the cost-”
The mechanic sighed, sounding frustrated, “Anyone ever tell you it's rude not to look people in the eyes when you speak to ‘em?”
Shit. I fucked up. I fucked up! I backpeddled, “I meant no offense-”
The peaceful melody stopped as he gave the strings of the instrument one quick strum. It felt like someone took a sledgehammer to both of my kneecaps at once. Pitching forward, I gasped for air, unable to cry out. Another strum. My fingers clenched into fists involuntarily. There was a sharp sensation under my fingernails as if they were being pried off. Still, I couldn't find the breath to scream. From the fog of agony, I heard another flick of the banjo's strings. With it, my spine twisted and my vision went dark.
I'd thought that was it. That he'd broken my bones with nothing but a swipe of his fingers and left me for dead. I was wrong.
When my eyes opened, I was still in the forest. The mechanic had stayed in his chair, arms bent behind his head, eyes closed as he basked in the golden glow of the setting sun. He'd propped the banjo against his chair. I now feared that instrument more than any weapon made by man.
My fingernails lied on the ground in front of me, a brown liquid covering them. Blood. Why did my blood look like that? What at first looked like pale, shiny stones turned out to be teeth upon closer examination. Everything looked… strange now. Muted, as if most of the color had drained from the world.
Numbly, I noticed that there was something taking up the bottom of my vision. Long and white, tipped with black. No… no way. I tilted my head, looking down to see white paws instead of hands. I opened my mouth to swear, but all that came out was a high-pitched yelp.
The mechanic opened his eyes, grinning at me as he taunted, “You just had to be stubborn.”
I slowly stood, disoriented over how small I felt. The forest was now entirely too loud. The cacophony of smells overwhelmed me. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a bark.
The mechanic sat up, deceptively boyish grin still in place, “You know, I respect you, puppydog. Know why? All your bones broke as your body remolded itself, your flesh stretched out like fuckin’ silly putty, and all your little teeth and nails got yanked out. But through all that, you didn't scream. Not even once.”
I couldn't do anything but watch him, my whole body shaking from fear and the ache I felt in every cell of my being that came from my forced transformation. It hadn't been bravery that had kept me from crying out.
He leaned forward, clasping his hands together, “So here's the deal: you find ol’ blue eyes for me, and you'll be back on two legs again. But if you take too long, you’ll begin to forget that you were ever human to begin with. You understandin’ me, puppydog?”
The mechanic picked up his instrument again. Frozen, I resisted the urge to flinch as his fingers grazed the strings. My ears were so sensitive now that I could hear every groove of his fingerprints as they softly touched the instrument. Not bothering to look up at me, he said, “You’ve got until tomorrow's sunrise. You might wanna get a wiggle on.”
I wanted to run, fast and far, but I couldn't. It took everything that I had not to devolve into utter panic. I had to find Victor. The mechanic had said he was going to help me, whether I liked it or not. How the hell was turning me into a dog helpful?
Okay. I had to think. Stop being afraid and think. I closed my eyes, trying not to stare at my snout anymore. I inhaled deeply, the scents of fresh leaves and wet dirt heavy in my nose. And something else.
Opening my eyes, I followed the scent. Victor's bootprints. Why did I smell death on him? The rotting, pungent smell of carrion was faint, but enough that I could follow it.
I padded forward, allowing my nose to guide me. God, I was so small. Or maybe the world just felt so much bigger.
The scent trail lead me past a pond. Even though my mind felt like it was about to break, I was morbidly curious about what I looked like. When I stared at my reflection, a white, floppy-eared pitbull stared back at me. Little black spots like freckles speckled my face. As stupid as it sounds, one of my first thoughts was, ‘At least he didn't turn me into some yappy little ankle biter.’
I shuddered as the dog in the pond and I retreated from each other. When I felt that hopeless feeling creeping up again, I reminded myself that I had plenty of time to find the boss. I would be human again. With another deep breath through my nose, I kept following the smell of decay.
The creaks of branches sounded like the earth shattering. The songs of birds were tinny and sharp, making a whimper rise from my throat. From far off, something’s teeth ground together nauseatingly as it chewed. God, how do dogs not go insane hearing so much all the time?
I tried to simply focus on following the trail. A woodpecker sounded like a jackhammer, making me jump. Every sound put me on edge. It all seemed so close, as if I were surrounded, caged by the trees around me.
Even though the sun went all the way down, I could still navigate through the trees pretty well. The scent was starting to get stronger. I hoped that meant that I was getting closer.
The trail led me to a shed in the middle of a field. From where I stood at the edge of the woods, I could smell blood yet again. It looked like a butcher's shed. Why would Victor be here?
I approached the shed, ears pricked for any indication of what I would find inside. The shed was completely silent. Steeling myself, I stalked towards the entrance, finding that the door was cracked open. I nudged it open, seeing Victor bent over a counter, a partially processed deer in front of him. It looked like chunks had been taken out of its torso. A knife sat near to him and a pair of discarded rubber gloves.
With how good my hearing was, I should've heard his heartbeat. Why didn't I?
He turned his head when the door creaked open. Ordinarily, we were at the same eye level. It felt strange having to look up at him.
It was even stranger to have him coo at me, “Oh, hey there, puppy!”
I didn't realize his voice could go that high. Oh God, that was far too weird. A drawn out whine exited my mouth: it was the only way to express how weirded out I was.
“What's wrong?” The boss asked, crouching down, hand outstretched. “It's okay. I'm nice.”
Great. I'd found him, but how was I going to get him to know who I really was? I tapped my nose against his palm, then circled towards the door, staring at him, willing him to follow me. I whined again, trying to look pathetic. It wasn't hard. I certainly felt it.
The boss rose back up, approaching ne like he was afraid to startle me. I padded out the door, turning back to see if he followed. I may not have been able to speak, but I still knew how to write. I used the claws of my right paw to dig at the dirt, making an ‘H.’ The floor creaked as he left the shed to see what I was doing. I kept pawing at the dirt until I spelled out, ‘HELP.’
His brows furrowed, glancing between me and the message. I whined again, head down, wishing that I could cry. Victor's hand delicately went under my jaw, gently urging me to look up at him. He examined my face intently, searching for something.
He must have found it. His eyes widened as he breathed, “Nessa?”
I whimpered again, trembling as he held my chin. Victor's other hand stroked my head, trying to comfort me.
“What did this?” He asked.
I raised my head, leading him back towards the mechanic's clearing. The journey back felt like an eternity. Victor was silent, his expression grave for the duration of the hike. The smell of blood, meat, and rot lingered with him.
What had he been doing in that shed?
The mechanic had started a fire and acquired a case of beer, at some point. The fucker was roasting a marshmallow when we arrived. It caught on fire.
“People say I'm weird for liking my marshmallows burnt.” He commented before he blew it out. “Not sure why. It's the best way to do it!”
Victor ignored him, “You wanted me, you got me. Now will you please change her back?”
The mechanic twirled the stick between his fingers, the firelight making his smile look sinister, “I'll get to that.”
How much time did I have before sunrise? It was hard to tell with the way my vision had changed. It still looked pretty dark, but that didn't stop me from becoming even more nervous than I already was. What if he just stalled until sunrise, even though I'd done what I was supposed to? Could he do that?
I glanced up at Victor, the terror probably apparent in my eyes. He was smart enough not to push it, though I could tell he wanted to, most likely thinking the same thing as I was.
“Why did you want me?” Victor asked, the tightness in his eyes the only evidence I could see of his growing rage.
The mechanic didn't seem bothered by it, trapping his burnt marshmallow between a pair of graham crackers and a sliver of chocolate. “Do you know who I am, blue eyes?”
“I have my suspicions.” Victor all but growled.
“Then you know very well why I brought you here and what your options are.”
Victor didn't say anything for a moment, looking even more pale in the flickers of the flames in front of him as he watched the mechanic devour his burnt s'more. The boss’ heart still wasn't beating.
I began to wonder how long Victor had been dead. And with that, how long I'd been a complete idiot and not known.
Victor eventually said, “Please, turn my colleague back into a person. I'll make my choice then.”
The mechanic laughed, shaking his head, “You got some nerve, boy!”
I pawed at Victor's leg. I wished I could tell him not to push his luck with the mechanic, like I had.
The mechanic then said, “We’ve had a good working relationship over the years, what with the truck and whatnot. I’m giving you a choice outta the kindness of my heart. Normally, I just take the ones I want without a second thought. But you've been a valued customer over the years. Figure this was the least I could do.”
Victor's icy gaze didn't thaw any, but I could tell that beneath the fury, he was afraid. I didn't know what his choices were, but I'm sure that it was a similar ‘damned if you do, damned if you don't’ deal to what I got.
Victor swallowed before taking a deep breath in. He finally answered, “If I agree, what happens?”
The mechanic took a swig from his beer bottle, then replied “You just keep on managing Orion, same as usual. All that's gonna happen is that you'll have some extra calls from time to time. Calls that only you will answer. You will have no longer than two days to complete each one. And you will not be able to refuse anything assigned to you.”
I had a feeling that the mechanic wasn't referring to some hornet nests. What would a Neighbor consider a pest? With a chill, I came up with the answer myself: us. Humans. They were here before us. We cut down their forests. Poison their water.
For Victor's sake, and for the sakes of nameless others, I hoped that I was wrong. I’d taken lives in Afghanistan and I regret every single one. They still haunt my nightmares to this day, no matter how long it's been since I was discharged. I think they'll always be there.
I caught Victor eyeballing the trees nearby. Another skull leered at us from the truck, the firelight making it look like it was trying to speak.
Seemingly transfixed by the skeleton, Victor eventually let out a shuddering breath before saying, “I’ll do it.”
The mechanic smirked at him, “Good choice, blue eyes.”
When he reached for the banjo, it took everything I had not to cower from it.
The mechanic smiled at me, “Since you did such a good job, I’ll be a bit nicer.”
The melody he played was hypnotic, slow, enchanting. I blinked as my head suddenly felt… cloudy, is the best word I could think of for it. Pleasantly cloudy. And I was tired. So tired. It became harder and harder to keep my eyes open. The grass felt softer than any mattress I'd ever laid upon. I curled up in it, the fresh smell of it relaxing me even further as I let my eyes drift closed.
Then I woke up in my bed, groggy. Why was I awake? I wanted to keep sleeping. I reached up to rub my eyes. A hand. I was me again. I was sore all over, as if I'd done a hundred crunches on hardwood floor. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I bawled like a fucking baby.
I'm taking the next few days off to recover. The boss was the one to suggest it. I need it. He apologized for leading me there. He hadn't anticipated the mechanic finding me. I didn't blame him. It wasn't his fault.
I encourage all of you to learn from my mistakes. If a Neighbor gives you an offer you can't refuse, take the choice that gets you out as unscathed as possible. I got off lightly. Don't mess around with them. Be smart. Be careful.
submitted by adorabletapeworm to nosleep [link] [comments]
What should have been a normal bug infestation turned into one of the most bizarre atypical cases I'd ever seen.
(If you're not familiar with what Orion Pest Control's services are, it may help to start here.)
The client called with complaints of encountering centipedes frequently in his home. While a lot of people find centipedes creepy, they're generally harmless. First thing we had to do was an inspection. Find out how the centipedes were getting in. See if there is something such as a water leak that could be causing excessive moisture in the client's home. Centipedes love dark, damp places, which is why you'll often find them in basements, shower drains, and crawlspaces. Once we had a chance to scope out the situation, we could develop a treatment plan from there.
Armed with insecticides, Reyna and I arrived to combat the invasion. The first thing I noticed when the client answered the door was that he looked sickly. He apologized, saying that he had food poisoning, so he was going to keep his distance from us.
“Where have you been finding the centipedes the most?” I questioned.
“Bedroom.” He said as he weakly settled down onto the couch. “That's why I'm camped out here. Those things freak me out.”
“How about the basement? Bathrooms?”
He shook his head. I thought that the location of the infestation was somewhat unusual, but otherwise I didn't think much of it.
We inspected the bedroom, starting under the bed. Sure enough, I found two common house centipedes squirming under a pile of old yearbooks. They got a lovely dose of insecticide. During the inspection, I noticed the windows didn’t have the best seal. That was probably how they were getting in.
The client began to cough from the other room, which turned into wretching.
That doesn't sound good. When I approached him to see if he was alright, he doubled over his garbage can. Instead of vomit, the long, leggy body of a centipede wriggled out of his mouth. He suddenly clutched his nose, wailing as he pulled another squirming bug from his right nostril. It took all of my willpower not to flinch at the sight.
The centipedes weren't coming from outside, after all.
As I rushed to his side, Reyna told me then that she knew what this was. Good. That was why we hired her. I told her to get whatever she needed while I watched over the client.
Before she hurried off with the company truck, she paused to say, “If you can, look for a white centipede. Trap it, but don't kill it.”
Naturally, the client was inconsolable. I think anyone would be, in his situation.
“Why is this happening to me?” He whimpered.
I tried to be comforting, “My coworker is knowledgeable when it comes to human infestations, so once she comes back, we'll take care of it, alright?”
“I'll try anything! I can…” The client shuddered, his hands clutching at his gut. “I can feel them crawling in my stomach! Their legs-”
I rubbed his back as he bent over the garbage can again. Jesus. I hoped that Reyna could help him, and soon.
Once he was done, he trembled as he watched the centipedes writhe at the bottom of his trash can. I asked him if he’d be okay if I left him for a second. He nodded. While he sobbed on the couch, I doused the bugs that he’d thrown up with a hefty dose of insecticide, then the hunt for the white centipede was on. At first, I tried not to tear the bedroom apart too much, but then I figured that the client would rather have to do some cleaning than have more bugs crawling around his insides.
It wasn't under the bed. Or under the dresser. The closet? Three regular, brown centipedes scurried away as I swung the door open. I stomped on one, but lost track of the other. I'd get it later. I moved some boxes of old comics that he had on the floor around. Not there. Possibly somewhere else in the house.
I went to the kitchen next. Nothing under the counters besides some sizable dust bunnies.
While I was there, the client asked for a glass of water, telling me that he had cups in the cabinet by the sink. That's where I found the white centipede.
It reared up on its hind legs, staring at me as its long body swayed from side to side. Something stringy was tied around one of its segments in a small bow. Hair? I quickly seized a glass and placed it over the white centipede to trap it. It kept looking at me. When I glanced between the client and the hair wrapped around the white centipede, I saw that the color and texture of the hair matched his.
Reyna burst through the door with a plastic bag on her arm. I don't know what I expected her to pull out, but it wasn't fruit and extra virgin olive oil. I didn't recognize the fruit, even after she started hurriedly chopping it; it looked like some sort of cross between a lime and an orange.
Seeing my expression, she muttered, “I know this probably looks ridiculous, but just… trust me, okay?”
I nodded slowly. I then informed her that I'd caught the white centipede.
She seemed relieved. “Okay, perfect. Can you put some of this oil on the stove for me on like… medium heat?”
Despite my confusion, I did as she asked. After she was done cutting, she slid the slices of mystery fruit into the oiled pan with a loud sizzle. What was interesting was that during this process, the white centipede had become frantic in its glass prison. It ran in circles, its legs clinking against the cup, desperate for an escape.
After the fruit-oil mixture became a jelly-like goop, Reyna poured most of it into a mug, announcing that once it cooled off, it would be ready.
When presented with the mixture, the client drank it without question. I think he was so desperate for some sort of relief that he'd truly meant it when he'd said that he was willing to try anything.
As he sipped at it, Reyna motioned for me to follow her back into the kitchen.
“Next, we need to submerge the centipede.” She explained. “That'll redirect the curse onto the person that originally cast it.”
“Alright, sounds good.” I replied, using a plate to keep the white centipede trapped within its glass prison as I picked it up. “You've seen this before, I take it?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but normally, it's beetles instead of centipedes. The calamansi mixture I gave him will keep the nasty little shits from eating our client from the inside out.”
I swear, the white centipede screamed as we poured the calamansi stuff over it. Centipedes aren't normally capable of vocalizing. It twitched as its legs got stuck in the goopy fruit mixture. Its struggles eventually died down, becoming slower and slower until the white centipede finally went still.
After confirming that the white centipede was dead, we checked on the client. He looked relieved to report that he couldn't feel anything squirming in his stomach anymore.
Reyna gently informed the client that the curse was brought about by jealousy. There was someone out there that envied him enough to want him dead, and in a gruesome manner, at that. If we had gotten to him a day later, the centipedes would've tunneled their way out of his body from every orifice. Lovely, right?
“The calamansi mixture acts as a ‘return to sender.’” She explained. “The person who did this to you will experience everything that you just went through until they put a stop to the curse. In the meantime, be careful. I'll return later with a charm that should help protect you.”
While Victor and I are well-versed in infestations affecting homes and business, we still have a lot to learn about atypical parasites such as the one that this client dealt with. That's where Reyna comes in. I'm not entirely sure what the best word to describe her title is, since she resents the term ‘spiritual healer' and others like it due to their associations with quack medicine.
In summary, at Orion, we’ve all been learning from each other.
Speaking of Victor, on the drive back to the office, Reyna and I discussed the changes we'd noticed in him. Neither of us have seen him eat anything since he showed up looking like hell.
“My vote's still for vampire.” She said. “Just a different flavor of vampire than the ones my lola told me about to scare me into going to bed on time. Jokes on her though: her stories made me afraid of the dark, so I didn't sleep anyway!”
I wasn't convinced. Victor had witnessed me managing to cut myself with a tape dispenser the other day and had no reaction to the blood beyond cracking wise at me.
He was in his office when we returned, looking like he wanted to strangle whoever he was on the phone with. That wasn't uncommon. The boss isn't the best with people, which is why I end up handling most of the customer service duties.
After Victor hung up, he informed us that it was the department of wildlife. I guess the worms were going around the local deer population, so they wanted us to keep an eye out and let them know if we notice any other species of animals showing symptoms. That made my stomach drop. That was the absolute last thing I wanted to hear.
After that wonderful news, Reyna went to take her lunch break, leaving Victor and I alone.
Before speaking, he gave me a pointed stare, “Listen. Nessa, I get you're concerned about me, but you need to back off.”
That took me aback, but before I could respond, he continued, “I don't want to see you following me anywhere, alright? Just stick to doing your job.”
Following him? Oh. Oh.
“I understand.” I muttered.
There had to be a reason why he couldn't talk to me outright. Something was up. His message was clear: he wanted me to follow him, but make sure that I wasn't seen, even by him.
After the office closed, I left first, pulling my car behind a dilapidated barn spray painted with ‘JESUS SAVES! REPENT!’ It was just down the road from where he lived, close enough to his apartment that I could see him pull in, but far enough away that my little G6 wouldn't be noticeable. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, his battered truck passed by.
I couldn't help but feel creepy, like I was doing something wrong. I was stalking him, after all. But was it really stalking if the person asked you to do it? For about twenty minutes after he went inside, nothing happened. I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to be looking for. Maybe I'd already missed something important.
His front door opened. Victor exited, circling around to enter the forest surrounding his apartment.
Quickly, I drove over, abandoned my car in visitor's parking, and followed him past the treeline, hoping that I didn't lose him. I made sure to bring my toolbelt with me. Like hell was I going into this unprepared.
Unfortunately, I had arrived somewhat late. He wasn't in sight. Shit. Hold on. I examined the forest floor, finding fresh boot prints in the dirt, damp from the rain earlier that day. I followed them deeper into the woods, doing my best to stay silent as I avoided fallen branches as best as I could.
As I went deeper and deeper into the woods, I heard whispering. It was incredibly faint, almost imperceptible. It would have been easy to dismiss as nothing more than the rustling of leaves. I was pretty sure that it wasn't Victor's voice. I looked around, trying to find the source of it, but from what I could see, I was alone.
Cautiously, I continued following Victor's boot prints, hand poised over my container of salt. I knew better than to brush something like that off as my imagination or ‘just the wind.’
The whispers suddenly became more urgent, louder, yet I still couldn't make out what they were saying. It might've been a man's voice. They were coming from the right, veering away from the boss’ tracks.
When I tried to focus on what was being said, I suddenly found myself off of the path. How did I get here? I glanced around, seeing my own footprints behind me. I didn't remember walking this way.
Something out there was messing with my head.
I got my bearings and went back the way I came. The whispers were at my back. Stomach in a knot, I ignored them. I found Victor's trail again.
The whispers were suddenly close. Very close, as if the speaker was right next to me. It took most of my concentration to shut out what they were saying. I clenched my jaw, trying to give myself something else to focus on. It was becoming harder and harder to follow Victor, but I couldn't let myself get led astray again. I didn't want to know where the whispers would take me if I focused on them for too long.
There was a clearing up ahead. The whispers were aggressive, now, my right ear ringing. My mind felt fuzzy, as if filled with TV static. But I still didn't listen to them, using every once of will left to reach the clearing. I even went so far as to plug my ears with my fingers.
All at once, the whispering stopped.
I glanced around the clearing, too afraid to uncover my ears. One of the trees caught my eye. Warily, I got closer. Encased within the bark was a human skull. The trunk had grown around the cranium so that the gaping mouth and eye sockets were the only things visible.
Another tree nearby. The roots twisted around a set of rib bones. The trunk was smaller than the one next to it, as the tree was younger. It grew from the broken jaws of another person’s skull. I also couldn't help but notice that the bones weren't as eroded as the ones I found stuck in the other tree.
I'm not supposed to be here.
A voice made me jump, “What brings you out here, stranger?”
I whirled around, seeing that the mechanic lounged in a folding chair, gently strumming a banjo. The face of the instrument was adorned with black dragonflies flitting about, the wooden neck accented with swirls of gold. I'd bet money that it was hand painted. He looked as if he'd been there for hours, but he definitely was not there before.
My heart raced as the phone call with that kid from three years ago played on a loop in my mind. The blood soaked petals of the hawthorn tree.
I swallowed nervously, trying to keep a tremble from my voice, making sure to avoid his eyes, “I'm looking for someone.”
The mechanic smiled, “Fancy that! I'm lookin’ for someone, too.”
“I'm following a trail. I don't want it to go cold, so if you please would excuse me-”
He cheerily ignored me, “You wouldn't happen to be lookin’ for ol’ blue eyes, wouldya?”
Fuck. What did the mechanic want with Victor?
Something crucial that yinz need to know if you ever encounter the Neighbors is to never lie to them. They will know it. You can, however, conceal the truth, as long as you're clever about it.
“I'm seeking answers.” I said vaguely.
The mechanic continued his soft tune as he gave me a mysterious look, “You think following that trail will get you to him? It ends right in front of you.”
My heart sank as I saw that he was right.
The mechanic then said, “You wanna find him, you're gonna need some help.”
Another thing about the Neighbors is that they take debts seriously. I'd compared them to the Mafia once before, and it's not an exaggeration. An unfulfilled deal with a Neighbor would make cement shoes seem like a peaceful way to go.
I tried to be polite, “I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid that I must decline.”
The mechanic chuckled, the sound chilling me to the marrow. “Nah, you're getting my help, whether you like it or not. You can either accept it graciously, or… well. Either way, you will be finding him for me. Simple as.”
I swallowed again, mind racing to try to find a way out of this. I couldn't decide which option terrified me more: being indebted to the mechanic or angering him.
I made sure not to meet his gaze as he watched me deliberate. The song he played was different than the one I'd heard over the phone years ago. The tune he played now was calming, like a lullaby.
I regret the answer that I gave him, but at the time, I'd thought it was reasonable. I was stupid. Please learn from my mistakes. “Your offer is gracious and appreciated, but I must respectfully refuse. I'm afraid that the cost-”
The mechanic sighed, sounding frustrated, “Anyone ever tell you it's rude not to look people in the eyes when you speak to ‘em?”
Shit. I fucked up. I fucked up! I backpeddled, “I meant no offense-”
The peaceful melody stopped as he gave the strings of the instrument one quick strum. It felt like someone took a sledgehammer to both of my kneecaps at once. Pitching forward, I gasped for air, unable to cry out. Another strum. My fingers clenched into fists involuntarily. There was a sharp sensation under my fingernails as if they were being pried off. Still, I couldn't find the breath to scream. From the fog of agony, I heard another flick of the banjo's strings. With it, my spine twisted and my vision went dark.
I'd thought that was it. That he'd broken my bones with nothing but a swipe of his fingers and left me for dead. I was wrong.
When my eyes opened, I was still in the forest. The mechanic had stayed in his chair, arms bent behind his head, eyes closed as he basked in the golden glow of the setting sun. He'd propped the banjo against his chair. I now feared that instrument more than any weapon made by man.
My fingernails lied on the ground in front of me, a brown liquid covering them. Blood. Why did my blood look like that? What at first looked like pale, shiny stones turned out to be teeth upon closer examination. Everything looked… strange now. Muted, as if most of the color had drained from the world.
Numbly, I noticed that there was something taking up the bottom of my vision. Long and white, tipped with black. No… no way. I tilted my head, looking down to see white paws instead of hands. I opened my mouth to swear, but all that came out was a high-pitched yelp.
The mechanic opened his eyes, grinning at me as he taunted, “You just had to be stubborn.”
I slowly stood, disoriented over how small I felt. The forest was now entirely too loud. The cacophony of smells overwhelmed me. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a bark.
The mechanic sat up, deceptively boyish grin still in place, “You know, I respect you, puppydog. Know why? All your bones broke as your body remolded itself, your flesh stretched out like fuckin’ silly putty, and all your little teeth and nails got yanked out. But through all that, you didn't scream. Not even once.”
I couldn't do anything but watch him, my whole body shaking from fear and the ache I felt in every cell of my being that came from my forced transformation. It hadn't been bravery that had kept me from crying out.
He leaned forward, clasping his hands together, “So here's the deal: you find ol’ blue eyes for me, and you'll be back on two legs again. But if you take too long, you’ll begin to forget that you were ever human to begin with. You understandin’ me, puppydog?”
The mechanic picked up his instrument again. Frozen, I resisted the urge to flinch as his fingers grazed the strings. My ears were so sensitive now that I could hear every groove of his fingerprints as they softly touched the instrument. Not bothering to look up at me, he said, “You’ve got until tomorrow's sunrise. You might wanna get a wiggle on.”
I wanted to run, fast and far, but I couldn't. It took everything that I had not to devolve into utter panic. I had to find Victor. The mechanic had said he was going to help me, whether I liked it or not. How the hell was turning me into a dog helpful?
Okay. I had to think. Stop being afraid and think. I closed my eyes, trying not to stare at my snout anymore. I inhaled deeply, the scents of fresh leaves and wet dirt heavy in my nose. And something else.
Opening my eyes, I followed the scent. Victor's bootprints. Why did I smell death on him? The rotting, pungent smell of carrion was faint, but enough that I could follow it.
I padded forward, allowing my nose to guide me. God, I was so small. Or maybe the world just felt so much bigger.
The scent trail lead me past a pond. Even though my mind felt like it was about to break, I was morbidly curious about what I looked like. When I stared at my reflection, a white, floppy-eared pitbull stared back at me. Little black spots like freckles speckled my face. As stupid as it sounds, one of my first thoughts was, ‘At least he didn't turn me into some yappy little ankle biter.’
I shuddered as the dog in the pond and I retreated from each other. When I felt that hopeless feeling creeping up again, I reminded myself that I had plenty of time to find the boss. I would be human again. With another deep breath through my nose, I kept following the smell of decay.
The creaks of branches sounded like the earth shattering. The songs of birds were tinny and sharp, making a whimper rise from my throat. From far off, something’s teeth ground together nauseatingly as it chewed. God, how do dogs not go insane hearing so much all the time?
I tried to simply focus on following the trail. A woodpecker sounded like a jackhammer, making me jump. Every sound put me on edge. It all seemed so close, as if I were surrounded, caged by the trees around me.
Even though the sun went all the way down, I could still navigate through the trees pretty well. The scent was starting to get stronger. I hoped that meant that I was getting closer.
The trail led me to a shed in the middle of a field. From where I stood at the edge of the woods, I could smell blood yet again. It looked like a butcher's shed. Why would Victor be here?
I approached the shed, ears pricked for any indication of what I would find inside. The shed was completely silent. Steeling myself, I stalked towards the entrance, finding that the door was cracked open. I nudged it open, seeing Victor bent over a counter, a partially processed deer in front of him. It looked like chunks had been taken out of its torso. A knife sat near to him and a pair of discarded rubber gloves.
With how good my hearing was, I should've heard his heartbeat. Why didn't I?
He turned his head when the door creaked open. Ordinarily, we were at the same eye level. It felt strange having to look up at him.
It was even stranger to have him coo at me, “Oh, hey there, puppy!”
I didn't realize his voice could go that high. Oh God, that was far too weird. A drawn out whine exited my mouth: it was the only way to express how weirded out I was.
“What's wrong?” The boss asked, crouching down, hand outstretched. “It's okay. I'm nice.”
Great. I'd found him, but how was I going to get him to know who I really was? I tapped my nose against his palm, then circled towards the door, staring at him, willing him to follow me. I whined again, trying to look pathetic. It wasn't hard. I certainly felt it.
The boss rose back up, approaching ne like he was afraid to startle me. I padded out the door, turning back to see if he followed. I may not have been able to speak, but I still knew how to write. I used the claws of my right paw to dig at the dirt, making an ‘H.’ The floor creaked as he left the shed to see what I was doing. I kept pawing at the dirt until I spelled out, ‘HELP.’
His brows furrowed, glancing between me and the message. I whined again, head down, wishing that I could cry. Victor's hand delicately went under my jaw, gently urging me to look up at him. He examined my face intently, searching for something.
He must have found it. His eyes widened as he breathed, “Nessa?”
I whimpered again, trembling as he held my chin. Victor's other hand stroked my head, trying to comfort me.
“What did this?” He asked.
I raised my head, leading him back towards the mechanic's clearing. The journey back felt like an eternity. Victor was silent, his expression grave for the duration of the hike. The smell of blood, meat, and rot lingered with him.
What had he been doing in that shed?
The mechanic had started a fire and acquired a case of beer, at some point. The fucker was roasting a marshmallow when we arrived. It caught on fire.
“People say I'm weird for liking my marshmallows burnt.” He commented before he blew it out. “Not sure why. It's the best way to do it!”
Victor ignored him, “You wanted me, you got me. Now will you please change her back?”
The mechanic twirled the stick between his fingers, the firelight making his smile look sinister, “I'll get to that.”
How much time did I have before sunrise? It was hard to tell with the way my vision had changed. It still looked pretty dark, but that didn't stop me from becoming even more nervous than I already was. What if he just stalled until sunrise, even though I'd done what I was supposed to? Could he do that?
I glanced up at Victor, the terror probably apparent in my eyes. He was smart enough not to push it, though I could tell he wanted to, most likely thinking the same thing as I was.
“Why did you want me?” Victor asked, the tightness in his eyes the only evidence I could see of his growing rage.
The mechanic didn't seem bothered by it, trapping his burnt marshmallow between a pair of graham crackers and a sliver of chocolate. “Do you know who I am, blue eyes?”
“I have my suspicions.” Victor all but growled.
“Then you know very well why I brought you here and what your options are.”
Victor didn't say anything for a moment, looking even more pale in the flickers of the flames in front of him as he watched the mechanic devour his burnt s'more. The boss’ heart still wasn't beating.
I began to wonder how long Victor had been dead. And with that, how long I'd been a complete idiot and not known.
Victor eventually said, “Please, turn my colleague back into a person. I'll make my choice then.”
The mechanic laughed, shaking his head, “You got some nerve, boy!”
I pawed at Victor's leg. I wished I could tell him not to push his luck with the mechanic, like I had.
The mechanic then said, “We’ve had a good working relationship over the years, what with the truck and whatnot. I’m giving you a choice outta the kindness of my heart. Normally, I just take the ones I want without a second thought. But you've been a valued customer over the years. Figure this was the least I could do.”
Victor's icy gaze didn't thaw any, but I could tell that beneath the fury, he was afraid. I didn't know what his choices were, but I'm sure that it was a similar ‘damned if you do, damned if you don't’ deal to what I got.
Victor swallowed before taking a deep breath in. He finally answered, “If I agree, what happens?”
The mechanic took a swig from his beer bottle, then replied “You just keep on managing Orion, same as usual. All that's gonna happen is that you'll have some extra calls from time to time. Calls that only you will answer. You will have no longer than two days to complete each one. And you will not be able to refuse anything assigned to you.”
I had a feeling that the mechanic wasn't referring to some hornet nests. What would a Neighbor consider a pest? With a chill, I came up with the answer myself: us. Humans. They were here before us. We cut down their forests. Poison their water.
For Victor's sake, and for the sakes of nameless others, I hoped that I was wrong. I’d taken lives in Afghanistan and I regret every single one. They still haunt my nightmares to this day, no matter how long it's been since I was discharged. I think they'll always be there.
I caught Victor eyeballing the trees nearby. Another skull leered at us from the truck, the firelight making it look like it was trying to speak.
Seemingly transfixed by the skeleton, Victor eventually let out a shuddering breath before saying, “I’ll do it.”
The mechanic smirked at him, “Good choice, blue eyes.”
When he reached for the banjo, it took everything I had not to cower from it.
The mechanic smiled at me, “Since you did such a good job, I’ll be a bit nicer.”
The melody he played was hypnotic, slow, enchanting. I blinked as my head suddenly felt… cloudy, is the best word I could think of for it. Pleasantly cloudy. And I was tired. So tired. It became harder and harder to keep my eyes open. The grass felt softer than any mattress I'd ever laid upon. I curled up in it, the fresh smell of it relaxing me even further as I let my eyes drift closed.
Then I woke up in my bed, groggy. Why was I awake? I wanted to keep sleeping. I reached up to rub my eyes. A hand. I was me again. I was sore all over, as if I'd done a hundred crunches on hardwood floor. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I bawled like a fucking baby.
I'm taking the next few days off to recover. The boss was the one to suggest it. I need it. He apologized for leading me there. He hadn't anticipated the mechanic finding me. I didn't blame him. It wasn't his fault.
I encourage all of you to learn from my mistakes. If a Neighbor gives you an offer you can't refuse, take the choice that gets you out as unscathed as possible. I got off lightly. Don't mess around with them. Be smart. Be careful.
2024.05.07 02:26 MasonicSeven707 The full rant that got deleted on r/college
People say that college isn't for everyone which is true, but I firmly believe that going to college is infinitely better than not.
I have no ambition, no major, no idea what I wanna be, I grew up in a middle class house hold, I'm not a first generation both of my parents went to college, and I took advantage of my easy life I barely learned in school, I am aware I am not as smart as the average human being believe me, I don't know most of basic history or math, my friends make fun of me for it as they Should I realize how important learning was after graduating hs.
I fucked up so badly ever since I was child. I only did enough to pass, sure I got A's, b's, mostly C's, sometimes never but rarely D's, but never f's until college, but now I am aware of how serious it is to become something in life, we as humans have made it a fundamental need to become something in life.
Sure the college dropouts that made it in life are thriving but be realistic. I know myself I know I'm not gonna be rich or become a fucking famous YouTuber I have become more realistic and more humble than I was before I started college.
But I know I will not be happy, I know I will live a life as a man in a struggling environment, I know I will heavily disappoint my parents and my siblings and friends, they are in college wanting to be something and I know all of the good times and the life that I wanted will not happen.
I genuinely want to cry when people ask me what's my major I've been in college for three years doing nothing with only one class of something that I am failing I hate how fucking stupid I am, I can't do adulting I just can't do this. I'm still a boy not a man.
I can't do this anymore, I don't wanna live in a life where I know I won't be happy in. My gym teacher once said, someone has to be the iceream man, someone has to be the hotdog stand guy, someone has to be the person working at Walmart. He wasn't saying that to me at the time, I wasn't kid whose act up in class nor was I a popular kid, I was just an average teenager who made some friends in HS that's all.
I don't know what I want to be, I flunked out and lost my scholarship I cried for the first time in years because I knew I would be in a life of early mornings for a job that barely gets me through a month, I wish to God my parents manipulated me as a kid to become something, it is so important to know what you wanna do, I don't even wanna have kids, and ruin the cycle.
Our cycle was fixed, I pray to God that NOBODY in life and my siblings will lose their happiness and their ambition it is so important to go to school and become something I honestly don't care what anyone has to say, I am a failure to everyone when they ask me about school I still don't even know how to drive but I have my permit, I am also a failure to most people in my community, all of the old adults talking to me saying I speak well, and I am different kids that want to skip class, I smile and conversate tell them what they wanna hear and they say they look at me and see a man whose knows what he wants, i want to break down and tell them what my situation is but I don't. I have before but most times they say the same stuff I have heard and normally don't know what to tell me and it hurt cause now I don't think there's a solution to my problem I truly think some people are meant to not succeed in life just by chance. I just wish I wasn't so fucking aware of it, and how much the stakes really are in terms of succeeding in life.
Sure people will still say but you can still be successful but look at how fucking hard you have to work without college, I couldn't give a shit about the debt at least you have a degree at least you did something at you have a fucking talent, it pisses me off when people degrade other people's degree or talk shut on their own degrees, like do you realize how fucking hard you have to work just to succeed in college I would be praising and waking up early in the morning with a smile on my face saying that I did it even if I had the world's worst college degree. So fucking own it once you graduate.
People have something to fall back on at least you can say you went to school at least you can make more money, at least you can definitely have the life you want, I wanted to drop out I told my mom this multiple times she did not take it well breaking down crying in public at the college during registration, in front of everyone, my dad is fine with me dropping surprisingly but I know he shouldn't, but my mom no she says i will keep going to college until I want to be something. She literally fucking forcing me. I have been even more depressed ever since, I want to cry Everytime I go to class cause I know I'm s failure and I can't learn.
The emotions are building up I cannot man up any longer, I am considering running away and dying somewhere in the wild I do not give a fuck anymore, I truly wish I was one of you reading this right now who are still in college for sure knowing what they want to do for the rest of their life.
My friend says then "do something about it", nothing can top that statement in being the perfect example of easier said then done. Some of my other friends have sympathy the others truly cannot understand how stupid some people are and why they don't know most of common knowledge. They are right for the insults Andi have myself to blame, they are right. But they don't understand is that it's just hard to get sit or learn sometimes it's always has, I hated school my whole life it was always so fucking hard to get an A . Then again my highschool wasn't the best. It a low testing rate but it very school has they're shinners. I remember looking at the insanely smart kids, I had so much respect for them but most didn't want to be friends with my understably cuz I'd somewhat try to match, learn, or copy from them. They often kept to themselves so I left them alone, but some smart kids that I am still friends with I am proud of them and I think to myself what life what truly be like if I had their intelligence. Most of my friends are the opposite funny enough they come from terrible living conditions working their way up to be first generation students while I'm the opposite, and it's fucking killing me, I'm happy for them but I a really a pethetic though. I just don't know what to do anymore.
To those in college I hope you live your live and have what you want trust me it's better to be something than nothing. The counselor was nice she convinced me to stay in school on the day my mom broke down in front of everyone but I only chose one class cause the other classes she was suggesting were stuff that I struggled a lot with in back in hs
I will say though I am aware of how my life was supposed to go. My childhood and teenage life was absolutely amazing I was actually so happy until I turned 18 I understand that now. And I am not happy for it, I wish I had the ambition to be a fuckin doctor a lawyer a computer scientist, fucking anything a ballerina. I wish I had a photographic memory I wish I was smart. I wish I didn't have to ask the teacher to repeat what they said all he time I wish when after I studied I didn't forget I wish I didn't get so bored in class so easily I wish I could be the guy people wanted me to be. I wish I could make my community proud I can't though I cannot. I have tried tried and trued and it's headache inducing. I just wish I could know what it's like to have to confidence to pass a test.
I don't care I truly wish there was something I can care about or put my mind towards, even then there is stuff that every human wants to be but that stuff is too high for the average person to reach like being an astronaut or a voice actor. I wonder if we'll even have an astronaut thats born in 2000. And I want to be a voice actor buts unrealistic like making it as a NBA player or something like that.
I'm just ranting and I don't give a shit about how stupid this sounds or how many run on sentences I have. I just need to say this I fucked up my life there's still so much more to tell. And I want to stop living but I don't want to commit suicide but I also don't want to live the life that I know that's set for me. I wanted a family a wife and kids, and secure future I wanted to be able to take of my mother, but what man would I be if I bring people I love into this life of failure.
I wouldn't be able to have a woman as a unambitious broke man, I wouldn't be able to support another life by working at fucking McDonald's for the rest of my life. I get so jealous and happy wherever I hear my coworkers talk about school, sometimes I tear up. Secretly cause I think about my life. I wish them the best and I truly pray to God that they stick to their ambition to the end.
I'll just end up as a nothing but another statistic if I bring anyone too close. I've tried pushing people away so that they won't be as disappointed or sad when they realize how much of a failure I'll be in the future. I know I can't just marry a woman who makes more than me because my mother said shed disown me if Im not a provider or a real man. I don't want them to see me like that. I try to compensate for my shitty future by working out because truthfully I know I'll only have myself. So I mind as well look good going down.
I only have one class and it's a class of a major I am fucking shit in and don't enjoy, school is so hard I cannot do this. How are people just so smart I genuinely struggle no matter how hard I try. I go after school meet with professors and my friends tell me that they can just be told information and just remember it. It makes me cry, I ask God why was I born why. Why Give me a life of luxury for only 18 years. There's no point in living.
I won't repeat the cycle by bringing people into my life or a kid into my life, I will be the dead branch that falls off. I would never set myself up for a woman only for her to see I am a disappointment going nowhere, I will never set myself up to have a kid only to realize his father cannot give him a secure life. I will never break my family's cycle of going to college being successful and taking care of the parents, I will die off. It's the only way that I see is a fitting end, a more pg way of natural selection for me.
To those that are reading this
Please if you ever consider having a child this is your one chance to set them up, manipulate them just a little bit to become something, put them in clubs, sports, make them learn how to play piano make them have some sort of skill my parents only did that with me once with basketball but I broke my leg as a kid and never did basketball again, my father didn't want me to do other sports like football or something else even though I was potentially built for it as I am a big person. My mother on the other hand never really offered to put me in anything else. And me as a child after basketball i never went anywhere and was just existing, I also turned down a lot of offers by my parents when I was little but I wish they ignored me saying no to boy scouts or whatever and just forced me in. It would've done me some good.
My older brother and older sister just miraculously wanted to be something in life but they did join clubs and programs during school, my older brother works for NASA now, while my older sister is a therapist. My little sister she is still in college but I am not sure for what but when she was little she joined many clubs and did many childhood things in programs. My little brother he did as well, and it's what kicked off his talent, I am so grateful that he has a talent he wants to be a drummer musician, as he knows how to play the drums.
And you already know about me, I am right in the middle, I have nothing and am nothing and I hate how my friends talk about the future together as if I could be able to afford it. I wish I was never born I truly do. I sometimes wonder if suicide isn't as bad as they say. If there's anything out there for me that can secure me financially for a future I would drop everything and take it in a heartbeat.
I remember my HS history teacher asked me what talent I had when everyone in class were sharing what they are good at and I said nothing and it was true and honest, and I thought it was ok. He looked at me right in the eyes and said out loud in front of the whole class that I was pathetic, and started questioning me about my parents and my life. Non of the answers were satisfactory to him.
I hate school I hate myself I hate the future I gotten to myself, only one life and I choose this it's my fault I have no one else to blame but myself. I want to die but at the same time I don't. I wonder if there was even a purpose to me being born I wonder if I did something in a past life to have earned a life like this. I'm stuck in the middle no motivation or likeness for anything while also wasting time and just existing why God why me why did I have to be a nobody, I don't want this I don't love this life, I truly don't know what to do, I wish whole heartily that I was never born, I hope I die without knowing oneday, so then I wouldn't be burden with the anxiety of my failure of a future knowing that there's nothing for me. why did I have to be human why not a mindless animal with no worries or responsibilities. Death is a better alternative than doing nothing with my life.
submitted by MasonicSeven707 to CollegeRant [link] [comments]
I have no ambition, no major, no idea what I wanna be, I grew up in a middle class house hold, I'm not a first generation both of my parents went to college, and I took advantage of my easy life I barely learned in school, I am aware I am not as smart as the average human being believe me, I don't know most of basic history or math, my friends make fun of me for it as they Should I realize how important learning was after graduating hs.
I fucked up so badly ever since I was child. I only did enough to pass, sure I got A's, b's, mostly C's, sometimes never but rarely D's, but never f's until college, but now I am aware of how serious it is to become something in life, we as humans have made it a fundamental need to become something in life.
Sure the college dropouts that made it in life are thriving but be realistic. I know myself I know I'm not gonna be rich or become a fucking famous YouTuber I have become more realistic and more humble than I was before I started college.
But I know I will not be happy, I know I will live a life as a man in a struggling environment, I know I will heavily disappoint my parents and my siblings and friends, they are in college wanting to be something and I know all of the good times and the life that I wanted will not happen.
I genuinely want to cry when people ask me what's my major I've been in college for three years doing nothing with only one class of something that I am failing I hate how fucking stupid I am, I can't do adulting I just can't do this. I'm still a boy not a man.
I can't do this anymore, I don't wanna live in a life where I know I won't be happy in. My gym teacher once said, someone has to be the iceream man, someone has to be the hotdog stand guy, someone has to be the person working at Walmart. He wasn't saying that to me at the time, I wasn't kid whose act up in class nor was I a popular kid, I was just an average teenager who made some friends in HS that's all.
I don't know what I want to be, I flunked out and lost my scholarship I cried for the first time in years because I knew I would be in a life of early mornings for a job that barely gets me through a month, I wish to God my parents manipulated me as a kid to become something, it is so important to know what you wanna do, I don't even wanna have kids, and ruin the cycle.
Our cycle was fixed, I pray to God that NOBODY in life and my siblings will lose their happiness and their ambition it is so important to go to school and become something I honestly don't care what anyone has to say, I am a failure to everyone when they ask me about school I still don't even know how to drive but I have my permit, I am also a failure to most people in my community, all of the old adults talking to me saying I speak well, and I am different kids that want to skip class, I smile and conversate tell them what they wanna hear and they say they look at me and see a man whose knows what he wants, i want to break down and tell them what my situation is but I don't. I have before but most times they say the same stuff I have heard and normally don't know what to tell me and it hurt cause now I don't think there's a solution to my problem I truly think some people are meant to not succeed in life just by chance. I just wish I wasn't so fucking aware of it, and how much the stakes really are in terms of succeeding in life.
Sure people will still say but you can still be successful but look at how fucking hard you have to work without college, I couldn't give a shit about the debt at least you have a degree at least you did something at you have a fucking talent, it pisses me off when people degrade other people's degree or talk shut on their own degrees, like do you realize how fucking hard you have to work just to succeed in college I would be praising and waking up early in the morning with a smile on my face saying that I did it even if I had the world's worst college degree. So fucking own it once you graduate.
People have something to fall back on at least you can say you went to school at least you can make more money, at least you can definitely have the life you want, I wanted to drop out I told my mom this multiple times she did not take it well breaking down crying in public at the college during registration, in front of everyone, my dad is fine with me dropping surprisingly but I know he shouldn't, but my mom no she says i will keep going to college until I want to be something. She literally fucking forcing me. I have been even more depressed ever since, I want to cry Everytime I go to class cause I know I'm s failure and I can't learn.
The emotions are building up I cannot man up any longer, I am considering running away and dying somewhere in the wild I do not give a fuck anymore, I truly wish I was one of you reading this right now who are still in college for sure knowing what they want to do for the rest of their life.
My friend says then "do something about it", nothing can top that statement in being the perfect example of easier said then done. Some of my other friends have sympathy the others truly cannot understand how stupid some people are and why they don't know most of common knowledge. They are right for the insults Andi have myself to blame, they are right. But they don't understand is that it's just hard to get sit or learn sometimes it's always has, I hated school my whole life it was always so fucking hard to get an A . Then again my highschool wasn't the best. It a low testing rate but it very school has they're shinners. I remember looking at the insanely smart kids, I had so much respect for them but most didn't want to be friends with my understably cuz I'd somewhat try to match, learn, or copy from them. They often kept to themselves so I left them alone, but some smart kids that I am still friends with I am proud of them and I think to myself what life what truly be like if I had their intelligence. Most of my friends are the opposite funny enough they come from terrible living conditions working their way up to be first generation students while I'm the opposite, and it's fucking killing me, I'm happy for them but I a really a pethetic though. I just don't know what to do anymore.
To those in college I hope you live your live and have what you want trust me it's better to be something than nothing. The counselor was nice she convinced me to stay in school on the day my mom broke down in front of everyone but I only chose one class cause the other classes she was suggesting were stuff that I struggled a lot with in back in hs
I will say though I am aware of how my life was supposed to go. My childhood and teenage life was absolutely amazing I was actually so happy until I turned 18 I understand that now. And I am not happy for it, I wish I had the ambition to be a fuckin doctor a lawyer a computer scientist, fucking anything a ballerina. I wish I had a photographic memory I wish I was smart. I wish I didn't have to ask the teacher to repeat what they said all he time I wish when after I studied I didn't forget I wish I didn't get so bored in class so easily I wish I could be the guy people wanted me to be. I wish I could make my community proud I can't though I cannot. I have tried tried and trued and it's headache inducing. I just wish I could know what it's like to have to confidence to pass a test.
I don't care I truly wish there was something I can care about or put my mind towards, even then there is stuff that every human wants to be but that stuff is too high for the average person to reach like being an astronaut or a voice actor. I wonder if we'll even have an astronaut thats born in 2000. And I want to be a voice actor buts unrealistic like making it as a NBA player or something like that.
I'm just ranting and I don't give a shit about how stupid this sounds or how many run on sentences I have. I just need to say this I fucked up my life there's still so much more to tell. And I want to stop living but I don't want to commit suicide but I also don't want to live the life that I know that's set for me. I wanted a family a wife and kids, and secure future I wanted to be able to take of my mother, but what man would I be if I bring people I love into this life of failure.
I wouldn't be able to have a woman as a unambitious broke man, I wouldn't be able to support another life by working at fucking McDonald's for the rest of my life. I get so jealous and happy wherever I hear my coworkers talk about school, sometimes I tear up. Secretly cause I think about my life. I wish them the best and I truly pray to God that they stick to their ambition to the end.
I'll just end up as a nothing but another statistic if I bring anyone too close. I've tried pushing people away so that they won't be as disappointed or sad when they realize how much of a failure I'll be in the future. I know I can't just marry a woman who makes more than me because my mother said shed disown me if Im not a provider or a real man. I don't want them to see me like that. I try to compensate for my shitty future by working out because truthfully I know I'll only have myself. So I mind as well look good going down.
I only have one class and it's a class of a major I am fucking shit in and don't enjoy, school is so hard I cannot do this. How are people just so smart I genuinely struggle no matter how hard I try. I go after school meet with professors and my friends tell me that they can just be told information and just remember it. It makes me cry, I ask God why was I born why. Why Give me a life of luxury for only 18 years. There's no point in living.
I won't repeat the cycle by bringing people into my life or a kid into my life, I will be the dead branch that falls off. I would never set myself up for a woman only for her to see I am a disappointment going nowhere, I will never set myself up to have a kid only to realize his father cannot give him a secure life. I will never break my family's cycle of going to college being successful and taking care of the parents, I will die off. It's the only way that I see is a fitting end, a more pg way of natural selection for me.
To those that are reading this
Please if you ever consider having a child this is your one chance to set them up, manipulate them just a little bit to become something, put them in clubs, sports, make them learn how to play piano make them have some sort of skill my parents only did that with me once with basketball but I broke my leg as a kid and never did basketball again, my father didn't want me to do other sports like football or something else even though I was potentially built for it as I am a big person. My mother on the other hand never really offered to put me in anything else. And me as a child after basketball i never went anywhere and was just existing, I also turned down a lot of offers by my parents when I was little but I wish they ignored me saying no to boy scouts or whatever and just forced me in. It would've done me some good.
My older brother and older sister just miraculously wanted to be something in life but they did join clubs and programs during school, my older brother works for NASA now, while my older sister is a therapist. My little sister she is still in college but I am not sure for what but when she was little she joined many clubs and did many childhood things in programs. My little brother he did as well, and it's what kicked off his talent, I am so grateful that he has a talent he wants to be a drummer musician, as he knows how to play the drums.
And you already know about me, I am right in the middle, I have nothing and am nothing and I hate how my friends talk about the future together as if I could be able to afford it. I wish I was never born I truly do. I sometimes wonder if suicide isn't as bad as they say. If there's anything out there for me that can secure me financially for a future I would drop everything and take it in a heartbeat.
I remember my HS history teacher asked me what talent I had when everyone in class were sharing what they are good at and I said nothing and it was true and honest, and I thought it was ok. He looked at me right in the eyes and said out loud in front of the whole class that I was pathetic, and started questioning me about my parents and my life. Non of the answers were satisfactory to him.
I hate school I hate myself I hate the future I gotten to myself, only one life and I choose this it's my fault I have no one else to blame but myself. I want to die but at the same time I don't. I wonder if there was even a purpose to me being born I wonder if I did something in a past life to have earned a life like this. I'm stuck in the middle no motivation or likeness for anything while also wasting time and just existing why God why me why did I have to be a nobody, I don't want this I don't love this life, I truly don't know what to do, I wish whole heartily that I was never born, I hope I die without knowing oneday, so then I wouldn't be burden with the anxiety of my failure of a future knowing that there's nothing for me. why did I have to be human why not a mindless animal with no worries or responsibilities. Death is a better alternative than doing nothing with my life.
2024.05.07 02:13 FlakyBread3745 Camp daley
I (14m) am a student at daley private school in England. I have little brother who's coming up on his 6th birthday soon and I love with my mum. I never knew my dad and I never plan to, according to my uncle he used to beat her senseless and when he found out she was pregnant he moved down to London.
I have a small group of friends who also go to the same school, our school always has trips to a camp or something in the holidays. It's always called held in a campsite not far from school but this time it's being held in a different place a few hours away in Wales.
I've only ever been once but a trip to Wales sparked my interest. My friends were going aswell so I decided to go. We went to the front office and put our names down so we could be in a same cabin aswell. Camp daley was in a week and I have to admit I was pretty excited, I've been to Wales a few times and I enjoyed it everytime I went.
As soon as I got home I told my parents and they were fine with it, I went up to my room and started planning out what to take. Snacks, sleeping bags, torch, toothbrush, powerbank, spare clothes, pyjamas and everything else would be provided. I looked to the side and saw my Stanley knife, I took it just incase for firewood or something.
The next day we went and played football on a field near mine, we played for hours, grazed our knees but by the end we were exhausted. We went to the shop, bought some energy drinks and sweets. We talked about camping and how much fun it was gonna be. Since that night time flew past and before I knew it, camp Daley was in a day.
I put my clothes on for tomorrow so I could get straight out of bed and go but I couldn't get to sleep that night from excitement, I twisted and turned all night and managed to slip in 5 hours of sleep.
The next morning, I launched myself out of bed, grabbed my bag, wolfed down a cereal bar and a peperami and shot out the door. I nearly banged Corey's door off of it's hinges. He answered, matching my energy and we rushed to school.
We arrived and a coach was parked outside the school, we wrote our names down on the register, put our bags in the bottom and got on the coach. I fell asleep on the way due to only 5, hours of sleep but when I awoke we were at the campsite.
When I exited the coach I was given my bag but I was told they searched the bags and found my knife and that I would get it back at the end of camp. It was kept in the teacher's cabin. I weren't that bothered as I didn't think I'd use it much anyway.
We got into our cabin and unpacked our things, it was dark outside but they were starting a campfire outside so we decided to go out and enjoy that. We sat down and talked all night until the fire went out. We returned to our cabins, carried on talking for a bit and then fell to sleep.
We awoke at 10 to the teachers banging on the doors and telling us to get out by 11. I showered, got changed, brushed my teeth and headed out at 10:50. So far it had been great and it could only get better from here, or so I thought.
We did fun activities all day such as fire making and den building and by the end I was really tired. We did a register at the end of the night but something was wrong. The headteacher announced that two students were missing, Henry Rogers and Blake Middleton. Blake was from our cabin and come to think about it I didn't even see him when I woke up.
That night we went to sleep on edge, but unable to do anything. Just as I was drifting to sleep I heard screams from another cabin. I turned to Corey to wake him up but he was sat up and pale. He heard it too. We both stood up warily and went to the window that looked onto the other cabin. We stared at it but nothing seemed out of place, but as we continued to watch we noticed something, there was a bloody handprint on the window.
Blake shut the curtain immediately and threw up on the floor. I was in total shock. What was happening in that other cabin. I didn't sleep all night and in the morning, I went to look at the cabin. It was boarded up. The door and windows were boarded up. They weren't last night.
I sat out for that day's activities, my mind was racing. Nobody even spoke about anything strange happening. Corey had asked to go home but couldn't, the signal had gone to zero so they couldn't contact anyone so we had to wait til they came on the last day. Corey stayed in the cabin.
I fell asleep while sitting out and a teacher woke me up to tell me to go back to my cabin. I didn't want to go sleep but I still went back. It had been hours and Corey and I were still awake though we didn't speak a word. I suddenly heard footsteps walking up to our cabin and my first instinct was to hide under my bed. Corey had gone under his covers and pretended to sleep.
The door quietly opened and a figure walked in, I looked at his boots and it was the same ones our headteacher wore. What was Mr Daley doing in our cabin. His arm dropped to his side and revealed a machete in his hand. My eyes widened and fear set in. He walked over to Corey's bed and slammed his machete through his covers, he screamed but sir put his hand over his mouth to muffle his screams. He took it out and slammed it on his neck till his head came off.
Tears flooded down my face and I clasped a hand round my mouth to stop myself from making noise. I then watched him walk round the room and treat everyone to the same fate. The screams that I heard echoed through my head and the imagine of Corey's lifeless body burned into my eyelids.
I slid out from the bed and threw up, I chugged a bottle of water before stumbling outside and puking again. I found my head and thought about my next move, I couldn't stay here otherwise I'd end up like them. Tears still streamed down my face as I thought. I decided to go get my knife, I quietly tiptoed over to the teacher cabin and peered through the window, nobody was in. I made my way inside and looked through the drawers. I found my knife but I also found a notebook. It was notes and plans. I read a few and almost fainted. it was plans on how to kill students and turn them to meat to cut costs on school dinners.
I shot out of the cabin and looked around. I saw the headteacher heading to the cabin and ducked into a bush. As soon as he was opening the door I was so angry I just ran up to him and stabbed him in the back. He turned around and swung the machete at me, it hit my arm and left a deep cut. I stumbled back and decided to sprint off.
My mind was all over the place and before I knew it I was too deep into the woods to find my way back. I left my knife in his back and have nothing to use. I looked to my left and noticed a cave, I decided to take shelter in there. I felt my pocket and noticed I had my torch. It flickered on and I looked around me.
Dead. Bodies. Everywhere. I sprinted out the cave and bumped into something, it grabbed me and lifted me up, it was Mr Daley. He choked me until I passed out and I woke up chained to a wall. I am currently writing this with my one free hand, my screen is covered in blood and I can't feel my legs. I don't know what's going to happen to me and I'm too scared to even speak. Please if you get this Tell someone. Get the truth out about Daley private school. It's satanic and evil.
Oh no he's back...
submitted by FlakyBread3745 to scarystories [link] [comments]
I have a small group of friends who also go to the same school, our school always has trips to a camp or something in the holidays. It's always called held in a campsite not far from school but this time it's being held in a different place a few hours away in Wales.
I've only ever been once but a trip to Wales sparked my interest. My friends were going aswell so I decided to go. We went to the front office and put our names down so we could be in a same cabin aswell. Camp daley was in a week and I have to admit I was pretty excited, I've been to Wales a few times and I enjoyed it everytime I went.
As soon as I got home I told my parents and they were fine with it, I went up to my room and started planning out what to take. Snacks, sleeping bags, torch, toothbrush, powerbank, spare clothes, pyjamas and everything else would be provided. I looked to the side and saw my Stanley knife, I took it just incase for firewood or something.
The next day we went and played football on a field near mine, we played for hours, grazed our knees but by the end we were exhausted. We went to the shop, bought some energy drinks and sweets. We talked about camping and how much fun it was gonna be. Since that night time flew past and before I knew it, camp Daley was in a day.
I put my clothes on for tomorrow so I could get straight out of bed and go but I couldn't get to sleep that night from excitement, I twisted and turned all night and managed to slip in 5 hours of sleep.
The next morning, I launched myself out of bed, grabbed my bag, wolfed down a cereal bar and a peperami and shot out the door. I nearly banged Corey's door off of it's hinges. He answered, matching my energy and we rushed to school.
We arrived and a coach was parked outside the school, we wrote our names down on the register, put our bags in the bottom and got on the coach. I fell asleep on the way due to only 5, hours of sleep but when I awoke we were at the campsite.
When I exited the coach I was given my bag but I was told they searched the bags and found my knife and that I would get it back at the end of camp. It was kept in the teacher's cabin. I weren't that bothered as I didn't think I'd use it much anyway.
We got into our cabin and unpacked our things, it was dark outside but they were starting a campfire outside so we decided to go out and enjoy that. We sat down and talked all night until the fire went out. We returned to our cabins, carried on talking for a bit and then fell to sleep.
We awoke at 10 to the teachers banging on the doors and telling us to get out by 11. I showered, got changed, brushed my teeth and headed out at 10:50. So far it had been great and it could only get better from here, or so I thought.
We did fun activities all day such as fire making and den building and by the end I was really tired. We did a register at the end of the night but something was wrong. The headteacher announced that two students were missing, Henry Rogers and Blake Middleton. Blake was from our cabin and come to think about it I didn't even see him when I woke up.
That night we went to sleep on edge, but unable to do anything. Just as I was drifting to sleep I heard screams from another cabin. I turned to Corey to wake him up but he was sat up and pale. He heard it too. We both stood up warily and went to the window that looked onto the other cabin. We stared at it but nothing seemed out of place, but as we continued to watch we noticed something, there was a bloody handprint on the window.
Blake shut the curtain immediately and threw up on the floor. I was in total shock. What was happening in that other cabin. I didn't sleep all night and in the morning, I went to look at the cabin. It was boarded up. The door and windows were boarded up. They weren't last night.
I sat out for that day's activities, my mind was racing. Nobody even spoke about anything strange happening. Corey had asked to go home but couldn't, the signal had gone to zero so they couldn't contact anyone so we had to wait til they came on the last day. Corey stayed in the cabin.
I fell asleep while sitting out and a teacher woke me up to tell me to go back to my cabin. I didn't want to go sleep but I still went back. It had been hours and Corey and I were still awake though we didn't speak a word. I suddenly heard footsteps walking up to our cabin and my first instinct was to hide under my bed. Corey had gone under his covers and pretended to sleep.
The door quietly opened and a figure walked in, I looked at his boots and it was the same ones our headteacher wore. What was Mr Daley doing in our cabin. His arm dropped to his side and revealed a machete in his hand. My eyes widened and fear set in. He walked over to Corey's bed and slammed his machete through his covers, he screamed but sir put his hand over his mouth to muffle his screams. He took it out and slammed it on his neck till his head came off.
Tears flooded down my face and I clasped a hand round my mouth to stop myself from making noise. I then watched him walk round the room and treat everyone to the same fate. The screams that I heard echoed through my head and the imagine of Corey's lifeless body burned into my eyelids.
I slid out from the bed and threw up, I chugged a bottle of water before stumbling outside and puking again. I found my head and thought about my next move, I couldn't stay here otherwise I'd end up like them. Tears still streamed down my face as I thought. I decided to go get my knife, I quietly tiptoed over to the teacher cabin and peered through the window, nobody was in. I made my way inside and looked through the drawers. I found my knife but I also found a notebook. It was notes and plans. I read a few and almost fainted. it was plans on how to kill students and turn them to meat to cut costs on school dinners.
I shot out of the cabin and looked around. I saw the headteacher heading to the cabin and ducked into a bush. As soon as he was opening the door I was so angry I just ran up to him and stabbed him in the back. He turned around and swung the machete at me, it hit my arm and left a deep cut. I stumbled back and decided to sprint off.
My mind was all over the place and before I knew it I was too deep into the woods to find my way back. I left my knife in his back and have nothing to use. I looked to my left and noticed a cave, I decided to take shelter in there. I felt my pocket and noticed I had my torch. It flickered on and I looked around me.
Dead. Bodies. Everywhere. I sprinted out the cave and bumped into something, it grabbed me and lifted me up, it was Mr Daley. He choked me until I passed out and I woke up chained to a wall. I am currently writing this with my one free hand, my screen is covered in blood and I can't feel my legs. I don't know what's going to happen to me and I'm too scared to even speak. Please if you get this Tell someone. Get the truth out about Daley private school. It's satanic and evil.
Oh no he's back...
2024.05.07 01:53 brownsfan003 Please Convince Me to Just Buy A Civic and Be Done
TL;DR: I want everything with no compromises. Reliable, cheap, fuel efficient, comfortable, small, American
Budget: 9k down, 18k total (absolute max 22k)
Target: <60k miles, no older than 2017
Basic Outline: Compact Sedan or Coupe, Automatic Transmission
Location: Eastern Midwest (Some snow, ice, lots of salt)
Age: early 20s
Previous vehicles: 2001 Ford Ranger V6, 2008 Ford Escape V6
Uses: Daily driving 18 miles round trip commute, monthly 300 mile round trip. I almost never have passengers, never more than 1. I rarely transport anything more than a few bags of groceries.
Selling Points in Order:
Honda Civic LX 2D Coupe: Somehow less space in the front than the sedan. Harder to find then the sedan and therefore 1-2K extra. I might as well get the sedan if I go with the Civic
Ford Mustang: Not in price range unless I go oldemore mileage. I don't think this is the car for me anyways.
Ford Focus: Cheaper than the Civic, probably because it won't last as long.
Miata: Briefly considered but I don't think I'd use the convertible all that much. Seems like an extra hassle for little payoff.
Conclusion: I should probably just get a foreign compact sedan (Civic, Corolla, etc) but I'm not convinced. Someone just tell me this is the right answer so I can finally replace the 16 year old ticking time bomb I'm driving right now.
submitted by brownsfan003 to whatcarshouldIbuy [link] [comments]
Budget: 9k down, 18k total (absolute max 22k)
Target: <60k miles, no older than 2017
Basic Outline: Compact Sedan or Coupe, Automatic Transmission
Location: Eastern Midwest (Some snow, ice, lots of salt)
Age: early 20s
Previous vehicles: 2001 Ford Ranger V6, 2008 Ford Escape V6
Uses: Daily driving 18 miles round trip commute, monthly 300 mile round trip. I almost never have passengers, never more than 1. I rarely transport anything more than a few bags of groceries.
Selling Points in Order:
- Reliability: I'm tired of fixing the rusty old Fords I've been driving the last few years. I want something that will last till 150k with only minor to moderate repairs.
- Fuel efficiency: I'm tired of burning money with the rusty old Fords I've been driving the last few years. I want something with 30+ mpg city, 40+ mpg highway
- Comfort: I really want a two-seater because this is my last car before I have kids. I at least want a 2D. I don't care about performance, I just want it to maximize front seat space without having to get a full-size car.
- American made: Specifically Ford because that's what my family has always had, but I realize I need to let this go. I know the foreign cars are more reliable and manufactured in the US anyways. I also know that American cars don't satisfy the previous 3. I've always heard foreign parts are harder to get, is this still true?
Honda Civic LX 2D Coupe: Somehow less space in the front than the sedan. Harder to find then the sedan and therefore 1-2K extra. I might as well get the sedan if I go with the Civic
Ford Mustang: Not in price range unless I go oldemore mileage. I don't think this is the car for me anyways.
Ford Focus: Cheaper than the Civic, probably because it won't last as long.
Miata: Briefly considered but I don't think I'd use the convertible all that much. Seems like an extra hassle for little payoff.
Conclusion: I should probably just get a foreign compact sedan (Civic, Corolla, etc) but I'm not convinced. Someone just tell me this is the right answer so I can finally replace the 16 year old ticking time bomb I'm driving right now.